famous battle-field. It has been already said that the ridge of Carmel
forms one of the southern boundaries of the plain. Its north-western
extremity runs out into the Mediterranean, and is crowned by the convent
of Mar Elyas from which the Carmelite monks take their name. At its
south-eastern end, a short distance below the summit, is a level plateau
which looks down upon Jezreel and commands an extensive view over the
whole plain. Its modern Arabic name is EL MUHRAKAH (_the place of
burning_, or _of sacrifice_). A perennial spring, which is said never to
fail even in the severest droughts, furnishes a copious supply of water.
Near the foot of the hill is a mound called the Tel Kasis (_the hill of
the priests_). The river Kishon which flows along the plain immediately
below the plateau is called the Nahr el Mukatta (_the river of
slaughter_).[231] All these names naturally connect themselves with the
sacrifice of Elijah, who on this plateau brought together the priests of
Baal, and when they had failed to win an answer from their idol gods,
built an altar, and drawing water from the fountain which after three
years’ drought still furnished an adequate supply, poured it over the
sacrifice. The Lord God of Israel answered by fire. The appeal was
irresistible. The whole people exclaimed with one voice—“The Lord, He is
God; the Lord, He is God.” Within sight of the idolatrous city, and
beneath the eyes of the king, the apostate priests were seized, dragged
down to the mound and river, and slain.
The prophet now ascends to the top of the hill just above, from which a
magnificent view of the Mediterranean is obtained. Burying his face in
his mantle, in importunate prayer, he sends his servant to look out
toward the sea. At last a cloud is descried no larger than a man’s hand.
For three years the sky had been cloudless. Now the harbinger of rain is
gratefully welcomed. The prophet returns with the glad tidings to the
monarch—“Prepare thy chariot, and get thee down, that the rain stop thee
not.” These words have caused some perplexity to commentators. Their
meaning becomes perfectly clear as read on the spot. The river Kishon,
easily fordable at this point, and, doubtless, perfectly dry after the
protracted drought, would soon become a rushing, furious torrent, as in
the days of Sisera. Besides which the Plain of Esdraelon consists of a
rich alluvial soil which after a heavy rain-fall becomes absolutely
impassable for carriages, and is difficult even for horsemen or
pedestrians. If Ahab is to return to Jezreel he must do so at once. “And
it came to pass, in the meanwhile, that the heaven was black with clouds
and wind, and there was a great rain. And Ahab rode and went to Jezreel.
And the hand of the Lord was on Elijah, and he girded up his loins, and
ran before Ahab to the entrance of Jezreel.”[232]
This famous battle-field, the scene of Israel’s most glorious victories
and most disastrous defeats, finds a place in the prophecies of the New,
as well as in the histories of the Old Testament. The name by which it
is commonly known, Esdraelon, is but a Grecised form of the Hebrew
Jezreel. It was likewise called the valley of Megiddo from the town near
which some of its most desperate conflicts raged. Hence in the book of
Revelation it is spoken of as “the place called in the Hebrew tongue
Armageddon” (_the hill_, or _fortress of Megiddo_). This is not the
place in which to discuss the precise meaning of the prophecy, nor to
enquire whether the inspired writer indicated a particular locality as
the scene of the final conflict, or used this historical plain as
typical of the battles yet to be fought between the powers of light and
darkness. One thing is clear, that the struggles of which the valley has
been the theatre only foreshadowed that more desperate conflict which
awaits us when “the spirits of devils, working miracles, go forth unto
the kings of the earth and of the whole world, to gather them to the
battle of that day of God Almighty.”[233] Whatever the time, the place,
the nature of that final conflict may be, its terribleness cannot be
doubted as we read the descriptions given of it in the visions of
Patmos. But the issue is certain. The wars of ancient Israel were waged
with doubtful fortune—victory and defeat alternated. But in that “great
day of God,” though the battle seem to hang long in suspense, the
victory is sure. The ”Captain of our Salvation” “goeth forth conquering,
and to conquer.” “He must reign till He hath put all enemies under His
feet.” Nor is the conflict altogether future. Even now it rages around
us, and we are summoned to take part in it. Neutrality and indifference
are impossible. “He that is not with us is against us.” May the solemn
words of reproof and warning spoken of those who stood aloof in the
Valley of Esdraelon sink into our hearts. “Curse ye Meroz! said the
angel of the Lord, Curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof! Because
they came not to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord, against
the mighty.” “How long halt ye between two opinions? If the Lord be God,
follow him; but if Baal, then follow him.”[234]
[Illustration: PROMONTORY OF CARMEL, FROM THE SEA.]
NORTHERN PALESTINE, OR GALILEE.
[Illustration:
NORTHERN PALESTINE, OR GALILEE.
_Enlarged from Keith Johnston’s Map._
]
[Illustration: Head-Piece—Village of Nazareth]
SOUTHERN GALILEE AND NAZARETH.
IT is difficult to fix with precision the boundaries of Galilee and
Samaria. Originally the Samaritan kingdom included the whole territory
of the ten northern tribes from Dan to Bethel; but very soon it shrank
within much narrower limits. Galilee, at first a small “circle,” as the
name means, around Kadesh Naphtali, on the frontiers of Tyre,[235] had
in the time of our Lord become a province of great extent stretching
southward to the ridge of Carmel and the mountains of Gilboa. The Plain
of Esdraelon, which under the kings of Israel had been in the centre of
Samaria, was under the Romans its northern boundary, and belonged to
Galilee. Jezreel and the other historic sites in the neighbourhood being
so closely connected with the southern kingdoms have been spoken of in
the preceding chapter. We now proceed to the region lying to the north
of the plain.
[Illustration: FOUNTAIN OF MARY AT NAZARETH.]
Galilee thus defined consists of a series of fertile hills and valleys,
stretching down from Hermon in the north to Tabor and Little Hermon on
the south. Its uplands are better wooded, its valleys and plains are
richer, its natural beauty greater than the rest of Palestine. Van de
Velde truly describes it as “a land rich in beauty and fertility. A
thick wood of oaks and other trees continued for a considerable way over
the heights, again through the valleys, but everywhere characterised by
a luxuriance of verdure, by which you can recognise at once the
fertility of Naphtali’s inheritance.” It was a region in which Asher
should “dip his foot in oil;” Zebulun and Issachar “rejoice in their
going out, and in their tents” and “suck of the abundance of the seas,
and of treasures hid in the sand;” and Naphtali be “satisfied with
favour, and full with the blessing of the Lord.”[236]
Among the hills of Southern Galilee TABOR is conspicuous, not so much
from its greater elevation—it only rises one thousand four hundred feet
from the plain—as from its peculiar form. It is a truncated cone,
detached from the surrounding heights, and forms a very striking object
from whichever side it is approached. Its general contour reminded me of
the Wrekin in Shropshire. Formerly it was richly wooded to the very
summit; but the timber has been cut down, and now only a few clumps or
detached trees spring from the verdant turf which clothes its sides. The
view from the summit is magnificent, commanding a panorama from the
mountains of Gilead to the Mediterranean, from Hermon, with its snowy
summits, to Ebal and Gerizim on the south. Well might the Psalmist
exclaim,
“The north and the south Thou hast created them:
Tabor and Hermon shall rejoice in Thy name.”
Its traditional claim to have been the scene of the transfiguration is
now universally abandoned. This must be sought for farther north, among
the gorges of the Hermon, near Banias, the ancient Cæsarea Philippi.
In crossing the hills of Galilee from Esdraelon to Nazareth, we pass
three villages, each with a place in the inspired record. The first is
Sôlem, the ancient SHUNEM. It lies at the foot of Little Hermon, about
three miles from the fountain of Jezreel. Luxuriant orange groves and
corn-fields, fenced with hedges of prickly pear, encompass a cluster of
mud-walled, flat-topped hovels. The inhabitants seemed a merry,
good-humoured, contented race, fearing nothing but a Bedouin raid, or a
visit from the Turkish tax-gatherer. Blocks of marble, with traces of
sculpture upon them, probably brought from the ruins of Jezreel, are
worked into the mud-walls of the village, and the largest house has a
couple of willow-pattern plates, like those we noticed at Bethel, with a
dish to match, over the doorway. But there is nothing to remind us that
this is the scene of one of the most touching incidents which the Bible
records. It was here that a “great woman” of the village, “the good,
kind Shunammite,” made “a little chamber on the wall, and set there a
bed, and a stool, and a candlestick,” that the prophet might freely pass
in and out. Content to dwell “among her own people” she refused to “be
spoken for to the king, or to the captain of the host.” And when a son
was granted to her old age her cup of happiness was full. Whilst
scarcely a trace of the ancient village exists, the surrounding scenery
remains unchanged. It was in these luxuriant corn-fields that the child,
smitten by sunstroke, “said to his father, My head, my head. And he said
to a lad, Carry him to his mother. And when he had taken him, and
brought him to his mother, he sat on her knees till noon, and then
died.” We follow the bereaved mother, choking down her sobs, and saying
“It is well,” as she rides hurriedly across the plain to the prophet’s
haunt on Carmel, and sympathize with her joy as she receives back her
son.[237]
[Illustration: TABOR.]
A little farther to the north stands another village, to which a more
tragic interest attaches—ENDOR, the goal of Saul’s journey the night
before his death. The Israelites, as we have seen, were encamped near
the fountain of Jezreel on Mount Gilboa, the Philistines at Shunem,
about midway between Endor and the camp of Saul. The king at the peril
of his life gropes his way past the outposts of the enemy to reach the
woman who is to reveal to him the secrets of the future. The village
retains its ancient name unchanged. And one of the numerous caves still,
as formerly, used as dwellings may have afforded a fitting abode for the
miserable and wicked woman whose heart relented towards the doomed and
despairing king.[238]
[Illustration: NAIN.]
A ride of about fifty minutes brings us from Endor to NAIN. It is a
small, poor village, standing on the shoulder of a hill, looking down on
one arm of the Valley of Esdraelon. Not very far from Nazareth, and
visible across the valley from the hill above the town, it is by no
means improbable that our Lord may have known the young man and his
widowed mother. If, as many suppose, He was Himself “the only son of his
mother, and she was a widow,” a special reason for the miracle is at
once discovered in His deep human sympathy with a case so like His own.
A steep path leads up the hill side to a group of rock-hewn graves,
marking the site of the ancient burial-place of the town. It was on this
very path that our Lord saw the weeping mother and “had compassion, and
said unto her, Weep not.” Turning to the bier, His word of pity became a
word of power, and “He said, Young man, I say unto thee, Arise. And he
that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And he delivered him unto his
mother.”[239]
But a spot of yet deeper and more absorbing interest than any we have
visited since we left Jerusalem draws us onward, and we hasten over the
intervening space till we reach NAZARETH. Up among the hills to the
north of the plain is a valley about a mile in length, and perhaps a
quarter of a mile in breadth. Several smaller valleys run out from it,
and at the junction of two or three of these it expands into a basin
over which the hills rise to a height of four hundred or five hundred
feet. “It seems,” says Dr. Richardson, rather fancifully, “as if fifteen
mountains met to form an enclosure for this delightful spot: they rise
round it like the edge of a shell to guard it from intrusion. It is a
rich and beautiful field in the midst of barren mountains.” The bottom
of the basin is bright with gardens and orchards, divided by hedges of
prickly pear twelve or fourteen feet high. The town stands on the
western side of the valley and rises a little way up the slope of the
hill. It has a brighter, cleaner, and more prosperous look than any town
we have seen since leaving Nablus. The population was estimated by
Robinson at four thousand. It has increased since then, and is now
probably about five thousand. Of these a large proportion are Christian
in profession, though it is to be feared that their conduct is little in
keeping with the pure and high morality of the gospel. Two large
monasteries, one of the Greek, the other of the Latin rite, contain a
large number of monks. A recently established Protestant mission seems
to be efficient and successful.
The inhabitants of Nazareth, like those of Bethlehem, are deservedly
famed for their personal beauty. I was fortunate enough to be present at
the wedding festivities of a wealthy landed proprietor in the town. The
bride, unfortunately, was absolutely ugly; but I was greatly struck by
the fine features of many of the women and the noble bearing of the men.
Dr. Porter says truly, “If we go out and sit for an hour of an evening
by the little fountain, we shall see many a face which Raphael might
have chosen as a study when about to paint his _Madonna della Seggiola_,
and many a figure that Phidias might have selected as a model for
Venus.”
Monkish legends and traditions of course are rife throughout the town
and neighbourhood. Always offensive, they are doubly so here, both from
their absurdity and from the contrast they afford to the silence of
Scripture respecting the youth and early manhood of our Lord. We are
shown the workshop of Joseph, the house of Mary, and the place from
which it was carried away to find its final resting-place at Loretto! A
cave is pointed out as the place of the Annunciation. A large slab of
stone is declared to be the table at which our Lord and His disciples
ate before and after the Resurrection. The traditional Mount of
Precipitation is two miles away from the town in defiance of the express
statement of Scripture that it was on “the brow of the hill on which the
city was built.”[240]
[Illustration: NAZARETH.]
The fountain of Mary at the eastern end of the town is a place of deep
interest. At all hours of the day groups of girls may be seen who have
come hither to draw water. It is the common centre around which the
whole life of the village gathers. The pilgrim stops to quench his
thirst, the shepherd to water his flocks, the girls, with merry song and
laughter, fill their pitchers, linger for a gossip with their friends,
then poising the vessel upon their shoulders, walk away with light and
graceful step. The fountain has been here from time immemorial, and
seems always to have been the main, if not the only source of
water-supply for the inhabitants. It was to the fountain, which now
bears her name, that Mary came, day by day, amongst the village maidens,
to fill her pitcher and return to her home. The _Protevangelion_, one of
the earliest of the Apocryphal gospels, says that it was here that she
received the angelic salutation which marked her out as the mother of
the Lord. The narrative however seems to indicate what the probabilities
of the case imply, that the event happened in the seclusion of her own
dwelling.
[Illustration: CLIFF BEHIND THE MARONITE CONVENT AT NAZARETH.]
A hasty and general survey of the site of Nazareth produces the
impression that it contains no cliff down which Jesus could have been
“cast headlong.” The town lying along the lower slope of the hill, no
steep declivity is visible. But a more careful examination corrects the
error and confirms the narrative of the evangelist. I found two or three
precipitous walls of rock of thirty or forty feet in depth. One of them
had a considerable accumulation of debris at the bottom which if cleared
away would probably give twenty feet more. Dean Stanley’s remarks are
well worth quoting. “‘They rose’ it is said of the infuriated
inhabitants of the city, ‘and cast Him out of the city, and brought Him
to a brow of the mountain on which the city was built, so as to cast Him
down the cliff.’[241] Most readers probably imagine a town built on the
summit of a mountain, from which summit the intended precipitation was
to take place. This, as I have said, is not the situation of Nazareth,
yet its position is in strict accordance with the narrative. It is built
upon, that is on the side of ‘a mountain,’ but the brow is not beneath
but over the town, and such a cliff as is here implied is to be found in
the abrupt face of the limestone rock, about thirty or forty feet high,
overhanging the Maronite convent at the south-west extremity of the
town.”
To gain a true idea of the scenes amidst which the first thirty years of
our Lord’s earthly life were passed we must climb the hills which rise
above the town. There is very little in the Nazareth of to-day to recall
that of eighteen hundred years ago. Not a single building is now
standing which was standing then. It is even doubtful whether the site
remains unaltered: and we know that important changes have passed over
the scenery of the neighbourhood. The soil has lain fallow and
unproductive for centuries. A silent, unpeopled solitude stretches for
miles around us. But in our Lord’s days Galilee was like a garden in its
luxuriant fertility. The hills, now so bare and barren, were terraced
and cultivated to their very summits. A numerous and thriving population
occupied the soil. “The little hills rejoiced on every side; the
pastures were clothed with flocks; the valleys also were covered over
with corn.”[242] But amidst all these changes the great natural
landmarks remain the same. As we stand on the ridge which rises just
above the town, we know that we tread on the very spots where Jesus of
Nazareth often walked, and that we look on the landscape which was
beneath His eye. The hills, the valleys, the sea, the plains make up a
scene of surpassing beauty, the main features of which are unaltered by
the lapse of centuries. Below us lies the little town in the peaceful
seclusion of its quiet valley—far from the busy crowd, aside from the
thronged highways. On the west the sun is sinking down into the sea,
leaving a broad line of light across the Mediterranean. Hermon, on the
north, with its crown of snow, glows in the fading light. “The
excellency of Carmel and Sharon” stretch away to the south. Eastward the
eye ranges over the hills of Galilee, the valley of the Jordan, and the
rich plains of Gilead beyond. The view though somewhat less extensive
than that from Tabor is even more beautiful. The hours of a Sabbath
afternoon and evening spent in meditation and prayer on the thymy turf
of this glorious upland have left behind them memories which no lapse of
time can efface or weaken.
[Illustration: CHURCH OF THE ANNUNCIATION, NAZARETH.]
The numerous flocks of sheep and goats which were being led in to be
folded for the night formed a striking object in the landscape, and
recalled to mind a question which has perplexed many eastern travellers.
Our Lord, speaking of His coming to judgment, says, “And before Him
shall be gathered all nations; and He shall separate them from one
another as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats.”[243] But the
sheep and the goats are invariably brought in together. I had failed to
find any instance in which they were divided. This, of all others, was
the place to seek an explanation. It was given me by a shepherd who was
leading his flock past the spot where I stood. The division is made not
in the evening when the flocks are folded, but in the morning as they
are taken out to pasture. The goats travelling much more quickly than
the sheep and thriving upon a much scantier vegetation, are driven up to
the mountain tops where they pick their food from amongst the rocks and
stones. The sheep are kept upon the lower slopes, where the grass is
more abundant and the pasturage richer. It is thus not to the night of
death when “like sheep they are laid in the grave,”[244] but the
resurrection morning to which the illustration points and when the final
separation shall be made. In this case, as in so many others the seeming
discrepancy arises from our imperfect acquaintance with the facts. A
more complete knowledge not only removes the apparent difficulty, but
brings out a deeper meaning in the sayings of Him whose “words are
spirit and are life.”
We cannot leave Nazareth without reflecting on the silence of Scripture
respecting our Lord’s residence here. Of the thirty-three years of His
earthly life twenty-eight were spent in this secluded valley; yet the
history of those years is an almost total blank. A journey to Jerusalem
is the only incident recorded. “The child grew, and waxed strong in
spirit, filled with wisdom: and the grace of God was upon Him.... He was
subject unto His parents.... He increased in wisdom and stature, and in
favour with God and man.”[245] This is all we know—no more. Imagination,
working upon Apocryphal legends and obscure hints, has endeavoured to
fill in the vague outline with biographical details. But the attempt is
unwarranted, even if it be not irreverent. It is impossible for us to
lift the veil which hides these years of mysterious growth and silent
preparation. When “the day of His showing unto Israel” had come, He
emerged from His obscurity; and we shall trace His footsteps on the
shores of the neighbouring lake, the world’s great Teacher, revealing
God to man, and man to himself.
It was at CANA OF GALILEE, the home of Nathanael,[246] that our Lord
worked His first miracle, “and manifested forth His glory.”[247] There
are two villages near Nazareth, still bearing a similar name, each of
which has been regarded as the scene of the manifestation. Kefr Kenna, a
small village about an hour and a half to the north-west, and
Kana-el-Jelil at double the distance. The former is the traditional
site. The claims of the latter are supported by the deservedly high
authority of Robinson, and its name is absolutely identical with that of
the Biblical narrative. It is perhaps impossible to decide in which of
the two it was that
“The modest water, awed by power divine,
Confessed the God, and blushed itself to wine.”
With the exception of a fountain, apparently of the Roman period, said
to have been the place from which the water was drawn, there is nothing
in either of them to connect itself with the miracle. In the wedding
festivities at Nazareth, of which I have already spoken, the bride was
brought from near Kefr Kenna. The innumerable guests who thronged the
house for a week, served to illustrate and to account for the inadequacy
of the supplies provided for a similar festivity in the time of our
Lord.
[Illustration: FOUNTAIN AT CANA.]
[Illustration: Head-Piece]
THE LAKE OF GENNESARETH.
ONE of the most interesting passages in the writings of Josephus is that
in which he narrates the history of his campaign against the Romans on
and around the Lake of Gennesareth. Having spoken of the clear, cold
waters of the lake, the innumerable ships and boats which floated upon
it, and the prosperous towns and villages which lined its banks, he
proceeds to describe the fertile plain from which it takes its name.
“The country also that lies over against this lake hath the same name of
Gennesareth; its nature is wonderful as well as its beauty; its soil is
so fruitful that all sorts of trees can grow upon it, and the
inhabitants accordingly plant all sorts of trees there; for the temper
of the air is so well mixed, that it agrees very well with those several
sorts, particularly walnuts, which require the coldest air, flourish
there in vast plenty; there are palm-trees also, which grow best in hot
air; fig-trees also and olives grow near them, which yet require an air
that is more temperate. One may call this place the ambition of nature,
where it forces those plants that are naturally enemies to one another
to agree together; it is a happy contention of the seasons, as if every
one of them laid claim to this country; for it not only nourishes
different sorts of autumnal fruit beyond men’s expectation, but
preserves them a great while; it supplies men with the principal fruits,
with grapes and figs continually during ten months of the year, and the
rest of the fruits as they become ripe together, through the whole year;
for besides the good temperature of the air, it is also watered from a
most fertile fountain. The people of the country call it
Capharnaum.”[248]
[Illustration: TOWN AND LAKE OF TIBERIAS.]