"It gets late early out here."

Yogi Berra, king of the malapropism and other mis-statements once said, "It gets late early out here."  I thought of that at dinner tonight as I looked around at our group.  Many in the group went to Hammat Gader this afternoon. It is a hot springs that still gushes hot spring water exactly as it did 2000 years ago. Large pools claiming to cure every ill entice one in for a relaxing/healing time.  The end result for those of us who spent more than an hour in very warm sulphur spring water was relaxation to the max and a sense that it was a whole lot later in the day than it really was.  Time to turn in could not come soon enough.

Oops, Joe Greemore is on his head again.

Others in the group enjoyed walks around the sea, or time to nap and catch up.

It was another amazing day.  We began at the Primacy of Peter Church.  A beautiful little church on the sea that remembers the resurrection story in John 21 when Jesus stands on the shore and guides the disciples to a better place to fish.  As they have breakfast of fish and bread together, Jesus and Peter have that remarkable conversation in which Peter was essentially promoted from being a fisherman to being a shepherd. Hearing Peter's affirmation of love and trust, Jesus tells him to "Feed and tend my sheep". This statue is a striking reminder of that reversal and promotion for Peter.  Shepherds were low on the employment ladder and it was a dangerous job. Peter came through and literally held the early church together at a crucial time in its development.

We saw no sheep today, but there was a family of hyrax, rock badgers out catching the rays of sun on the rocks.

The Church of the Beatitudes offered us a stunning view of the sea and then we moved on to the Church of the Multiplication, remembering the Feeding of the 5000.  The best way to remember that miracle, I believe, is to think of how in Jesus' hands the mere becomes more. Five loaves and two fish fed the crowd and there were leftovers. Grace and love can do that.

A fascinating end to the learning portion of the day was a visit with Father Kelly, who I met last year.  He gave us a tour of the archaeological dig at Magdala, the home of Mary Magdalene.  The dig is not yet open to the public.  The visit gave insight into the tedious, but remarkable process of uncovering history.  I have participated in a dig and it is very real detective work.   Father Kelly with the lilt of an Irish brogue, was the perfect host. The coin he is holding was just discovered.

And this was a short day! Now it is late for real.
Blessings,
Mary