Fourth Letter from Nazareth
12 June 2016
Dear Family and Friends,
Today is Shavuot (also Pentecost) for Jews. This year the holiday falls within the Muslim
month of Ramadan. Western Christians observed
their own Pentecost on May 15, which marks the gift of the Holy Spirit. So now we are in the second period of
“Ordinary Time.” Shavuot has a dual
significance: it is a harvest festival and a time to celebrate God’s gift of
the Torah. Ramadan is a month of daytime
fasting, also to celebrate God’s first revelation to Muhammad and to engage in
almsgiving. The color for Ordinary Time
is green, and even in mid June the lingering green here reminds us of God’s gifts
of rain, sun, crops and herds. That is,
of life. The authors of both Genesis 1
and John know that God’s speech is life giving.
I write this from the top of a Galilean hill. Monday the heat will come but for now
temperatures are in the mid 70s Fahrenheit. A breeze cools my back, so I must be facing
east. Traffic on Highway 77 whispers
over my left shoulder. Every now and
then a tractor’s growl drifts up from the fields below. Cicadas buzz all around. One student sits behind me writing, and I
hear her shift about as she sips water and consults her notes.
She is one of nine students taking their final field exam on
this hilltop. They are to wander through
a ruin, make observations, and then compose an essay describing how they would
excavate the area, defending their decisions archaeologically. I instruct them to have fun but can’t grade
that aspect of their work. They have,
however, impressed me with their archaeological acumen, and I like to think
that’s a high bar to clear. All have
been trained in our digging method and all have taken a turn at being in charge
of keeping records. Some have explained
the week’s work in their squares to the rest of us during what we call “Friday tour.” They know their stuff.
Their competence, by the way, reflects something discovered
long before I started directing a dig: one doesn’t have to be an academic to be
a good archaeologist. A person who will learn
and follow the method, and who can train and supervise volunteers, can excavate
as well as anyone and record the data better than many. Some dig directors of the 60s and 70s learned
this when they were trained in meticulous excavation methods, not by people
with Ph.D.s, but by paid Arab workers from local villages. I learned it in 1992 when I dug at Sepphoris
under the tutelage of Gary “Termite” Lindstrom, an exterminator from Oakland
California with a high school diploma.
Other Area Supervisors at Sepphoris included a real estate agent, school
teachers, and stay at home moms. It was
these who over the years trained most Sepphoris volunteers. At Shikhin I too will take on whoever can do
it. We archaeologists are a practical
bunch.
Tomorrow begins the final week of the 2016 season and the
crew must think about when to stop digging in order to clean for photographs
and complete their final drawing tasks.
It’s something of a mixed time: people are tired, ready to go home, and
sad to be leaving. Some tell me that the
excitement of the trip to Jerusalem boosts their spirits and energy.
Earlier in the week I contacted Kyle Bailey in Samford’s
Global Engagement Office to tell him that none of our group had been in Tel
Aviv when a shooting happened. Some
parents had called concerned, which I certainly understand. I admit that this sort of worry was foreign
to me until my own child went on a mission trip to Belize. Then I knew.
Today I read about a shooting in an Orlando nightclub.
It is probably an artifact of my own disposition that in
these letters I emphasize the peace that is happening all around. I do it, not to negate the fear, violence,
and hatred—or simmering resentment—that is as healthy here as it is in my own country,
but to make a modest request: for those who have faith in God, do not allow these
things to overwhelm our knowledge that God has given us all we need to fix
these problems, and that God is quietly at work to help us. For those of no religious leanings, or who
even lean away from faith, know that we choose between hope and despair, and that
while hope wanes we can work.
Please continue to pray for peace, and while praying, to work
for it.
James
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