Visions of the Holy Land

By William Lee Goff

A naive young Presbyterian minister goes on his first trip to the Holy Land to learn about its past. To his great surprise, he also discovers its amazing future.
The narrator of the story, Bill DeQuill, uses his study leave to explore Jerusalem and travel to Bethlehem, Hebron, Galilee, the Dead Sea and Jordan. He meets both Palestinians and Zionists and who tell him their compelling, but very different narratives.
This is a story of discovery and reflection, of ancient history and current events, of violence and peace, of despair and hope. It reveals an exciting new way to see the Holy Land.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Oct 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781489738356

William Lee Goff

William Lee Goff is a retired Presbyterian minister who has pursued his fascination with the lands of the Bible for decades. He has made seven trips to Israel. For ten months he lived and studied in Jerusalem, traveled from Dan to Beersheba, visited Gaza and camped out in the Sinai. He has also enjoyed shorter trips to Egypt, Lebanon, and Jordan. For many years he has studied both Hebrew and Arabic. While not claiming fluency in either language, he says that both Semitic languages have given him a new way of looking at the world. He enjoys playing the cello and performing in local theatre productions. He grew up and received all his formal education in Southern California where he and his wife live.

Book preview

DAY 1

T here it is, the land people have fought over for thousands of years.

I couldn’t tell if the man sitting next to me was speaking to himself or to me as he looked out the port-side window of our plane while we approached the coastline of Israel.

From my middle seat, I strained to get a glimpse of land myself. At first I could see only a brown haze on the horizon. Then, as the plane descended and banked briefly to the left, I got my first look at Tel Aviv with its many white, high-rise buildings next to the shore of the Mediterranean Sea. I was impressed with how big and modern the city looked.

Over fourteen hours earlier, I had begun the first leg of my journey at the Ronald Reagan International Airport in Washington, D.C. There, I had to go through the routine ordeal of airport security. It’s something I always dread. I know that the TSA people are just doing their job, but they seem to treat me as if I were a potential criminal or terrorist.

Keep moving. Take off your jacket. Put your laptop in a separate container. Take off your shoes. Everything out of your pockets. Remove your belt. Come on through.

I hate this part of travel. And it’s all because some suicidal Arab terrorists shattered the peace on 9/11.

My seat companions on the short flight to New York were two men in suits who each started using their laptop computers even before we took off. Rather than talking with them, I enjoyed my view of the Capitol as our plane climbed into the sky. I was excited to see the familiar National Mall, the Washington Monument, and the Capitol Building from the air. I didn’t know it at the time, but this was the beginning of an adventure that would change my life!

In just over an hour we landed at the John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York City. I only had about half an hour to look at the shops in the terminal before boarding the big Boeing 777 for the long flight to Tel Aviv. I was relieved that I didn’t have to run the gauntlet of security again. Now I felt relaxed as I boarded the plane, found my seat toward the rear of the cabin, and stowed my carry-on in an overhead compartment. I eased into my seat between a middle-aged man and a young woman who was reading a magazine. As I slipped my writing journal into the seat pocket in front of me, the man next to the window introduced himself. He looked to be about 40 years old. He was wearing a fresh-looking white dress shirt with a button-down collar. He had a well-trimmed goatee, short cropped dark-gray hair, and a blue and white yarmulke on the top of his head. He wore rimless wire glasses and had brown eyes.

Hello, my name is Joe Cohen, he said extending his hand.

My name’s Bill, Bill DeQuill. Glad to meet you.

His handshake was firm.

In the course of our ten-hour flight, I learned that Joe was an assistant professor of history at a university in New York. He explained that he was just beginning his first sabbatical by returning to Israel for the first time since he was a teenage volunteer on an archeological dig in Jerusalem.

Joe’s openness and affability gave me confidence that I could share something of my travel plans with him.

I’m on a study leave from my church, the Second Presbyterian Church of Alexandria, Virginia. This will be my first visit to Israel, the land I know mostly from the Bible.

So you’re a minister?

I am. A pastor, an associate pastor to be more precise.

I wouldn’t have guessed that you’re a minister.

Why not?

You look too young.

I’m 28 years old.

Second Presbyterian. Is that the church that has the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier from the Revolutionary War?

No, that’s another Presbyterian Church in Alexandria, the Old Presbyterian Meeting House. It’s much older than my church.

Why do they call it a meeting house, and not a church?

Well, before the Revolution, the only congregations allowed to use the term ‘church’ belonged to the Church of England. So when the Presbyterians organized a church in Alexandria in 1772, they called their building a meeting house. After independence from England, they decided to keep the name.

Interesting.

But I must admit I know more about the history of Alexandria than I do about Israel.

Where do you plan to visit? Joe asked.

I want to see the main biblical sites: Jerusalem of course, and Bethlehem, Nazareth, the Sea of Galilee, and maybe the Dead Sea. But I’m also interested in current events. I want to see if I can learn anything about the conflict between Jews and Arabs. If possible I’d like to talk to people from both sides to try to understand what’s going on. And my church would like me to give them a report of my findings

May I ask where you plan to stay?

"In Jerusalem, at the Gloria Hotel inside the Old City.

Joe, you said that you were on an archeological dig in Jerusalem. Sounds interesting. May I ask what you dug up?

I worked on the dig for about three weeks. It was summer and we worked only in the mornings before the days became too hot. The dig was outside the walls of the Old City, in the City of David.

You mean King David from the Old Testament?

"That’s the one, but what you Christians call the Old Testament, we call the Hebrew Bible or the Tanakh."

"Yes, sorry. Tanakh. I’ve heard that term before. Let’s see if I’ve got it right. Tanakh stands for Torah, the Law, Nevi’im, Prophets, and Ketuvim, Writings."

Very good!!

I did learn something in seminary. I had an Old Testament professor; I mean professor of the Hebrew Bible. Professor James Sourla spent a sabbatical in Israel in 1975. He told us about working a few weeks helping with a dig near the Temple Mount. As I recall, he said that Professor Benjamin Mazar was in charge of the dig. He told us that he spent his entire time lifting debris out of a large cistern, not very exciting work. But one day, when they were near the bottom of the cistern, he found something amazing: five unbroken clay oil lamps. He called the supervisor of the dig over to take a look. The supervisor explained that they were Herodian oil lamps. Do you know anything about Herodian oil lamps?

Sure. They’re well known. You may see examples in various museums in Jerusalem. They’re simple, distinctive clay oil lamps usually dated from between 37 BCE and 70 CE.

Let me see… BCE means Before Common Era and CE means Common Era. That’s what Jewish scholars use instead of BC and AD. So those dates would encompass the life of Jesus, right?

Right.

My professor said that he was amazed that these little lamps were unbroken in spite of the tons of stone and dirt above them. He explained that they must have been protected by the way some large stone blocks had formed a protective shield above them. He was disappointed that he wasn’t allowed to keep any of the five little lamps. They may be in some museum now. But he showed us about a dozen pieces of broken lamps he found in a big shard dump. These were mostly the stone mouthpieces of the lamps, some of them charred black from use.

I’m sure that the cistern your professor excavated is just south of the Temple Mount. Mazar’s excavation also dug down to the pavement level in front of the Western Wall.

The Western Wall, is that the same as the Wailing Wall?

"Same wall, but the place where people pray is further north along the wall. There is an earthen ramp leading up to the Temple Mount area that separates the section of the wall where we worked.

After Mazar’s excavations ended, the big area around the southwest corner of the Temple compound was turned into an archeological garden and museum where the public can visit.

"I’ll add that to my list. I want to see lots of ancient sites, Bible sites.

But like I said, I’m also curious about what’s happening today between Arabs and Jews.

Good luck with that! It’s a complex issue and you’ll find plenty of opinions especially among Israelis. Maybe you’ve heard the old saying, ‘Where two Jews are arguing, there are three opinions.’ But if you’re really interested, I’ll be willing to explain my view of the Jewish State once we’re in Israel.

I’d like that. I want to learn as much as possible while I’m there.

With that, Joe reached into his pocket and handed me his business card.

This is my cell phone number and email. Feel free to call me if you have time.

Joe then asked to be excused and got up out of his window seat. This made me move to the aisle past the young woman who had her eyes closed during the first part of our flight although I wasn’t sure she was sleeping. Now she opened her eyes, stood up and moved to the aisle so we could let Joe out. Only then did I get a good look at her: She was slim, well over five feet tall, with short, black hair and brown eyes. She wore a skirt with black leggings and had on a long-sleeved blouse. I introduced myself and asked her name.

Leila.

Have you visited Israel before?

I grew up in the West Bank.

It’s my first visit so I’m not sure of my geography.

What’s called the West Bank is part of occupied Palestine. I’m from a village not far from Ramallah, which is a few miles north of Jerusalem.

So you’re an Arab?

Yes, Palestinian.

Sorry, but aren’t Palestinians Arabs?

‘Palestinian’ is more specific. It means people from Palestine. ‘Arabs’ is a more general term for Arabic-speaking people in many countries.

You speak perfect English.

Thank you. She smiled for the first time. Like many Palestinians I learned English from childhood. I also studied English literature at Birzeit University near Ramallah. I’m just returning from three years in the States where I studied history. I also speak French.

Really!

Yes, in fact when I was 15 years old I won a contest for speaking French and the prize was a trip to Paris. It was…

Our conversation was interrupted by Joe’s return. At that point, Leila stopped talking, took her seat and began reading her magazine. I decided not to force the conversation and for the rest of the flight I occupied myself with the meals we were served, watching two movies on the little screen in front of me and trying to take a nap.

DAY 2

A fter we landed at Ben Gurion Airport near Tel Aviv, I retrieved my suitcase and found myself in line at passport control with Leila. I noticed that she now had on a head scarf which she hadn’t been wearing on the plane.

Mr. DeQuill, if you really want to learn about Palestinians, you could talk to my uncle. He’s a lawyer. Here’s his cell phone number and address in Jerusalem.

She gave me a folded piece of paper on which she had printed the name Suleiman ibn Mahmoud, a phone number, an email address, and the street address: 14 Al-Bairek Street, Old City, Jerusalem.

His place is near the Via Dolorosa, but it’s a little hard to find. You should call first.

I thanked her and she went to another line.

The line moved forward until I came to a uniformed woman who asked my purpose in visiting Israel.

I’m a tourist.

Have you been here before?

No, first time.

Do you have any Palestinian relatives?

No.

The woman stamped a piece of paper and put it into my passport. I rolled my suitcase and carry-on to an ATM machine and withdrew about $200 worth of Israeli shekels. Outside the terminal, I found a van going to Jerusalem. The driver put my luggage in the back, and after a few other passengers boarded, we were on our way.

Soon we were winding up a steep highway. Since all the maps I had ever seen were flat, I was surprised how steep the road was up to Jerusalem.

The van dropped me off just inside the Jaffa Gate in the Old City. It was only a short walk to the Gloria Hotel. When I checked in, the man behind the counter asked me if I knew that there would be a sound and light show that evening at the Tower of David next to the Jaffa Gate. He said, They have a good museum there too. And if you go to the show, be sure to wear a jacket. It can get cool here at night.

I had intentionally scheduled my trip right after Easter to take advantage of cooler weather. At home the summers are hot and humid. I wanted to avoid such weather while exploring the Holy Land. Before I left I bought an app for my smart phone that was called Guide to the Holy Land. It had recommended the Tower of David sound and light show.

After depositing my luggage in my room, I went out and found the ticket office where I bought a combined ticket for The Tower of David Night Spectacular and The Tower of David Museum. I was looking forward to seeing the remains of a tower that King David had built in the city.

The entrance to the Tower of David was over a short bridge spanning what looked like a moat. I wondered if it had ever been filled with water. Inside the ancient ruins, ticket holders were directed to the seating area in the open which was already more than half occupied. By now the sky was almost completely dark and the night air had become cool. I wondered how it could be hot here during the day and cool at night. It must be the elevation I thought. Somewhere I had read that Jerusalem is nearly 2,500 feet above sea level.

The inner open area of the Tower of David looks like it may have been a fortress or palace. However there was no clear pattern to remaining structures which appeared to be partial remnants from various ancient buildings including what looked like a tall, circular tower.

The light show began by plunging us into darkness followed by a narrator who began telling the story of the different periods of history. As he spoke, the ancient white limestone walls served as movie screens for the projection of lively, colorful images rapidly depicting centuries of the history of Jerusalem. The images were accompanied by background music, both instrumental and vocal. The entire show lasted only about 45 minutes.

I came away with a sense of awe realizing the depth and diversity of the history of this land. It struck me that my knowledge of the Holy Land was limited to the timeframe of the Bible. I knew almost nothing of the other periods of history except for the Crusaders and their violent occupation of the land in the name of Christ. Suddenly my picture of the Holy Land acquired much more depth. I felt like a small and insignificant tourist privileged to stand where thousands and thousands of others had stood: As the sound and light narrator had said, Peasants and prophets, kings and conquerers, pilgrims and builders; all now long forgotten.

My watch indicated it was 1:15. I had forgotten to reset it to the local time after my arrival. It was already 8:15 p.m. in Jerusalem. I had lost seven hours and my body was still on East Coast time. I wasn’t tired, but was getting hungry. I saw the lights of a restaurant at the end of a short, narrow street around the corner from my hotel. I walked up the street and was seated outside by a friendly waiter at the Versavee restaurant. I ordered a plate of hummus and French fries and asked about the different beers on the menu. The waiter recommended the Taybeh beer and told me it was from the only Palestinian brewery, in a town of the same name not far from Jerusalem. So I ordered a Taybeh beer which I enjoyed with my meal.

Back in my hotel room, I remembered that I needed to write an email to Fred Sterling, an elder of the board of directors of my church (which Presbyterians call the session.) Fred is a remarkable man who earned a Ph.D. from Yale in American history and taught many years at Georgetown University before retiring. He was on the committee that hired me to be an associate pastor of the church. After beginning my service there, I discovered that Fred loved to talk about American history. I spent many hours sitting in the library of the church as he told me fascinating details of early American history. He is also interested in politics and had urged me to report my observations of what was going on in Israel.

Bill, he said, I’m not sure that our American news media is always a reliable source of information about what’s happening in Israel. Maybe you’ll have a better picture when you’re there. I’d like to know what you discover. And be sure to let me know when you arrive, so we’ll know you’re safe.

I hooked up my laptop computer and wrote this email to Fred:

Dear Dr. Sterling, I arrived safely in Israel. The country is more fascinating than I imagined. I’m staying at a hotel in the Old City of Jerusalem. Tonight I attended a spectacular sound and light show at the Tower of David and learned some history of this ancient land. Thanks to you and everyone in the church who helped make my trip possible.

- Bill

DAY 3

T he next morning I had breakfast at the hotel. The food was adequate, but the coffee tasted weak. After breakfast I wandered outside the Jaffa Gate, across a small square and down steps to the beginning of a newly constructed shopping street which I learned later is called the Mamilla Mall. It’s a long pedestrian street with various shops on either side. At the beginning of the street, on my left, I saw a sign that said Aroma Espresso Bar. The place was crowded with customers. I entered and was able to order a cappuccino and a butter almond croissant.

While I waited for my order I noticed that several of the young people having breakfast were in uniform and that many of them were women. I knew that the Israeli Defense Force (IDF) requires everyone to serve including women. I also noticed that several of the soldiers had their rifles with them. I had never seen soldiers in America carrying weapons in public except in a parade. I mused that the state of Israel utilizes all its resources including women to keep itself strong and that perhaps women and men are treated equally here. Still I wondered why the public show of military force.

I decided to take my little breakfast outside on the veranda where I found a table with a view of a green garden area below. The morning sun was just beginning to warm the day. I checked a map of Jerusalem on my cell phone and was surprised to see that the green area adjacent to the shopping center was called Gehenna. I knew from my study of the Greek New Testament in seminary that in the King James Version of the Bible this word is translated as hell.

I decided to do a search for the word on my phone and found that the word Gehenna is the Greek transliteration of the Hebrew Gehennom meaning Valley of [the sons of] Hinnom. This valley, south and west of Jerusalem, was where some of the ancient Israelites passed children through fire which most likely means sacrificed their children to the Canaanite god Molech. References to this include II Chronicles 28:3; 33: 6; Jeremiah 7:31 and 19:2-6.

I also read that by the 1st Century Gehenna had become an unclean place for burning trash from the city of Jerusalem. Another article said that in the Gospels Jesus used the word ten times, but that Paul, the apostle, never used it—most likely because it would have had no meaning to people who lived outside Jerusalem. James, the brother of Jesus, who lived in Jerusalem and became the leader of the church there used the term Gehenna just once in his letter. In the New International Version, James 3:6 says, The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell. Clearly that has nothing to do with judgement or eternal torment.

And when I examined Jesus’ usage of the term Gehenna, I saw that it was used as a metaphor of destruction without any connotation of eternal torment for the unredeemed. In effect he was saying, Be careful or you’ll end up in the city dump. Only later did Christian imagination embellish the idea of hell in fanciful literature such as Dante’s Inferno where hell is described as a place of eternal torment for unrepentant sinners.

After finishing my second breakfast, I decided to have a closer look at hell and wandered down to see an expansive, well-manicured grass lawn in a shallow ravine. It reminded me of a golf course. As I walked further down the ravine, I was surprised to see a large stage, a place for concerts or other outdoor performances. Looking at my map on my cell phone, I saw that the ravine went on down to my left to the south side of the Old City becoming a steeper valley or wadi.

I hadn’t imagined how rugged the topography of Jerusalem was until I started walking around it. Maps are helpful, but don’t tell the whole story.

I walked back up out of the valley, out of hell toward the Jaffa Gate.

On top of the steps going up from the Mamilla Mall I saw a young man wearing a yarmulke handing out flyers. I approached him to see what he was promoting. He handed me one of his flyers. The headline said, Time to Rebuild the Temple. I gave him back the flyer and said, I don’t think that’s a good idea.

I had read about fringe groups who aspire to somehow fulfill Scripture by rebuilding the Temple on its ancient site. But I also read that this would involve removing structures like the Dome of the Rock and the Al-Aqsa Mosque which are holy to Muslims. Such an action could precipitate a terrible war.

As I walked away the young man yelled out to me, Anti-Semite! It was the first time anyone had called me that.

Later that morning I decided to visit the Tower of David Museum. Although there were no ancient artifacts in the museum, I was impressed with the models, dioramas and films. However, when I looked up the history of the Tower of David in my digital guide book, I learned that the Citadel and the Tower of David have nothing to do with King David from the Bible. The fanciful idea about the tower may have come from the Song of Solomon (chapter 4, verse 4) where the writer is praising the beauty of his beloved: Your neck is like the tower of David, built in courses; on it hang a thousand bucklers, all of them shields of warriors (New Revised Standard Version). Whatever tower the writer of this erotic song had in mind must have been in ancient Jerusalem which is outside the current walls of the Old City; and that tower must have been destroyed long ago.

I also learned that the Citadel is a medieval fortress with architectural additions from later periods. What is called the Tower of David is really a Turkish minaret built sometime between 1635 and 1655. It was added to a Mamluk mosque. I realized that things are not always what they seem or what they are called, at least in Jerusalem. Later I reflected how ironic it is that a distinctive minaret, symbol of Islam, built by Turkish Muslims, is still attributed to King David who lived about 2,500 years earlier.

Climbing up ancient stone steps to the top of one of the walls of the Citadel, I had a magnificent view of the Old City including the golden dome of the Dome of the Rock and the Mount of Olives in the distance. I couldn’t imagine how many important events in history happened within the area that I could see.

Before going to Israel I had looked at possible tours I could join, but decided to wait until I was there and had a better idea of where I wanted to go. After leaving the Citadel, I found a little tour agency next to the Jaffa Gate and arranged an initial tour to Galilee that would depart in three days. I was glad to have a few days to explore Jerusalem before the tour to Galilee started.

I decided to walk a short distance to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and made my way through narrow streets