Chapter 4

The lobby was filled with people, all waiting to board the various tour buses parked in front of the hotel. After turning in his key, Peter pocketed his receipt, picked up his bag, and exited the hotel. David was leaning against his car, his cell phone in hand, just ending what appeared to be an animated conversation.

“Good morning Peter. Are you ready for the next phase of your tour of the Holy Land? I have a friend, another tour guide; the day after tomorrow we’re going to join him and his group in the “Old City” on their procession along the Via Dolorosa to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.”

“That sounds wonderful, David. I can’t wait.”

“In the meantime, let’s get going; we have a long trip ahead of us.”

The sun was already heating up the morning. Even though it was the middle of November, the temperature was expected to be in the upper eighties.

“David, is it always this warm this late in the year?”

“No, this weather is a little unusual. We should be already in the beginning of our rainy season, with temperatures around seventy degrees. We really could use some rain. Let’s hope it starts right after you leave for home,” he chuckled.

After maneuvering through the morning city traffic, they headed south along the Jordan Valley Road. Their first stop was at the Jordan River. Peter was amazed at the number of tour buses in the parking lot. Large groups of pilgrims from all over the world, speaking in languages that he couldn’t identify, were entering a facility that resembled a small amphitheater, with rows of concrete seating separated into sections by aluminum railings. Many of the groups were wading into the Jordan to renew their baptismal vows. Peter chose to kneel down and, sticking his hand into the water, blessed himself. He turned, walked back up the stairs and scanned the spectacle below. ‘It’s good to see that Christianity is alive and well and thriving in these troubled times.’

Peter met David at the entrance of the building. “So Peter, what do you think of the Jordan River?”

Getting the hint from David’s voice he laughed, “I guess Pete Seeger never visited the Jordan River,” he said referring to the lyrics of his version of the old African American spiritual song, made popular by the Highwaymen in the early sixties.

‘The river is deep and the river is wide, hallelujah,

Meet my mother on the other side, hallelujah.’

The river was neither; being less than twenty yards wide and approximately four to five feet deep as best as Peter could tell.

They got back into the car and continued their journey south into the Judean Desert. Outside the landscape gradually changed from the lush green trees and plants of the Jordan Valley to the treeless, sparse, brown vegetation of the desert. For miles they traveled. On one side of the road, stood bare desolate mountains; on the other was a flat, treeless plain mostly covered with dried out grasses, the only sporadic greenery where the Jordan River was accessible; and in the distance, was the country of Jordan.

After about two hours of driving, they passed the city of Jericho and soon after were turning left off the highway. Before them, in the deepest part of the valley, lay the Dead Sea.

“This is the Dead Sea,” David exclaimed as they left the car and walked along a concrete path through the small seaside resort. “The Dead Sea is the lowest surface on the face of the earth at over 1400 feet below sea level. The reason why it’s called the Dead Sea is because nothing can live in its water. The salinity is about 34%, which makes it one of the saltiest bodies of water in the world. People have been coming here for thousands of years. The water and the mud from the sea bed are considered therapeutic.”

They walked to the water’s edge. Peter bent down and dipped his hand into the water.

“It feels slick, like an oil of some sort”

“That’s the salinity; that’s why it’s so easy to float. Let’s get out of the sun; we can grab a beer and watch all the tourists from the patio.”

They sat, relaxing under the shade of a large umbrella, watching people -- some floating, some covered head to toe in mud, all seemingly enjoying themselves -- for about an hour, then returned to the car; their next stop was just a short drive to the other side of the valley.

“These are the excavated ruins of Qumran. Some scholars believe that this was the home of the sect that John the Baptist joined before he became a public figure,” David said as they pulled into the parking lot in front of a small building.

They left the car and walked along a well-marked path, past several excavated rooms, cisterns, and public baths until they came to a large plaque showing how scholars believed the site looked two thousand years before.

“David, it’s amazing that anyone could live in this area; it’s so barren, so devoid of life.”

“That’s true; but remember life was so much simpler then; all they cared about was survival, not like today. Up there is the reason why this site is famous,” David said pointing up at the barren mountain range in front of them. “In one of those caves is where two young boys discovered the Dead Sea Scrolls. It’s believed that they were stored there by the religious inhabitants of this area for safe keeping.”