June 3rd (part 2): Walking in His footsteps

In my last Israel trip entry, I said that June 3rd was kind of a special day. It was the day we toured all of the towns around the Sea of Galilee, where Jesus did the bulk of His earthly ministry. This day included stops at the three towns where Jesus did most of His preaching and teaching: Capernaum, Bethsaida, and Chorazin (collectively known as the "Evangelical Triangle"). The photo you see here is a sign welcoming us to Capernaum, “The Town of Jesus.” Matthew 4:13 tells us that after His baptism and subsequent time of fasting and temptation in the desert, Jesus lived in Capernaum.


This picture is of a fifth-century church built by Byzantine pilgrims that marks the location of the house of Simon Peter. We know that Peter had a house in Capernaum from Mark 1:29 and Luke 4:38. Also, in this immediate area, archaeologists have unearthed inscriptions from another house, dated to the late first-century A.D., that reference Jesus Christ, Peter, and the Eucharist (Communion, or the Lord’s Supper). It was likely a house church (that’s where churches met back then) that met just a few decades after Jesus lived.


In Israel, churches are often built on top of places of historical significance. At the location of Peter’s house, it has happened twice. A modern church is built over this fifth-century Byzantine church. The photo that you see is an overhead view of the old church from inside the modern church (obviously, looking through protective glass).


Here is a picture of a statue of Peter in Capernaum, complete with a freshly-caught fish at his feet. Not seen in this photo are several inscriptions underneath the statue noting the significant life of Peter.


Having finished our tour of the towns on the northern side of the Sea of Galilee, we proceeded to check out a few interesting places on the eastern shore of the Sea. The first was near a place called Gergesa. The Bible describes it as the region of the Gadarenes. The picture you see is of a steep bank dropping into the Sea of Galilee (it might not look terribly steep in the picture, but believe me, it was very steep). This is the probable place where Jesus drove a legion of demons out of a possessed man, and sent the demons into about two thousand pigs. The pigs then ran down this steep bank into the Sea of Galilee and drowned (see Mark 5:1-17).

By the way, I had always been slightly puzzled by this passage in that, I thought Jews did not tend, raise, or eat pigs. I asked about this. The professor reminded us that the eastern side of the Sea of Galilee was known as the region of the Decapolis (a term mentioned in the Bible). As the name suggests, this was an area of ten Roman cities. Thus the pig farmers were likely not Jewish.


This picture is of prominent mountains on the northeast shore of the Sea of Galilee, and is the most likely sight of the Feeding of the Five Thousand. This is deduced primarily from what we are told in the biblical accounts, i.e. these mountains were in a somewhat remote area, removed from towns and villages, and could support the amount of people referenced in this event (which was five thousand men plus women and children, perhaps fifteen to twenty thousand in all).


Our last stop of the day was at the remains of the Roman city of Hippus. Hippus was one of the cities of the Decapolis. The photo that you see is the main road of the ancient city, the “cardio maximus.” Every Roman city had one. It was kind of like “Main Street.”


Hippus had a lot of interesting Roman remains. In this picture you can see an example. But, what I’d also point out is the mountain top in the background. Hippus was a city that rested atop a mountain of a few thousand feet! I remember as our bus approached Hippus, I noted a large mountain in front of us, but I thought, “No worries, the bus will take us to the top.” But guess what? The bus stopped half way and we had to walk the rest of the way up! Believe me, after a long day of touring, the last thing I wanted to do was make another long, steep trek.

As I think back on my trip now, I can remember having this thought on several of our “final stops of the day.” This trip was mentally and physically taxing. By the end of some days, I just didn’t feel like making one last climb to another ancient city’s ruins. But you know what? In every case, that last stop of the day was well worth any climb. I saw some amazing things on June 3rd, and even though Hippus may not seem to compare to a boat ride across the Sea of Galilee or Peter’s house in Capernaum, nevertheless, I can’t tell you how amazing it was to see the intricate nature of this Roman city perched all alone atop this breathtakingly steep hill. I would have hated to have missed it. I would also have hated to have been the first-century “delivery man” who had to hike a bunch of supplies up that hill every day for the people of Hippus!

Pet peeve #435: It’s not their “bye week”

As long as I’m on the subject of pet peeves, allow me to share another one briefly. We are in the middle of another NFL football season, and the pet peeve I describe here has to do with a specific word that I hear used all of the time during the season.

The word is “bye.” Not “bye” as in “good-bye,” but rather, as it relates to sports schedules. In the NFL, each team has one Sunday off during the regular season. The week varies for each team. For instance, this coming Sunday, four teams do not play (the Detroit Lions, Indianapolis Colts, New York Jets, and Houston Texans). The following week, four other teams are off, etc. This scheduling template has been used by the NFL for years.

The problem that I have is that for years now, whether it’s athletes or sportscasters or sports journalists or casual fans, I generally hear people refer to a team’s off week as their “bye week.” If you are a football fan, you’ve no doubt heard it a million times. “The Steelers are 5-2 going into their bye week” or “Who do the Falcons play this week? . . . Oh, it’s their bye week.”

And as is the case with most of my pet peeves, for years I suffered silently (up until recently, that is, when I can now blog about them!). Externally I grinned and carried on with the conversation, or with watching the telecast, or with listening to the sports talk radio program. But internally, I screamed, “IT’S NOT A BYE! THAT’S NOT WHAT THE MEANING OF ‘BYE’ IS!”

Let’s go to the dictionary.

Webster’s: A bye is “a position of a participant in a tournament who has no opponent after pairs are drawn and advances to the next round without playing.”

Dictionary.com: Bye: “in a tournament, the preferential status of a player or team not paired with a competitor in an early round and thus automatically advanced to play in the next round.”

The NFL regular season schedule gives each team a week off, not a bye. A bye has to do with automatically advancing in a tournament. Venus Williams might get a bye in the first round at Wimbledon, but the Detroit Lions do not have a bye this weekend. They just have the week off. Yet the use of “bye” is nearly universally accepted as valid to describe these off weeks. In fact, I just went to ESPN’s website to check out the NFL schedule, and sure enough, they use the term “bye” when listing the teams not playing on given Sundays.

I think the main reason I have this particular peeve is that I was a wrestler in high school, and an average one at that. As such, I often had to wrestle against a comparable opponent in the first round of a tournament. If I won, I inevitably would then have to face the top wrestler in my weight class in the second round. And more often than not, he was coming off of a bye, i.e. there were not enough wrestlers to match everyone up with a first-round opponent, so the top wrestler was not paired with an opponent and thus advanced to the next round without wrestling . . . the textbook definition of a bye!

And, more often than not, I would get manhandled in the second round of these tournaments. Having come off of a hard-fought win, I would go up against the fresh top-seeded guy, and I didn’t stand much of a chance. Those were painful matches, but looking back, at least I can say that they forever cemented in my mind the meaning of the word “bye.”

Pet peeve #253 (actually, let’s just call it #300): Estimation

Quick: How many seconds are in an hour?

(Pause to let you come up with the answer.)

Okay, you probably quickly recalled that there are 60 seconds in a minute, and 60 minutes in an hour. Therefore, the number of seconds in an hour is determined by multiplying 60 x 60, which equals 3,600. That’s the correct answer, right?

Well, hold on. Remember that I said “Quick.” I would suggest there is another way to come up with an answer, and it is theoretically quicker. I do it by estimating. Let me explain. I make a mental note that there are 60 seconds in a minute, and 60 minutes in an hour. But to make it easier to calculate, I round each 60 to the nearest hundred, which in this case would be 100. Thus my quick estimate of how many seconds are in an hour is 100 x 100 = 10,000.

So even though the actual answer is 3,600, I was able to come up with a reasonable guess of 10,000 by doing some simple, quick rounding. Surely you can begin to see the power of estimation.

Does this strike you as ridiculous?

Well, stay with me for a moment. Here is an actual question from an actual math worksheet assigned to my fourth-grader a few weeks ago. They were studying estimation.

846,543 – 587,018 =

I will spare you the need to do the calculations and tell you that the real answer to this subtraction problem is 259,525. But to find the answer by estimating, the “proper procedure” is to round to the nearest 100,000. So the first number rounds down to 800,000 and the second number rounds up to 600,000. So, the correct estimate of the answer is 200,000.

Now, I don’t know about you, but this astounds me. What good is estimating if your estimate is almost 60,000 off from the real answer? I’ll say it again. The real answer is 259,525, but the “correct” estimate is 200,000. Really, what’s the point? It’s like me “estimating” that there are 10,000 seconds in an hour. It’s meaningless. Not to put too fine a point on it, but according to Webster, an estimate is “an approximate calculation,” and approximate means “nearly correct or exact.” An estimate is supposed to be close to the real answer!

Sarcastic parent that I am, I tried to remember learning estimation when I was in grade school. And for the life of me, I can’t remember it. I might just be forgetting it. Or perhaps I thought it was so stupid that I’ve blocked it out of my memory. But what I do remember is this . . . brace yourself . . . I remember learning how to add and subtract really big numbers rather quickly so WE COULD GET THE RIGHT ANSWER THE FIRST TIME AND NOT HAVE TO MAKE BOGUS ESTIMATIONS!

Nevertheless, maybe I can briefly offer a more plausible alternative. Look once again at the problem I posed above. Maybe instead of teaching kids to round off to the nearest 100,000 in a situation like this, they can be taught to round off to the nearest 10,000. This would make the estimate look like this:

850,000 – 590,000 = 260,000

Now that’s a lot closer of an estimate! Of course, one might object that this would not be fast because a child would have to subtract 85 – 59 in his or her head rather quickly. That seems difficult. All I would say to that is I disagree. Instead of trying to subtract 59, just subtract 60 then add 1 back on to it. That makes it quick, and kids are capable of learning a trick like that.

Well, I’m going to estimate that a few people will not agree with my flow of thought on this matter, or wonder why it bugs me. But hey, that’s why they call them “pet peeves.”

June 3rd (part 1): Put your hand in the hand . . .

I was in Israel for three weeks, and without exception, every day was amazing, awe-inspiring, awesome, plus many other superlatives. It’s hard for me to say that any one day was better or more fascinating than any other. But if I did speculate in such matters, June 3rd might jump out as special. This is the day that our class toured the towns bordering the Sea of Galilee, so we saw many places where Jesus taught, healed, and performed miracles—including the Sea itself! Because we saw so much this day, I have decided to split it into two entries. As you can see by this first photo, our day began with a boat ride across the Sea of Galilee.


The resort where we stayed was on the southeast shore of the Sea, so our early morning ride took us across to the north/northwest shore, where Jesus performed much of His earthly ministry. This picture was taken from the back of the boat. At the front, on the right side, you can see our professor, with a microphone, teaching us. This reminds me of just how jam-packed our teaching was. The professor rarely wasted time; she spent a ton of time lecturing, answering questions, and providing various wise tidbits on bus rides (and boat rides) all over the country. I can't say enough about what an excellent scholar and teacher she is. We never stopped learning.


This is a picture of the Sea of Galilee from the boat. Two things. First, in the distance you can see the Arbel Pass, the narrow ravine that leads into the Sea of Galilee region. You might recall that we previously were on top of that dangerously steep mountain. Second, amidst all the excitement of taking the boat ride, I remember taking a minute to just silently gaze out on the water. We were crossing over the water where Jesus walked! This was the sea that Jesus calmed! It was almost too much to take in. It’s one of those experiences that is so incredible that I sometimes think it must have been a dream.


When we got to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, we went to a museum to see a significant archaeological find. This photo is of a first-century boat discovered under the Sea of Galilee in the 1980s. The story of how this boat was recovered is an amazing one in and of itself, because it took quite an effort (hundreds of volunteers from all over the world) to keep the 2000-year old boat intact and preserved. There are various clues that pinpoint the age of this boat to the time of Jesus. Unfortunately, there are no initials carved into the boat, so there is no way of knowing whether Jesus or His disciples (some of whom were fishermen) owned or operated this boat.


On the north shore of the Sea of Galilee, we visited the three towns known as the “Evangelical Triangle”—Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum. These are the three towns where Jesus did most of His teaching and preaching. The picture you see here is of a synagogue in Chorazin. Specifically, this is a prominent chair found in many ancient synagogues known as the “chair of Moses.” It was the place where the teacher would sit while teaching. You might recall that Jesus once harshly criticized the Jewish leaders when He taught, “The scribes and the Pharisees are seated in the chair of Moses. Therefore do whatever they tell you and observe it. But don’t do what they do, because they don’t practice what they teach.” (Matthew 23:2-3) Some of the students got their picture taken sitting in this chair, but after the professor had read those verses, I felt a little funny about it.


This synagogue also had stone remains with various decorations on them. The stone pictured here has an imprint of helios, the Roman sun god. This prompted an obvious, and very good, question: What is a decoration of the Roman sun god doing in a Jewish synagogue? The professor proceeded to explain that it is common in many cultures to have decorations that come from their society, and therefore some are of pagan, or at least unbiblical, origin. It seems kind of inconsistent with their sacredly-held religious beliefs, but it happens. It was at this point that I, ever the smart aleck, chimed in, rather loudly, “Hey, my church back home had six Christmas trees in the sanctuary last December.” Nobody laughed.


To round out part one of our June 3rd travels, I show a picture of the Mount of Beatitudes, named obviously for the location of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. I’m afraid the photo does not do it justice, for the Mount of Beatitudes juts out of the Sea of Galilee, forming almost a natural bowl-shaped mountain. This makes for excellent acoustics. In fact, I noticed that from several hundred yards up the mountain, I could hear music and laughter from one of the boats that was near the shore. Being there made it a lot easier to comprehend how Jesus could have addressed thousands of people without the need of a microphone. And, as was so often the case in Israel, being there made me ponder many of the teachings of the Sermon on the Mount. When you think about it, that sermon has a very radical message.

Part 2: Reconstructing the days of your life

Last time I posed this question: If you were able to replay any given day of your life (starting at an age when you are capable of remembering things), would you be able to recall at least one thing that happened on that day? I postulated that I think I’d be able to recall something—at least one thing—from the large majority of the days of my life. However, I did not express rock-solid confidence in this speculation.

Today I want to examine this question from a different angle—not in terms of replaying a day in your life, but rather by taking a distant memory or event and trying to pinpoint the exact day on which it happened. Let’s look at a few examples.

In a recent blog entry, I shared a memory from my early childhood about a day when I forgot to pay for my milk in the cafeteria. My question now is this: Is there any way that I can figure out the day (or even the month) that this episode took place?

I think you can readily see that this is a difficult task. In many cases it would be impossible to determine the exact day on which an event or memory took place. But as I have pondered this whole idea over the past twenty years or so, I have come to the conclusion that many memories and events are possible to reconstruct—even more than I initially thought. Doing so is like doing detective work, and sources such as family and the internet are very helpful.

Let’s look at my “forgot-to-pay-for-my-milk” experience. This is what I know: I know it happened when I was in first grade, so it happened in either 1972 or 1973. And it was a school day, so it happened sometime between Monday and Friday. And that’s about all I can say about it. Suppose, though, that I reminisced about this with my parents, and my mom said something like, “I remember that day very well. You came home from school and told me all about it. I had been sad about Aunt Matilda’s death the previous day, and this cheered me up.” Well, then, in that case, I could do some research and find out the day that Aunt Matilda died. Then, Voila!, I would then have “reconstructed” the exact day that the milk event happened. (I don’t really have an Aunt Matilda, it is just an attention-grabbing name used for illustrative purposes.)

What has fascinated me is that I have been able to combine distant memories with corroborating or verifiable facts and have come up with exact dates of events in my life. I recently did a silly experiment in this regard on the subject of rock concerts that I attended in high school and college. By combining the memories of specific conversations with relatives and specific known events in my life, and with the aid of the internet and my college yearbooks, I was able to pinpoint the exact dates of eight different concerts that I attended. For instance, I saw the Police in concert on August 20, 1983, Billy Joel on February 14, 1984, and the Cars on July 16, 1984. The Billy Joel concert is a good example of what I am talking about. I have a very distinct memory of being at that concert on Valentine’s Day, and I remember it was in my senior year of high school. Joel’s past concert dates are available online, so I was easily able to look it up and verify that my memory was correct.

All this has led me to an ambitious idea, and it is where I will leave this subject for now. I have never kept a diary or journal in my life. But all this pondering has persuaded me that I can reconstruct one to a sizable degree. So over time, as memories come back to me, I do a little digging to see if I can verify exact dates of events. And if I can’t get the exact date, I can sometimes narrow it down to a range of dates, or perhaps a particular month. When I can deduce a date or range of dates, I jot it down. And at some point, when I have the time, I'll transfer all of the notes onto an Outlook calendar, or something like that.

In the meantime, I hope I don’t forget where I put all of those notes!

Remembering the days of your life, Part 1

Imagine if you could board a time machine and go back to any day of your life. It could be ten years ago, it could be twenty-five years ago . . . just any random day. Imagine further that you could re-live that day with yourself, observing from a distance everything that happened to you, from the time that you woke up in the morning until the time you set your tired head upon the pillow at night. You could see once again (but not change!) everything that happened to you on that day.

My question is this: For any given day in your past (starting at about the age of five or six, when the human is capable of remembering things), would there be at least one thing that happened that day that you specifically remember? One specific event? One conversation? One thought? Or, are there days in our lives that contain no specific, discernable memories?

Now, you may or may not have thought about this question before, and you may or may not think it is an interesting one. But, in the spirit of confessing my innermost thoughts on the internet for anyone to see, I will say that this is a question that has fascinated me for at least twenty years. I often find myself pondering whether or not, given the chance to replay, say, April 10, 1974, I would say at least one time, “Ah, yes, I specifically remember that!”

The great thing about hypothetical questions is that everyone can give hypothetical answers, and (at least in situations such as this) nobody is wrong. But having contemplated this question for a few decades now (and, by the way, this is the first time I have ever told anyone about this), here is what I think:

I believe that if I could replay every day of my life, in almost all cases (probably more than 95%), I would indeed be able to recall at least one specific memory from that day—a joke that someone told, something a teacher said, a conversation, a fight with one of my sisters (wait, that never happened!), a baseball game, etc. But I do think that there are a very small percentage of days, most of which would be from my early childhood, where I really could not honestly recall one thing. I think I would certainly recall some “constants” of my life during the time periods in question—the wart on my finger, the dent in the back of the Station Wagon, the way that the dog acted when she needed to be let outside, etc. But I would not necessarily remember a specific memory that happened only on that day.

So in the majority of the “days of my life,” I think I could recall a specific memory. But whenever I start to feel confident about this answer, I begin to wonder if I am wrong. Maybe there are more days than I care to admit that have forever become black holes, where, even if I could see a replay of the whole day, nothing would jump out as memorable. Maybe I would only be able to recall a specific memory from 75% of the days of my life, or maybe 50%. But I rather think that there is more information (including specific memories) packed into our brains than we tend to think, which drives me back to my original conclusion.

Indeed my uncertainty over this is what has led me to ponder it for so long. What do you think? (To be continued . . .)

Just my four cents worth

When I was in kindergarten, or perhaps it was first grade, school lunch cost thirty-five cents. Great deal, huh? With the start of a new school year recently, I found out that lunch at my son’s elementary school is $1.90, and according to him, “it’s not enough food.” Now, this comment did not surprise me at first, since, theoretically speaking, there was never enough food in the known universe for my older son (now in college), and my younger one is catching up rapidly. But upon clarification, I found out that the standard lunch at his school is four items: entrée, milk, and two sides. I can specifically remember that when I was in school, the standard lunch was five items. Higher cost, less food. But of course, isn’t that the case with everything these days?

The conversation got me to thinking about the cost of a single carton of milk. My son told me that it is fifty cents. That doesn’t sound too bad, does it? And maybe it’s not. But hearing this gave me a flashback of an incident that happened to me in the first grade, when I was about six years old.

Back then, I typically brought my lunch to school, and bought milk at the cafeteria. And at the time, milk cost four cents. Four cents! That sounds kind of unbelievable now. Is there anything nowadays that costs four cents? But it’s true. I would bring a nickel to school in my pocket, and go home with a penny’s change.

One day, something happened that scared me to death. It was in the afternoon, and I was in the bathroom washing my hands. I froze in fear as I realized that the nickel was still in my pocket! I had taken a milk at lunchtime, and somehow forgotten to pay for it. I remember looking in the bathroom mirror trying to hold back the tears, almost in panic. What should I do?

Well, I told my teacher that I forgot to pay for my milk, and asked for permission to go back to the cafeteria. When I got there, I sheepishly walked “backstage” to the cooking area (a no-man’s land for students) to find the lunch lady. I can remember that she was surprised to see a student standing there. She asked me what I was doing, and I proceeded, nearly in tears, to tell her what happened. Pulling the nickel out of my pocket, I paid for the milk, and got my penny in change. I do recall a slight grin on the lunch lady’s face, though at the time I did not know why—this was a serious matter! But of course it must have seemed cute to see this little kid in such distress over a four cent milk.

As for me, I just breathed a huge sigh of relief. I had been envisioning the authorities bursting into my classroom to apprehend me when they found out that I was the one who had not paid for his milk. To have made things right and to return to class without the specter of trouble . . . that was a huge burden off of my young shoulders.

So, there is my “Honest Abe” story. It wasn’t a twelve mile trek in the snow to repay a penny to a poor old widow, but hey, nothing is as dramatic as it used to be.

And finally, this little jog down memory lane got me to thinking. With all of this inflation, have you ever noticed that the phrase “just my two cents worth” has never changed over the years? Somehow it has not “gone up in price” like everything else in our economy has. So, in honor of my four cent milk memory, and in recognition that it is time to raise the cost of this saying, and because I fancy myself a cultural trend-setter in inconsequential matters, I am going to start using the expression “just my four cents worth” instead of “two cents worth” in every day conversation. We’ll see if it catches on. Won’t you join me?