It was bound to come. As sure as the sun rises and sets, so leaving the land of Israel had to come. As I type this, I sit in an airport, waiting on my flight. It is good to almost be home. The opportunity to travel abroad always makes me more thankful for my home, and kindred.
Yet, every day I spent in the Holy Land was a day that leaves so many memories and lasting impressions. Even our last day to be in the land, was as memorable as any day before. We had previously met a new friend who offered himself, and his car, to guide us to a few remaining sites that had to been seen.
Early Wednesday morning we went to the Dead Sea valley, to the ancient fortress of Masada. Masada is to the Israeli, what Gettysburg was to the Union. Not so much a military victory, but a place of reverent vow. As Lincoln swore at Gettysburg, "these dead shall not have died in vain," so the Israeli soldier vows, "Masada shall not fall again."
If one wonders what Israel will do about their threatening enemies, just reflect upon their history. From the first Diaspora, at the hands Assyrians in 722 BC, to the Nazi holocaust of the twenty century, the Israeli has resolved to never be a victimized again. They will be free, even if the cost of freedom requires they choose the place of their death. Some of us Americans believe the principals of one of our heroes, Patrick Henry, "give me liberty, or give me death."
From Masada we hiked back into David's stronghold called En-gedi. Only a benevolent God could give to David such an unbelievable sanctuary in the deadly land of the Judean wilderness. I would never believe the harsh dessert could harbor such a haven of life and safety. As God sustained David in that inhospitable place, so the same God will sustain Israel for His purpose.
From En--gedi went into the Jordan River valley and into the muddy, slow waters where John the Baptist baptized Jesus the Christ. Standing in the water, we were no more than twenty feet from the country of Jordan to the west. Going east of the Jordan, we visited the Palestinian city of Jericho where we had our noon meal.
The highlight of the day for me was not the land, nor the water, but the people. For instance, there at the Jordan River, in that 100 plus degree heat, sat two young Israeli men guarding their border. I felt bad for them, dressed in full battle fatigues with their weapons and helmets, waiting day after day for that next move. When we came to the river and inquired if it was permitted that we enter the water, they said we were welcome to enter the area constructed for such purpose.
After some pictures and quiet introspection, we returned to the car. Stopping at the guards we made some small talk. In the conversation, one of them inquired why Christians 'dunk" their faithful under the water. It opened the door to 15 minutes of personal conversation with the men. They asked of the Christian faith, and why we cared about them. The men were sincerely inquisitive and even if they disagreed with our beliefs they seemed impressed that we were so passionate about a book written by their prophets that concerns their God.
We encouraged these men to consider that their Messiah had already come. They understood who we were speaking of and thanked us for the gospel tracts we left them to read. While were walking away one of our group said, "Wouldn't it be awesome if we see these men again, but as believers in the Jesus the Messiah." Indeed it would.
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