II. Towards Hebron!
Oh what memories are connected to the name of this old and famous city of kings and descendants of Levi! Located just twenty miles south of Jerusalem, Hebron may be the oldest city in the Promised Land. It existed three thousand years before the birth of Christ. According to the traditional teachings of the Middle Ages, it is in this vicinity where God created Adam.
Seventeen miles southwest of Jerusalem, there’s the city of Kirjath-arba, where mythical giants once lived. Later, Hebron was the capitol city of the Hittites, whose princes resided there. After the Children of Israel’s conquest of Canaan, the city fell to the Family of Caleb. Later, King David spent the first seven years of his reign here. At the city gates, David’s General Joab murdered Abner, the Commander-in-Chief of King Saul’s army. Upon David’s orders, it was here that the men who assassinated Saul’s son Ishbosheth were hung. From Hebron, Absalom launched the rebellion against his father, King David. During the Israelites’ captivity in Babylon, the city fell into the hands of the Edomites, Esau’s people—which Judas Maccabaeus drove out. The Romans destroyed the city and sold its inhabitants into slavery. The Crusaders made Hebron their Bishop-City. It has also become ever more holy to Muslims, because it was the dwelling place of the Patriarchs. In the past, Abraham lived there, and Jacob’s caravan to Egypt began at Hebron. The Muslims call Abraham the friend of merciful compassion; from this title, Hebron received its current Arabic name, El Chalil.
So, Hebron is highly revered—but unfortunately, the city is not friendly toward strangers, particularly Christians. In the entire land, Hebron’s population is the most bigoted. There are approximately nine thousand Muslims and five hundred Jews, who in fact want to earn as much money as possible from a Christian—yet they consider him to be inferior and even an unclean enemy whose mere touch can make them dirty. Through Hebron’s lanes, a Christian pedestrian gets along OK if he tries very hard to avoid looking into the eyes of “the true believers.” Otherwise, trouble can easily happen. At the least, youth who follow him will not just shout out curse words—they will also throw solid objects. The most pronounced expression of this hostile relationship is evident in the fact that Hebron’s inns are not open to Christians—even though the city’s well-traveled roadway connects to Jerusalem. Today, it may be different; it was in the year 1900 when I last visited Hebron.
In light of Christians’ common veneration of the patriarch Abraham, Europeans visit this city of historical names—in spite of its unfriendly population. When his wife Sarah died, Abraham purchased the double burial cave called Machpela; the Hittite Ephron sold him this grave site. Thus in a burial chamber, she was transformed. Some say that the following famous six are entombed here: Abraham. Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, and Leah. Among the Greek-speaking Jews, some say that the Byzantine Emperor Justinian lies here. Above this spot, a church was once established—which the Muslims converted into a mosque; unfortunately, Christians are not allowed to visit this site. Christians are only permitted to come near the outer perimeter of this shrine. In order to go beyond that limit, one must be a high-level, princely person—especially one that holds a firman, a royal decree from the Ottoman Empire. In this same region, upon Der el Arba’in, one finds the grave of Jesse, King David’s father. A half hour from the city stands Abraham’s Well, where some claim that this is the scene where once the Oaks of Mamre stood. [ Mamre was the Amorite chief who gave his name to the plain where Abraham dwelt, Genesis 23: 19.] Almost every place in the surrounding area is intertwined with some memory of the patriarchs. So for this reason, it was also a desire of mine to visit Hebron as often as I was in Jerusalem. So it is now. (Photo, 148 KB-Jpg. The Apostles’ fountain: on the road between Jerusalem and Bethany, which tradition says is the place where Jesus rested with his disciples.)
At exactly 7 o’clock the next morning, a comfortable, fully covered four-passenger carriage arrived at our door. Therein, sat Mustafa Bustani and Thar. When my wife saw them, she said: “So, he’s allowed to come after all.” I too was pleased about this. The boy sprang out of the carriage. He was festively dressed: golden shoes, white stockings, white pants, and a white Bedouin-shirt with a red vest that had Hungarian Hussar gold-braided cords. Upon his head sat a red fez, to which a white, silken neck-scarf was fastened. Today, the boy looked exceptionally distinguished. “We are here. Father bids you to come,” said Thar. His voice had an official and powerful ring to it. In a softer and more confidential tone, he officially put forth this question: “Yesterday evening, did you also think that I would receive a good thrashing? No? I’ve thought a great deal about it. I wish that he had whipped me.” For a moment, he pondered over this—then he repeated these words: “Yes, yes, I wanted it that way!”
“Why?”
“If the beating were over, my father would no longer be angry and sad. It would no longer be painful for me either. As long as I have to await punishment, even as I do right now, he still has the sad eyes—and that causes me twice the pain.” I wanted to know the reason: “In what way is it doubled?”
“ First, I’ll tell you about his eyes, then secondly about the thrashing which is yet to come. Due to the fact that the punishment usually never happens, I ceaselessly and hopelessly feel this way in advance. So today, it will perhaps be the same. Since yesterday evening, his sad eyes have hurt me. Mostly, he doesn’t say a word—not a single thing. Early today, he personally woke me up and helped me get dressed. When he stood so silently in my room, I could no longer bear it; I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, begging him to punish me—soundly and vigorously. He just gently smiled and shook his head. Do you think he is doing the right thing?”
I gave him this advice: “At all times, what your father does is the right thing. You must come to understand this.” Thar questioned me: “Even when I regard his actions as wrong?” Here was my reply: “Then too! When you grow older, just as he is now, you will have an experience that will convince you that he was right. Oh well, come on! Your father is always so punctual—we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”