I wanted to travel and study in Israel since my late teens.  But life had a way of getting me to defer my dreams.  So the dream was put on "hold" for a few, uh, four actually, decades until a perfect opportunity came up.  Providential to say the least.

That divine appointment showed up in the form of Shoresh Tours, formed by a scrappy little band of Jewish-culture gourmands who take very seriously the idea that the whole matter of exploring the claims of one Jesus of Nazareth might best be performed in the places in which he hung out.  What a concept!  Let's look, these folks suggest, for a more authentic Jesus within the geography and culture and history of his native land.  And my take on this?  Where do I sign up?

For years, many in the West—including myself—have been crying, “Jesus yes, the Church, no,” yearning for a more meaningful understanding of history's most pivotal and controversial figure, than what has been dished up in American Churchianity.  There must be some way to drill deeper into the core of his message than what's been offered up by television evangelists and pop-theologians. Enter Shoresh Study Tours.

“I don't do pilgrimages,” the flinty guide barked out when we met.  “Without geography, you're nowhere!” she thundered at our little clutch of wandering, albeit middle-aged, students, waving her hand about her diminutive frame for effect.  We knew her as Kay, short for “Kishkush,” the gabby or talkative one.  Engaging, direct, satirically witty, and effusive in her unrestrained enthusiasm for this land and her role as tour guide, our love and respect for this dear fireball of a woman grew with each passing day.  Kay was a born storyteller, tirelessly unfolding the drama, the cultural and historic backdrop, and the seemingly insignificant—but mightily important—details in The Greatest Story Ever Told.

The Hebrew Scriptures served as our authoritative text.  Kay was our guide (small “g”), but she toted her Guidebook everywhere, unpacking a fuller understanding of a biblical event or concept through a close examination of a Hebrew word or root.  For example I learned I had a wholly mistaken view of “sacrifice.” In our Western understanding of this term, a person who makes a sacrifice gives up something of value, likely to benefit another.  For me, sacrificing anything felt like what Van Gogh must have felt like in choosing which ear to remove.  The Hebrew word kabod however, means “to draw nearer.” A Jew would offer a sacrifice believing that, in so doing, he was drawing nearer to his Maker.  Hardly the tough decision a sacrifice implied in my view, a Jew was in no way feeling he was the worse off for giving up a treasure.  Instead, his sacrifice brought him into intimacy with the Author of Life.

Now, you can get etymology lessons sitting in a classroom or a pew, but, for me, actually touching the Western (Wailing) Wall as I did, or walking through a deep tunnel to examine where archaeologists />unearthed the 500-ton foundation stones of Herod's temple, puts the whole discussion of Jewish sacrifice on an entirely different level.  You see, I was about as close to the historical Holy of Holies as one could be on a subterranean level, a place where the Yom Kippur sacrifice was made annually. Could I have obtained the same data in a classroom?  Perhaps.  Would it have made the same impact on me?  Not likely.  And though I’ve seen photos and video of Hasidic and Haredi Orthodox Jews, there’s nothing quite like being next to them, reverently nodding their heads at the Western Wall. 

I want to try to take the feeling of being there a bit further.  We walked into the Wohl museum in Jerusalem.  Down, down, down several steps we descended into ancient history.  The museum itself had been built over an archeological dig.  We saw evidence of an extraordinarily wealthy mansion decorated with mosaic tile floors, fresco walls, and large stone water pots (much costlier than their clay cousins).  Over six thousand square meters of antique residential opulence.  Kay pointed out the presence of a number of mikveh, ritual ceremonial baths required in Jewish religious practice.  Who best to fit the profile of these aristocratic mansion-dwellers but the Sadducees, and, more specifically, the High Priest?  Assuredly, Kay informed us, based on the symbolic (non-representational) use of art, the superlative location in relation to the temple, the mikveh, and the obvious display of wealth, we were likely standing in the first century courtyard of the High Priest.  “We're ninety-nine percent sure,” Kay now concluded, doling out her words in measured tones, “based on all this, that you're standing on the exact location where Peter denied Jesus.”

What?!  Are you serious?!   I've visited historical ruins of biblical sites throughout Europe and Asia, but this was the first time I felt chilled to the bone.  It was a moment in time (I’ll admit, I was caught off guard, because I don’t easily get gooseflesh) I’ll never forget.  Over the years I’d pooh-poohed the hype of “walking where Jesus walked” that was used to sell Americans on taking a tour to Israel, but here I was, smack in the middle of an existential experience unlike I’d ever known before.

This Shoresh tour’s focal point, “The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth,” was more than a marketing ploy.  Kay used it (sometimes ruthlessly) to weed out a multiplicity of competing historical data points.  After all, when you’re strolling through archeological sites, it’s easy to get distracted by Crusader walls at Caesarea Maritima or Catholic churches built atop what was a first-century village in Nazareth where The Annunciation of Christ’s birth took place.  By keeping our discussion to first-century life in the land of Israel, Kay made history come alive and deftly circumvented much of the historical minutiae with which we could easily have become sidetracked.  Sure, there’s lots of history everywhere you look in this wonderland of the Levant, but we were honing in on a particularly pivotal era and person.

“Look around you,” she invited, “what do you see in this topography?”  We were on our way from Nazareth, Jesus’s hometown, to Capernaum in Galilee, where he spent much of his time with his disciples.  Rocks.  Lots of rocks.  “Jesus was a stonemason,” Kay continued.  “The New Testament Greek word teknon, was translated carpenter in English, but do you see many trees around here?  Houses were built of stone,” Kay continued, “so it’s more likely Jesus spent his early years hauling heavy stone than our picture of him hammering nails.  Does that give you a different impression of him?”

Once again, Kay made us ponder.  Who was this Jesus?  So many of our ideas of his appearance came from Western artist depictions and Sunday School flannel board cut outs.  Jesus as a gentle shepherd, meekly holding a lamb or a little child.  Sure, he was kind.  But he was also the one who fashioned a whip in the temple grounds and growled at money-changers.  And now this….a stonemason? A guy who physically had to move around boulders for a living?  Maybe I need to reconsider a lot more of what I was taught.

But so you don’t get the wrong idea, my Shoresh Encounter was a lot more than getting on and off a tour bus, following a guide around all day.  It was a contextual experience of what it was like to live in the Land.  It included a stop for lunch to dine on St. Peter’s fish (tilapia), near the Sea of Galilee.  One night we enjoyed a Messianic Passover, reading the Haggadah of the Seder, artfully re-created by our hosts.  The Children of Israel were told to commemorate the first Passover annually with a special meal.  And, though our tour did not coincide with the actual time of year for Passover, we nevertheless enjoyed the full experience one evening at the dining hall of our lodging at Christ Church, located near the Jaffa Gate in Jerusalem.  The table was set with all the elements, and a sixteen-page guide was handed to each of the guests.  During the Seder, each participant was called upon to read a portion of the text, inviting the other participants to recite a text, sing a song, lift a cup, take a bite of matzah, or perform a symbolic gesture.  We engaged in the ritual with the help of our leaders who directed us in singing as they played instruments and explained the significance of the various foods.  Yoel and Laura Seton, Shoresh Directors, both grew up in Jewish families, but now embracing Messiah Yeshua, were able to bring in the full significance of the Paschal Lamb. 

This was, indeed, a study tour.  We were given a 36-page Reader on Day One and I (along with a few of my fellow-students) took copious notes in it along the way.  A non-student grumbled a little that there was too much emphasis on history, but hey, this is what we all signed up for!  We don’t need a five-hour break for shopping!  I, for one, thought there was ample time given to stop for the occasional souvenir and to visit the little shops and kiosks along the way.  We were never rushed, never herded into the next room, and care was always given to see that everyone was provided water, potty breaks and given free time to roam about on one’s own.  In all, I’d give the tour guides an A+ for conducting a well-balanced tour that left you satisfied but wanting to come back again for even more.

Shoresh doesn’t conduct just one kind of tour—they’re way more creative than that!  Check out their website for all their offerings.  I’m sure my particular tour experience was unique, as every experience must be.  But, looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing.  The pace was perfect—packing in the best of the best.   I never felt we were “on overload” or that we were just killing time.  The itinerary was well planned, the meals were always great, the lodgings were comfortable, the company was agreeable, and the location spectacular.  We knew we were building memories each day we awoke, knowing that just around the next corner another experience of modern or ancient Israeli life awaited us.

Before my flight to Israel, I knew I didn’t want to be part of a religious pilgrimage, only to return with a vial of holy water taken from the Jordan River.  I neither wanted to listen to a Western view of Eastern lands, nor have my anticipated cultural experience served up antiseptically by a guide who had merely read-up on the subject.  I knew I wanted to see this land through the eyes of those who both lived there and had an intense love of their subject and their land.  I know I received way more than what I’d hoped! 
Yes, I can’t wait to go back.  After many self-guided trips to other lands, I know I would have missed a ton of things in Israel, had I decided to be my own guide.  It would have been akin to the old saw, “a self-taught man has a fool for a teacher.” It would have been foolish to go there on my own, aided by only a guidebook.  I needed the context, the interpretation, and the seasoned wisdom of those who are part of the land, who have devoted years of intense study in order to transmit the fruit of their accumulated research in a remarkably palatable, free-flowing, and enjoyable way. 

And when I go back, I’m going with Shoresh!

Shoresh Study Tours
PO Box 14037
Jaffa Gate
Jerusalem, 91140, Israel

Email: shoresh@cmj-israel.org
Website: www.cmj-israel.org/shoresh

Phone: +972-2-628-4457
Fax: +972-2-628-4459
Mobile: +972 (0) 54-206-7865