by Lynn Austin
Ari appeared startled and a little annoyed. “But I . . .”
“Please, Ari?” Hannah begged.
Ari glanced at Dr. Voss, then called to the milling group, “This way, please. Everyone follow me.” He set off at a brisk pace, and Abby hurried with the rest of the group to keep up with his long-legged stride.
“I wonder why Dr. Voss is so angry,” one of the students said as she walked beside Abby.
“Well, I think his nose is a little out of joint,” Abby replied.
Ari whirled around, frowning. “His nose is what?”
Abby laughed, guessing at the picture in Ari’s mind. “Sorry, it’s just a stupid expression. Dr. Voss didn’t know you had joined the dig, Ari, until I mentioned your name yesterday. He didn’t seem pleased that you were . . . invading his territory.” When Ari didn’t respond, Abby tried making light of it. “You know, Dr. Voss also thinks you’re dead.”
“Dead!”
“Yeah, he said he heard a rumor that Ari Bazak, the young hotshot archaeologist, had died a few years ago. It must have been a terrible shock for him to see your ghost.” She grinned, but Ari didn’t. “I’ve noticed that Dr. Voss is just a wee bit ab-sentminded,” she said. “He’s the one who booked me on a flight that didn’t exist, remember?”
Ari gave Abby a curious look before bringing the group to a halt inside a ruined building. He began addressing the students without further comment. While he may not have been much of a conversationalist, Abby saw right away that he was a gifted teacher. His descriptions brought history to life, and even the travel-weary college students paid rapt attention.
Abby decided that reading about the Crusades in textbooks couldn’t compare with standing beneath their vaulted archways or looking out from their battlements. She wandered through the one-thousand-year-old ruins with a sense of awe, reminding herself that this was only the first day of her month-long tour. Then Ari guided them through the remains of Caesarea, explaining how King Herod’s engineers had created the seaport city more than two thousand years ago. Two thousand years! Abby couldn’t comprehend it. The oldest artifacts she had seen in America were only centuries old, not millennia.
“As a ruler, Herod was a brutal tyrant,” Ari explained to the group. “But as a master planner and builder, he was a daring genius. Israel didn’t have a natural harbor, so he created one here in Caesarea. But his most famous achievement was the complete rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem.”
“Is he the same Herod who was king when Jesus was born?” one of the students asked.
Ari nodded. “Herod was called a king, but he was actually under the authority of Rome.”
Abby snapped several photographs of the Herodian ruins, then followed everyone inside the restored Roman amphitheater and took a seat on the stone bleachers, warmed by the Mediterranean sun. The theater faced the sea, and Abby felt the gentle breeze on her face as she awaited the lecture. Hannah seemed to have soothed Dr. Voss’s temper. They were laughing as the group took seats in front of them. Hannah’s laughter had a joyous, musical sound that reminded Abby of children at play.
“Welcome to the Promised Land,” Hannah began, “the land God chose for His people. We’re sitting beside an ancient travel route—the Via Maris, or Way of the Sea, at the crossroads of three continents—Europe, Africa, and Asia. Unfortunately, the route was also a convenient pathway for invading empires. Egypt, Assyria, Babylon, Greece, Rome . . . all of these armies marched across the land of Israel. Now, why do you suppose God would put His chosen people at a crossroads? Why not a place that was more isolated—maybe an island, like Cyprus? Wouldn’t it have been easier for the Israelites to keep God’s covenant if they lived apart from the other nations? Why expose them to the temptations of pagan religions and cultures?”
She paused, studying the faces in her audience, then smiled when her gaze settled on Abby. “I believe it was because God knew that many trials would help His people grow in their faith. They would learn to depend on Him and discover that He is trustworthy.”
Abby recalled her morning devotions. The testing of your faith develops perseverance . . . so that you may be mature. . . . She stopped taking notes and listened carefully instead.
“God sent His promised Messiah to a land and a people in crisis. In 63 B.C. the nation lost its freedom to one of those invading empires—Rome. But even before Pompeii’s armies swept through the land, the Jewish religious traditions had been contaminated by the pull of pagan Greek culture. The Jews felt their world crashing in on them, and the way of life they had always known was gravely threatened.”
Against her will, Abby recalled the night she had discovered Mark’s affair, the night twenty-two years of marriage came to an end, shattering her life.
“How would God’s people react to this crisis?” Hannah continued. “Would they strike back at their enemies in revenge? Learn to live with them? Or would they pull away, living separate lives from their invaders?”
Abby knew that she had bounced among all three of these reactions during the past few months, becoming bruised and battered in the process.
“These were three of the reactions in Jesus’ day,” Hannah said. “The Zealots chose to fight against the Romans, the Sad-ducees to compromise with them, and the Pharisees to withdraw from them. All three groups eagerly awaited the promised Messiah. They hoped He would rescue them from a life that had grown intolerable. All three groups had expectations of what His coming would mean.
“And then, on a star-filled night during King Herod’s reign, Jesus the Messiah was born.” Hannah smiled as her eyes met Abby’s again. “He offered a solution to the crisis in their lives. But in spite of all the words that the prophets had spoken, the answer Jesus offered was not what any of them wanted—or expected.”
Abby looked away from Hannah’s penetrating gaze, squinting in the glare of sun on water. She wanted her own pain to end, her frightening anger to be extinguished. She wanted the solution to her own crisis to be made clear to her so she could begin all over again—and get on with the rest of her life.
But what if Jesus’ solution wasn’t the answer she wanted—or expected?
* * *
“How long have you been a Christian, Hannah?” Abby asked later that afternoon as they drove to their hotel in Galilee. The group had spent a long day visiting several historic sites, including an ancient Roman aqueduct outside of Caesarea. As they were leaving their last stop of the day, Hannah had surprised Abby by offering her a ride in Ari’s car. Weighing the pros and cons of sitting alone in the safety of the tour bus or risking Ari’s driving again, Abby had decided the risk was well worth the opportunity to talk with Hannah.
“Let’s see . . . I’ve been a Messianic believer for about five years now,” Hannah replied. She turned to face Abby in the backseat. “My daughter, Rachel, became a believer first. And I have to tell you that I was quite upset when she told me about her faith. When a Jew hears the word Christian, we immediately think of the Crusades and the Spanish Inquisition and all the other horrors committed in the name of Christ. We’ve quite forgotten the fact that Jesus was Jewish, as were all of His disciples, the apostle Paul, and most of the earliest Christians.”
“I would have guessed it was much longer than five years,” Abby said. “I’ve been a so-called Christian all my life, but your faith seems so much stronger, more real than mine.”
Hannah fingered the ancient coin she wore on a chain around her neck. “The central belief of the Jewish faith is that God is working to redeem mankind. Once I saw that Jesus already brought about that promised redemption—my redemption—my faith was completed, not altered.”
Abby glimpsed Ari’s face in the rearview mirror and saw by his frown that Hannah’s words made him uncomfortable. Judging by his angry comments in Caesarea about the atrocities committed by the Crusaders, she guessed that he didn’t share Hannah’s beliefs. He had been silent during their drive, but now he interrupted Hannah to ask her a question in Hebrew. Sh
e answered him in the same language. Their discussion grew more and more heated, until Hannah ended it with a shake of her head and a gesture of finality.
“No, Ari. I can’t do that.” Then she turned to face Abby again. “When we reach the top of this hill, you will have your first glimpse of the Sea of Galilee There it is! What do you think?”
Abby caught her breath. Below her the sea resembled a deep blue sapphire, mounted in a setting of gentle green hills. The lake was smaller than she had imagined, but much lovelier.
“I never dreamed it would be so beautiful. For some reason, I always thought of Israel as a desert, but it isn’t at all. No wonder people have been fighting over this land for centuries.”
“Yes, and unfortunately we are still fighting,” Hannah said. “You experienced that for yourself yesterday.”
Abby gathered her courage to ask the question she had been avoiding. “Hannah, about what happened yesterday . . . do you think I’m still a suspect?”
“I can’t imagine that any sensible person would think so! Why?”
“I called home after we talked last night. My house in Indiana was broken into yesterday. Someone robbed it and ransacked the place.”
“Is your family all right?”
“No one was home at the time, but my daughter was pretty upset when she discovered the mess. I should call her again tonight and see how she’s doing. But I’ve been wondering . . . Do you think the two events are related somehow?”
Hannah and Ari exchanged glances. Hannah looked very angry. “I’d like to say no, Abby, but I honestly don’t know. There are radical groups in my country who would easily stoop to such tactics. Israel is still a nation in crisis, just as it was in Jesus’ time. There are people who want to fight and people like Ben who want compromise and peace. . . . You’ll probably hear several other points of view, too, while you’re here. Once again, Jesus offers us the only real solution. And once again, no one is listening.”
Ari mumbled something to Hannah in Hebrew, then they both rode in silence, staring straight ahead.
Abby tried to enjoy the lush scenery as they drove around the lake, passing groves of avocados and bananas, seeing date palm trees for the first time in her life, but she was too upset by Hannah’s answer to appreciate any of it. “I’m wondering if I should go home,” Abby finally said. “The idea of common thieves invading my home is bad enough—but not nearly as alarming as terrorists. My maternal instincts are urging me to get on the next flight to Indianapolis and protect my children.”
“I understand,” Hannah said quietly. “How many children do you have, Abby?”
“Two. Gregory is twenty, a college student, and Emily is eighteen. She’ll be starting college this fall.”
“You don’t look nearly old enough to have a grown son!” Hannah said. “You must have been a child bride!”
“Thanks, but at forty-two, I’m certainly old enough. We . . . that is, my hus . . .” Abby drew a breath and started again. “The children were born right after I was married. I wanted it that way. I loved staying home and being a mother. Eleven years ago, after Emily started first grade, I hardly knew what to do with myself. Both of my kids have always been quite independent and self-sufficient. So I applied for a teaching position and I’ve been mothering entire rooms full of children ever since. I love teaching.”
“Is this the first time you’ve been so far away from your children?” Hannah asked.
“Well, they’ve been gone from home for summer camp and school trips and things like that—and, of course, Greg has lived on campus for the past two years—but I’ve never left them for so long before now. We’ve always traveled together, as a family.”
“Are there other family members living close by who could look in on your children?”
“Both sets of grandparents are within driving distance, and their father is nearby, of course. . . .”
Hannah nodded. “Then if I were you, I would talk to your children again and see how things look today before making any hasty decisions. You did say they were independent and self-sufficient, didn’t you?”
“Yes. And in spite of everything, Mark was . . . is a good father.” She had a sudden memory of Mark sprawled on the farmhouse floor with Emily and Greg, building Lego creations and drinking imaginary cups of tea, reading storybooks and playing checkers. She shook her head. How could she reconcile that image with the man who had walked out of their life?
“Next time you talk to your children,” Hannah said, bringing Abby back, “tell them that if they lived in Israel they would have to serve in the military right after high school—your daughter for two years and your son for three.”
“Really? That must be tough on them.”
“It grows them up in a hurry.”
As they pulled into the hotel parking lot, Ari’s eyes met Abby’s in the rearview mirror. “I have a laptop computer,” he said quietly. “You are welcome to use it while you are here if you want to contact your family by email. Telephone calls can be very expensive.”
She felt a small measure of relief. “Thank you. That’s a wonderful idea. We do have email.”
Abby was pleasantly surprised to discover that the Golani Hotel, where they would be staying during the dig, was a plush resort. It perched on a hillside on the eastern shore of the lake, with a view of rolling green farmland and the Sea of Galilee in the distance. The expedition members would be housed in private bungalows that had a pair of rooms in each one. A separate building housed the sprawling hotel, dining room, and gift shop. Signs directed guests to the swimming pool and tennis courts.
“Wow, I had no idea it would be this luxurious,” Abby said. “Are we allowed to use all these facilities?”
“Yes, but don’t be surprised if you are too worn out after a day of digging to take advantage of them,” Hannah said. Her bungalow was the first one in the row, with Ted and Ramona Voss’s room next door. Abby’s was farther down the path with Ari’s room adjoining it.
He glanced at his watch as she unlocked her door. “Give me fifteen minutes and I will have the computer ready to send your email message.”
Ari sat outside on the front step while Abby typed a long letter to Emily. After apologizing to her daughter for hanging up last night, Abby described her flight, her impressions of Israel, and as many of today’s sights as she could remember. Once again she decided not to mention Benjamin Rosen’s death. The idea of terrorists still disturbed her, so she added a postscript: If you want your father to stay with you for a few more nights, it’s all right with me.
“I’m ready to send this,” she called to Ari when she finished. He pushed a few buttons and her message disappeared into cyberspace. “Thank you so much, Ari.”
“It’s time for dinner,” he said. “I will show you the way.”
Abby hoped she wouldn’t have to eat with him. His abruptness made her uncomfortable. So did trying to converse with him as they walked up the flowered path to the dining room.
“I want to thank you and your wife again for the clothes,” she said. “Will I have a chance to meet her? Will she be joining you here this summer?”
“No.”
He didn’t seem to mind the strained silence that followed, but Abby did. “Listen, I meant to ask . . . is there something I should be doing to help retrieve my lost luggage?”
“I took care of it.”
“Thank you. I haven’t flown much—and never overseas like this. How long does it usually take for them to find lost baggage?”
“A few days.”
“Umm . . . did that horrible man, Agent Shur, say anything more about questioning me?”
Ari shook his head.
The walk back to the bungalow with Hannah after dinner was much more pleasant than the walk with Ari. “I recommend you get a good night’s sleep tonight,” Hannah said. “Morning will come very early tomorrow.”
“I’m so excited about my first day of digging, I may not be able to sleep!”
Hannah
laughed. “I hope Dr. Voss warned all of his volunteers that real archaeology isn’t like Hollywood. What is that popular movie series called?”
“You mean Indiana Jones?”
“Yes, that’s the one. Real digs aren’t nearly that glamorous. They’re mostly a lot of hard work in the hot sun, moving a ton or two of dirt.”
“You mean I’m not going to find the lost Ark of the Covenant?” Abby said, laughing.
“Don’t we both wish!”
“Oh well, I don’t mind. It’s thrilling just to be here.” Hannah’s arm circled Abby’s shoulder for a quick hug. “Good night, Hannah.”
“Good night, dear.”
CHAPTER 4
THE GOLANI HOTEL, ISRAEL—1999
Abby’s room was dark when the telephone rang. She bolted out of bed, her heart pounding. The digital clock read 4:00 A.M. It was her wake-up call.
“Have mercy!” she said, groaning. It felt like the middle of the night! She dressed sluggishly, then applied a thick layer of sunscreen, found her hat and her water bottles, and stumbled down the path to the dining hall for a quick cup of coffee.
She was still yawning and trying to rub the sleep from her eyes as she walked to the rented vans that would transport them to the dig site. Hannah was there already, looking wide awake as she instructed the drivers and ironed out last-minute details with Dr. Voss. When she saw Abby, she limped over to greet her.
“You look like you want to crawl back into bed,” Hannah said, laughing.
“I do. I’ve never started work this early in my life.”
“You’ll understand why we do once you feel how hot it gets by quitting time. But God gives you two rewards for rising so early. Look up, Abby . . . there’s your first one.”
Abby tilted her head, looking at the sky for the first time since crawling out of bed. Billions of stars studded the black velvet expanse, with the shimmering blaze of the Milky Way cutting a swath across the middle. The sight took her breath away.