it is just plain beautiful. Not as large as one might think, but nestled in the hills, with the Jordan coming in one end, and going out through another.
No wonder Jesus hung out here. It's gorgeous. And now, its clearly a resort area. A place where people come to relax, to get away, to swim, to eat, to fish.
Understandable.
So, in Israel, land of many cultural contradictions, we go to a kibbutz. There we will embark on a boat trip to Tiberias. Down to the dock--and there, anchored, are replicas of first century boats. They are dubbed "the Jesus boats". OK. The first one is almost full, but we don't try to board it,, because its just going on a tourist view trip around the lake. We will wait for the next boat--the boat to Tiberius. We get on that one--so far, the only passengers. We wait. And wait. Evidentally the kibbutz boat system does not operate on a time schedule, but on capacity. The tour boat fills. We remain, a lonely three travelers to Tiberias. I am succumbing to the power of the water, and dozing on the bow of the boat, when the tour boat leaves the dock, loudly blasting "The Star Spangled Banner". I sit up, and watch the boat sail out into Galilee, hoisting the American Flag, and broadcasting the national anthem.
I soon find out that this is not an exhibition of solidarity with our country, because a large bus shows up with other travelers to Tiberias. This is a British group, and we soon set sail to the tune of "God Save the Queen" and the Union Jack--followed, for three of their members by the Irish flag and anthem.a Then, two people from the Isle of Man performed their patriotic duty. Curious, I walked up front to find, beneath the captain's wheel, a large segmented bin with the flags of every possible nation, and a rack of CD's with presumably enough national anthems to serve the Olympics.
In the middle of the lake (sea is really an exaggeration!) the Vicar accompanying the tour group asks for the motor to stop, and for us to silently contemplate as he has two people read appropriate scripture. In the middle of the reading, a loud vroooom, vrooom, comes and a launch approaches, ready to aid us--or find out why we've stopped. One is never sure in this age of uber-security.
Its much like life--take a few moments for prayer or contemplation, and people want to know "what's wrong?"
It seems to have broken the mood for the Brits, too. They discuss the snow on Mount Hebron, a couple get on the prow to re-enact the "Titanic--King of the World" pose, and they start to laugh and argue over the flags--whose is bigger.
We disembark, and walk past the resort amenities to check in at the hotel. Its too cold--but if i were here later, would I try water skiing, or banana boating?
Riding a banana on the Sea of Galilee. A strange concept. One I can't quite get past in my mind.
And then I think--The sea was probably used for a great many things--food, drink, washing--and children playing. Even adults might have enjoyed a cooling splash .
Maybe banana boats aren't so strange, after all.
