Huqoq Mosaic Revealed and the Synagogue Typology Debate

Biblical Archaeology Review has featured our site, the Huqoq Excavation Project, in its December / January edition.  For the first time, the mosaic of Samson and the depiction of Judges 15 appear in print.  In the article, dig co-director Dr. Jodi Magness surveys the synagogue’s mosaic floor and gives it a historical and cultural context within the landscape of the ancient world.  This is undoubtedly the first of much ink to be spilled on the topic of the Huqoq synagogue, and it presents us with a great opportunity to delve into some current archaeological debates in which our synagogue will likely play a role.

Samson's lower half (right); two foxes tied to firebrand (left)

The first major debate is synagogue typology.  Without getting into too much detail, the debate focuses on whether or not certain types of synagogues were built during certain periods within antiquity.  Those who support a synagogue typology usually propose the following three “types” of synagogues:  Galilean built during 2-3 c. C.E., Transitional built during 4 c. C.E., and Byzantine built during 5-6 c. C.E.   These dates are largely derived from architectural and stylistic elements.  Those who oppose this typology point out that architecture and style vary regionally and were also in a constant state of flux.

It would seem to solve this debate we would merely have to turn to the ceramic and numismatic record.  Unfortunately, however, this only convolutes the debate.  Pottery and coins do appear in great quantity beneath synagogue floors, but there is no sure way to determine whether this material culture was placed there before synagogue construction or during a repair.  The most telling material culture comes from beneath foundational architecture, such as stylobates, for these would not have been removed after initial construction.  Coins especially help because they give us a concrete terminus post quem—“date after which” the synagogue must have been constructed.  Coins, however, could circulate for a hundred years of more before making their way below a synagogue, rendering even the most exact date on a coin contentious.

The traditional synagogue typology came into question in the early 1980’s with a re-examination of the synagogue at Capernaum, the hometown of the Christian apostle Peter.  Two Franciscan archaeologists (Loffreda and Corbo) argued that the 2-3 c. C.E. date of Capernaum’s synagogue was incorrect and should be pushed back to the 4-5 c. C.E.  Although the Franciscan argument for re-dating the Capernaum synagogue relied heavily on architecture, which is a methodology questioned by non-topologists, the ceramic and numismatic material corroborate this later dating (with the possibility of a even later date, as suggested by Dr. Magness).

Capernaum synagogue showing Corinthian capitals

 

Several archaeologists visited our synagogue at Huqoq during our excavation during the 2012 season.  Not surprisingly, each visiting archaeologist suggested a date that would further corroborate their own work and interpretation.  The dates included the second, third, fourth, and fifth centuries.  Dr. Magness, being the voice of reason, cautioned us about dating something before more information could be gathered.  In upcoming seasons, we will uncover more of the mosaic and eventually dig through portions of the floor (not covered by the mosaic) in order to gather ceramic and numismatic material for dating purposes. 

Our excavation the past two seasons has been meticulous almost to the point of frustration.  The co-directors and area supervisors insistence on slower progress, however, means that we are documenting absolutely everything.  Archaeology is a destructive science—once something is removed from the ground, it can never be examined in its original context again.  The better an excavations documentation, the better archaeologists not directly involved with the dig will independently be able to interpret the data. It is the hope of all involved on the Huqoq Excavation Project that our synagogue will aid in furthering the discussion on whether or not a synagogue typology exists.

Next week, I will introduce a lesser-known debate concerning ancient Judaism’s supposed ban on images appearing in synagogues.

Anyone seeking further information on the Huqoq Excavation Project or interested in donating to help fund the 2013 season, please visit Dr. Jodi Magness’s website or drop me an email / leave a comment below.

Apocalypse Now, Again

A year and a half ago, we somehow survived the appocalypse of May 20 as predicted by Herald Camping; and I believe we will also survive the Mayan apocalypse-that-never-was.  If t-shirts do not yet exist that say, "I survived the [insert apocalyptic date here] apocalypse," I would like to begin making them to cash in on this apparently annual tradition.  Since the world's eye remains transfixed on the end-of-the-world, I would like to take a moment to write a bit in general about ancient apocalyptic prophecy and the groups that produced them.

To begin, "apocalypse" is a cognate of the Greek verb apokalypto, meaning, "to reveal" and "to make known."  We may understand the phrase apocalyptic literature then as literature that makes known that which is unknown.  As a side note, because it has been in the media, the word "Armageddon" is a rendering of the Hebrew phrase har megiddo, meaning Mount Megiddo.  The author of Revelation names the valley below har megiddo as the location of the penultimate battle between the forces of good and the forces of evil.  The Book of Revelation, however, is not the only apocalyptic book in Jewish and Christian Scriptures.

A few examples of other texts with apocalyptic messages are Zechariah, Mark, and 2 Thessalonians.  Each text, though produced by different people in different times, shares a common origin:  production amidst a rapidly shifting cultural landscape.  Below we will examine each of these texts briefly to see the historical contexts out of which they arose.

The prophet Zechariah writes to a group of people who returned to Jerusalem following the Babylonian Exile.  The exiled people of Israel were able to return to their homeland through a bizarrely bloodless shift of power, wherein the Persian Empire told the empire of Babylonian that Persia now ruled.  Whereas Bablyon's policy was to move the aristocracy of conquered peoples to within the confines of the empire proper, Persia's policy was self-autonomy with regional Persian governors.  When Persia took control, many of those who had been in exile were given the option to return home.  Those who chose to return came back to a changed Israel.  Jerusalem's temple remained destroyed and those who had avoided exile had expanded their cultural influence.  Imagine going on an extended vacation (say...50 years)  and coming home to find others squatting in your house.  How would you respond?  Further, those raised in Bablyon were likely told stories of a future time in which Israel would return home, followed by the rest of the nations and peoples of the earth, to bow before their god.  How would this come to be if a foreign leader who served foreign gods ruled your land?  It is from this context in which Zechariah proclaims an age in which the davidic monarchy will be fully restored and all foreign nations and people will draw to Israel--either peacefully or through war.

In Mark, we read about Jesus of Nazareth teaching his followers about the imminent coming of the Kingdom of God.  This Greek word euthus, meaning "soon" or "imminent" occurs 41 times in the Gospel of Mark. (Compare that to the 14 times it appears throughout the other three canonical gospels!)  The reason for Mark's emphasis on the temporal reality of God's coming kingdom becomes clear when examined through a historical lens.  The Gospel of Mark exists as the earliest gospel, likely authored in or shortly after the year 70 CE--the same year Rome destroyed the Second Temple in Jerusalem.  Nearly 2,000 years later modern Judaism continues to mourn the loss of this temple on Yom Kippur.  There was no simple moving on after this calamitous event.  Judaism forever changed and every form of ancient Judaism responded slightly differently.  The Qumran community, who likely authored the Dead Sea Scrolls, responded by further separating themselves from the evil world and maintaining worship through reflecting in their community the manner of worship they believed to occur in the heavenly realm amongst the angelic hosts.  Rabbinic Judaism also began around this time in response to the cessation of worship at the Temple in Jerusalem.  The author of Mark followed a similar path as those at Qumran, believing that the present world was finished and God's kingdom would soon be ushered in through the return of their messiah.

Paul, in 2 Thessalonians, writes to a community in the Greek city of Thessaloniki, concerning the return of Jesus Christ.  According to Paul's letter, another person or group had visited the city telling Paul's audience that their messiah had returned but that they had missed out on the festivities.  Pauls tells his audience not be deceived and gives them an eschatological message similar to one we find in revelations:  

"Let no one deceive you in any way; for that day will not come, unless the rebellion comes first, and the man of lawlessness is revealed, the son of perdition, who opposes and exalts himself against every so-called god or object of worship, so that he takes his seat in the temple of God, proclaiming himself to be God." (2 Thes. 2:3-4)

That's a bit of weight off of the chest of Paul's audience, right?  Wrong. A few verses later, Paul tells his audience that this man of lawlessness is already at work:  "For the mystery of lawlessness is already at work; only he who now restrains it will do so until he is out of the way." (2 Thes. 2:7).  The end-of-times is not a future reality but a present one.

Who could be Paul's man of lawlessness?  This prestigious title goes to Emperor Caligula (r. 37-41) who ordered a statue of himself to be placed in Jerusalem's temple.  This single act would have brought the utmost offense to any Jew who fostered the slightest bit of anti-Roman sentiment (and likely engendered hate where it had not before existed).  In attempting to place this statue in the temple, Caligula was asserting Roman Imperial religion--in other words, the Jewish God was being exchanged for Roman emperor worship.

The purpose of these brief surveys is to show that apocalyptic literature originates from the context of a shifting cultural landscape.  In the case of Zechariah, it was not a violent shift but a societal one.  For the author of Mark and Paul, the cultural shift was one surrounded by violence.  Those who herald apocalyptic predictions today fail to grasp the historical and sociological context through which religious texts developed.  In the above discussed texts, the end of the world is not met in destruction--as often proclaimed--but in restitution.  The author of Revelation says that God "will wipe every tear from their eyes.  Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the firs things have passed away."  And the one who was seated on the throne said, "Behold, I am making all things new." (Rev. 21:4-5).  The end-of-times as expressed in biblical text then is not a calamitous end but a new beginning in which violence, pain, and suffering exist only in memory.

To wrap up this post, we must not use apocalyptic literature primarily to understand the past or to predict the future, but we must use apocalyptic literature to understand the present.  For the past is more an ingredient of apocalyptic literature than a foundation; and all future predictions made within such texts are the expectations of how God will draw history to its end.  The present is the only reality in which the authors of apocalyptic literature lived, and it is what drew these authors to reveal God's work in history and in their expectations for the-world-to-come.  If reading apocalyptic literature from the perspective of the authorial present is the hermeneutic key to understanding such texts, how might this lens of interpretation impact how we read apocalyptic literature today?

Day 39: The Final Day

It has been an incredible six weeks.  We could not have asked for a more exciting season of excavations, and I doubt that Jocelyn, Caroline, and I could have had a better week and a half in Jerusalem.  We are sitting in the guesthouse, getting ready to leave to catch a sherut (group taxi usually sits 10 people) to the airport in Tel Aviv.  Our flight leaves at 11:20 p.m. and we get to Newark in the early hours of the morning.  Caroline and I will continue to Nashville, getting in at 8:20 a.m.

The last three days have been incredible.  Two days ago, we spent more time exploring the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and the Church of St. Anne.  They were two very different experiences.  We all felt rushed and like we were always bothering the religious overseers at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.  Any question we asked seemed to be met with a harsh stare and even sometimes a brief roll of the eyes.  St. Anne was different.  The Church of St. Anne is known for its acoustics.  Groups visit the church for the sole purpose of singing.  One of our friends, Josh, has an incredible voice, which he put on display at St. Anne for all to hear.  The priests there loved it and continued to speak with us about all manners of things.  From singing to faith to archaeology, it was a surprisingly enjoyable and lively time.

Yesterday, we attended church again by the Jaffa Gate and then headed to the Davidson / Jerusalem Archaeological park.  It is a park alongside the western and southern retaining walls built to support the Temple Mount by King Herod (a continuation of the Western / Wailing Wall).  After several hours of exploration, we went to a friends apartment in the Old City for dinner.

Today was filled with goodbyes and a few more stops.  We met up with Shua one last time this morning.  She let us in the Rockefeller Center, where the Israel Antiquities Authority runs its administrative unit.  She showed us around and even got us into the back where she gave us each a t-shirt emblazoned with the IAA logo--a depiction of a menorah from a coin dating to the Hasmonean period.  The Rockefeller Center contains a tower that overlooks the city.  Shua had never been to the top (neither had we of course), but a kind man in the building let us up to look out over the city.  It was breathtaking!  I am not able to load the pictures now, but I will when I am home tomorrow.

After we said our farewells to Shua, we came back to the Old City and headed for the Temple Mount.  The site which had formally housed the First and Second Temples of Jerusalem now contains the holy Muslim sites the Dome of the Rock and the Al-Aqsa Mosque.  Visitors are only allowed atop the mount at certain times and must go through security.  The Dome of the Rock was awe inspiring.  Since we are not Muslim, we are not able to enter.  But we walked around and tried to invasion Herod the Great's renovated temple as it had stood 2,000 years ago.

Our last adventure was to Hezekiah's Tunnel in the City of David.  It was a famous tunnel that is actually mentioned in the Hebrew Bible.  An inscription was found dating the tunnels construction to the 8th c. B.C.E., confirming the biblical account.  It was about a 45 minute walk in the dark, with water ranging to just above my knees to just above our ankles.

I am going to have to bring this to a close because we will be leaving for the airport fairly soon.  Thanks for reading during this season of excavation.  If anyone is interested in participating or becoming a sponsor for the dig next year, do not hesitate to let me know.  I would be more than happy to get you in touch with one of our directors.

Day 37: Shabbat in Ein Karem

Two nights ago, Josh, Jocelyn, and I met up with Shua to visit David and Hannah Amit.  David is an Israeli archaeologist who spent time at our site this season helping both to teach and to excavate.  The Amit's live in the Talpyiot area of Jerusalem, which is a bit out of walking distance for the time of night we left.  We exited the old city and eventually hailed a cab.  We arrived around 8:30 p.m. and enjoyed many lively conversations and delicious deserts.  During one of our conversations, David, Hannah, and Shua were nearly exasperated that we had not yet visited the Mehane Yehuda--the large street market near the center of town.  All three convinced us to spend our next day there (Friday) because it would allows us to view the entire gamut of life in modern Jerusalem.  With our plans for the next day set, we headed back to our guest house and slept until morning.

We got a late start yesterday, but by nine we had set out.  We  exited the Old City and meandered around until we arrived in an area of town hat we recognized.  Once in an area that we recognized, we hopped over the Jaffa St. (one of the main streets) and followed the light rail tracks until we found the market.  The Amit's and Shua were right!  There were people in the market from every walk of life.  From ultra religious to secular, from local to tourist, from frantic individuals to calm individuals all buying fruit, fish, meat, and cheese.  One of the reason our friends had encouraged us to go on Friday is because Shabbat starts at sundown, making Friday the busiest weekday at the market.

We split up for a bit and while Josh and Caroline went to explore a cheese store, Jocelyn and I sat down for coffee.  We sat and watched for nearly an hour as people haggled over prices and made their purchases.  It was both entertaining and even a bit educational.  Our path eventually crossed with that of Josh and Caroline.  Once reunited, we grabbed a relaxing lunch of hummus and rice stuffed vegetables before heading back to the guest house to rest.

A couple of weeks ago, Shua had invited those of us who would be in Jerusalem to visit with her family for Shabbat dinner.  Her family had visited the dig site this year, and we were happy to get another chance to see them.  Shua picked us up in front of the Damascus Gate by the Old City, and we headed to Ein Karem, the area of the city where Shua grew up and where her family still lives.

Ein Karem is beautiful.  I may have a picture of two to load later, but any picture that I post will fail to do it justice.  The hustling and bustling of the city breaks, and rolling hills and small mountains covered in green take over the landscape.  We arrived, made our introductions (or re-introductions since some of us had brielfy crossed paths during the dig), and sat in the den.  Shua's sister and five-year-old niece arrived shortly after us.  While dinner was being finished, we played games with Avigail, Shua's niece.

When we sat down for dinner, the guys at the table were given kippot to put on our heads during the kiddush--the blessing over the wine and bread for Shabbat.  We listened with awe at the melody of the blessing.  I did not understand all of it (not by a long shot), but six years of biblical Hebrew allowed me to understand a decent portion.  First, Shua's dad blessed the challah bread and passed it around, inviting us each to take a portion to eat.  Next, he blessed the wine, which was then passed around in order to age--oldest to youngest.  After the wine had made it's round, Shua's mother--with a large smile on her face--ended the blessing by saying, shabbat shalom to which we all replied in return, "shabbat shalom!"

Dinner was delicious.  To write about it would require at least another page.  Suffice to say that we ate for what seemed like hours, enjoying one another's company and the spread of food before us.

After dinner, we sat, drank tea, and had desserts.  Shua is also a professionally trained pastry chef.  Working for the Israel Antiquities Authority requires a majority of her time, but she still manages to find both reasons to and patrons who enlist her baking skills.  It just so happened that last week, Shua baked for a family's party.  We were the lucky recipients of the extra desserts.

We finished the night with a rousing game of Sorry, until Avigail was about to fall over asleep.  With many goodbyes and promises to visit again next year, we concluded the night.

Day 35: All Over Town

We awoke early, grabbed breakfast, and headed to the Israel Museum yesterday morning.  The Israel Museum houses an expansive collection of exhibits spanning from ancient artifacts to modern art.  We spent all of our time in the archaeological section (about three hours) and just covered half of it.  Some of the more exciting artifacts in the museum are the Tel Dan inscription (an Iron Age citation of "the House of David"), an early cuneiform codex from the Bronze Age at Hazor, and the Shrine of the Book--the permanent exhibit for a large collection of the Dead Sea Scrolls.

 We took a short break around 12:30 p.m. in order to touch base with our friend Shua, who offered us to come by the museum and take us around the city for a bit.  We were on archaeology overload and ready for a bit of a break (and also excited to see our friend of course).


We met up with Shua in the museum who then led us to the Israel Antiquity Authority offices at the back of the complex.  She needed to pass along a few messages to people before leaving, but this side trip turned into the most exciting adventure of the day.  Once inside, Shua was a bit of a celebrity.  Her picture, along with Jodi's and David Amit's (another IAA archaeologist) had appeared the day before in all the major Israel newspapers because of the press release regarding our season at Huqoq.  We went around meeting archaeologists and listening to stories of past and present digs. 


When we arrived at the numismatist (coin) office, we received a special treat.  We were taken into the room that housed over 800,000 coins, spanning from the earliest to latest specimens.  We stood in awe as tray after tray of coins passed before our eyes.  The IAA numismatists gave us a mini-lecture about many of the coins, even allowing us to hold some of them.  It was an incredible and generous gesture, and it is one that we appreciated immensely.


With our adventures in the IAA Israel Museum offices concluded, we headed to a publication store to pick up a few books, and then headed to Ein Karem, the outskirts of Jerusalem where Shua grew up.  It is also the pilgrimage site known as the birthplace of John the Baptist.  We walked around town, ran a few errands, and finally sat down to lunch.


We left Ein Karem to return to the Old City for a quick nap.  We then went out to hear a lecture with Shua a few miles away concerning the politics of excavating Jerusalem in the past and present.  The lectures were in Hebrew, but we wore headsets with a translator doing her best to keep pace with the speakers.  On our way to the lecture, we stopped by the Armenian Hospice in the Muslim Quarter of the Old City to see where Shua had spent time excavating the past couple of years.


It was an adventurous and exciting day.

Day 34: The Mount of Olives

We ate breakfast and set off yesterday around 9 a.m.  Our destination was the Mount of Olives, which houses many churches and a massive Jewish burial ground that spans from ancient times to the present. There is a general resurrection prophesied in Zechariah, and it is said to take place in the Kidron Valley at the foot of the Mount of Olives.

We walked through the Old City, following the Via Dolorosa to the Lion's Gate exit.  Once out, we saw the mount stretching before us.  We began our ascent.  After about 10 minutes of walking, we ran into the Church of All Nations, a Franciscan church built by...you guessed it...many different nations.  The church marks the site of Gethsemane, which fences in a grove of olive trees that have been growing at the site for well over 2000 years.  Whether or not this is the true site is beyond knowing, but it was a powerful experience knowing that pilgrims had been coming to this very site for nearly 17000 years (Emperor Constantine dedicated it as such).

We then continued onward and upward with a second stop to walk along the rows of stone markers in the cemetery.  It appears as if people are buried above ground, but the sarcophagus like stones are actually blocks marking the underground burial.

Burial markers through a hole in the wall

Our next stop was a look out over the Old City, followed by our final climb to the top of the Mount of Olives, where we looked with what seemed like a thousand other tourists, over the Old City and the mount stretching before us.  Our climb up had taken about two hours.

The top of the mount, overlooking the Old City

On our way down, a small sign jutting from a building said, "Tombs of the Prophets Haggai and Malachi."  With our curiosity piqued, we stepped through the door to find humble living quarters of some Russian Orthodox monks.  We eventually came upon an old cistern that had been cut away to add stairs long ago.  A light shone in the darkness below, so we descended.  Once down, we met an Orthodox monk from France who explained the history of the cite.  It had been a cistern long ago but during the Byzantine period it was transformed into burial plots for Christians.  When the Byzantine builders were cutting out new tombs, they had accidently broken through to an earlier network of tombs.  We all lit candles and walked around, exploring the mini-catacombs.  We spoke for a while with Pierre (the monk) along the way as he told us a bit about himself and we shared about ourselves.  Once he found out we were interested in archaeology, he quickly showed us several of the ancient inscriptions carved out of the limestone walls.

Julie standing in the dark with her candle

After completing our candlelit escapade, we paid our respects and continued on our journey back down the mount.  On the way, an Orthodox convent had opened its doors that claims to house the bones of Mary Magdalene.  We stopped in the church (the girls had to cover their hair) and spent about 30 minutes looking at the icons.  One of our group even got a special tour of some of the older icons in the orthodox church.

At the bottom of the mount, there was one more site that interested me especially.  Toward the bottom of the cemetery sits three ancient markers:  Absalom, Zechariah, and B'nei Hatzir.  The markers of Absalom and Zechariah were likely attributed to their namesakes during the Middle Ages.  In all likelihood, these markers marked wealthy Jews who wanted to be as close as possible to the resurrection to take place in the Kidron Valley (which sat directly beside us at this point).  The third tomb however is rightly attributed to a wealthy priestly family of the first century C.E.  We were able to climb up into the tomb and explore the individual sepulchres.

The Old City on the right; the Tomb of Absalom on the bottom left

At night, we met up with Chad, our area supervisor, one last time before he leaves for the States tomorrow.  We went into West Jerusalem, the European-esque side of the city, to enjoy food and company before parting ways for the night.

Today, we are taking a taxi (or a bus if we can figure out where to get on) to the Israel Museum, which should be a day long endeavor.  It houses everything from modern art to archaeology (including many of the Dead Sea Scrolls!).

Day 33: Yad Vashem

We began yesterday with a leisurely stroll through the Old City before many of its shops opened their doors.  We meandered to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre where we sat outside to enjoy some coffee and lemonade.  The foot traffic began to pick up and we noticed more people opening their doors after about an hour, which spurred us to continue our journey.  We stopped in stores as we explored the city further, even finding the store where one of our friends is volunteering for the next month.  Around lunchtime, we made it back to our guesthouse to prepare to set out across the city to visit Yad Vashem, the holocaust (Shoah in Hebrew) museum.

A new light rail system began operations just under a year ago that stretches from one side of Jerusalem to the other.  One of the stops is by the Damascus Gate, which is close to where we are staying.  Due to delays and stopped trains, our trip took about an extra 30-45 minutes, but we eventually made it to the end of the rail system from where we walked about a half mile to the museum.

The name Yad Vashem comes from Isaiah 56:5, which says, "And I will give to them in my house and within my walls a memorial and a name (yad - a memorial; va'shem - and a name) that shall not be cut off."  If you have been to the Holocaust museum in Washington, D.C., it is a very different experience.  The museum narrates the NAZI rise to power and the groups subsequent persecution and mass murdering of Jewish people (it also includes information about others who died, including Gypsies, those with disabilities, and homosexuals).  Pictures were not allowed within the building, but I would encourage you to look through some online.  The museum provided a plethora of information which was at times emotional.  I felt like a key difference between the two museums was that the Yad Vashem wished to inform over eliciting specific emotional reactions at certain junctures.  


One of the most moving portions of the museum came at the very end.  After we exited the main museum and had walked through the gardens for a bit, we entered into a monument dedicated to the 1.5 million children who were murdered.  The room was completely dark save for a great number of lit candles incased within glass panes and panes of mirrors.  It looked like a million candles sparkled before us, stretching into eternity.  In the background an orchestra played as a voice read off the names and ages of those murdered.  


It was a moving experience, and one that I am happy to have had.  We are exploring more sites around the Old City today so that we can eventually meet up with our friend Shua later this afternoon to hangout and see some of the ongoing excavations in the Old City.