Again, Mark 8:27, “And Jesus went out, and His disciples, into the towns of Caesarea Philippi, and by the way He asked His disciples saying: ‘Whom do men say that I am?’” From this we see that Caesarea Philippi was a district containing more towns than one. True, this was the principal city of the district, but no man has the moral right to select a certain town and say, “This is the place.” Nor do I care to know the precise spot. It is enough for me to know that Peter said: “Thou art the Christ.” Jesus replied: “Thou art Petra (a rock), and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” There is no passage in all the Bible that is so much discussed as this one, for this scripture is claimed as the foundation of the Romish Church. True, the “gates of hell” have not prevailed against “papal power,” but the power of God will prevail against it, and the world shall yet know that Christ, and not Peter, is the chief “corner stone;” that Christ, and not Mary, is the sinner’s Savior.
One hour from Banias brings us to the fountain of the Jordan—the birth place of the sacred river. The spring is large, the water deep and beautifully clear. We could not resist the temptation; we had to bathe in the “fountain of the gods.” We could count the pebbles in the bottom of the swiftly flowing stream. With our eyes we could follow its windings through the fertile valley, by noticing the flowers and green bushes fringing its banks. Near this fountain we rode close upon a herd of buffaloes before they saw us. There were twelve in the bunch and a dozen of them got away—we killed the others.
We now cross into Galilee. High on the hill, and before us, as we face the west, is the city of Dan. O Dan, what a history thou hast had! What memories gather around thy ancient, thy venerable head! As thy name indicates, thou wast once a judge. Thy sons were born to positions of honor. But Ichabod!—“thy glory has departed!” Thou art no longer a sightly city, but a ruined and disheveled village. Thou no longer rulest, but art now thyself ruled with a rod of iron.
“There is the moral of all human tales;
’Tis but the same rehearsed of the past,
First Freedom, and then glory—when that fails,
Wealth, vice, corruption—barbarism at last!”
In olden times Dan was an important place—the most important city in north Galilee. We often see the expression, “from Dan to Beersheba,” which means from the extreme north to the extreme south of Palestine, a distance of one hundred and sixty-five miles. “From Dan to Beersheba” meant to Jews of old just what “from Maine to Mexico” and “from New York to San Francisco” means to Americans—the uttermost limits of the country.
I give in the following lines an account of a nocturnal visit that Abraham, the father of the faithful, made to this city of Dan. “And when Abram heard that his brother was taken captive, he armed his trained servants, born in his own house, three hundred and eighteen, and he pursued them unto Dan. And he divided himself against them, he and his servants by night, and smote them, and pursued into Hobah, which is on the left hand of Damascus. And he brought back all the goods, and also his brother Lot and his goods, and the women also and the people.”
Coming into Galilee, we find ourselves at once in a beautiful valley lying between two mountain ridges running north and south. The valley is apparently ten miles wide and fifteen to eighteen miles long. The soil is as black as a crow and fertile as the alluvial deposits of the Nile. It is so rich that it looks as if it would sprout a shadow—I am afraid to stand still long in a place. Only small patches of this fertile valley are cultivated and these in the most primitive and imperfect manner. The land is scratched over with wooden plows, drawn, as I have sometimes seen, by a donkey and a skeleton of a milk cow yoked together, or by a camel and an ox harnessed side by side. Thus they tickle the soil which in turn smiles with a sickly, sentimental harvest, and the people live in filth, penury, and poverty; whereas, if they had western vim and push and shove and energy, if they had improved implements of agriculture and would send them deep into the ground and turn up the soil, “the desert would blossom as the rose,” and these trifling sons of want would soon have to “pull down their old barns and build greater ones.” Peace and plenty would usurp the place now held by pinching poverty, and Jerusalem once more would stand
“Girt by her theatre of hills, and would reap
Her corn, and wine, and oil; and plenty would leap
To laughing life, with her redundant horn.”
Here and there, scattered over the plain, we see a Bedouin village. Village did I say? Yes, a village; though there is not a log or a plank, or a board, or a shingle, or a stone to be seen. One of these villages consists of 300 to 500 Bedouins, living in 75 to 100 tents huddled together without law or order. The Bedouins take the bark of the papyrus plant and plait or weave it (by hand of course) into a coarse, rough matting with which they make their houses. The same material serves as roof, walls and floor. These sons of the desert hide their nakedness with robes made of camel’s hair, and their children dress as did Adam or Eve before fig-leaf dresses came into fashion.
In the southern part of the valley is Lake Huleh, or the waters of Merom. Some years ago the plain surrounding this lake was a bloody battle field. Six or eight kings “went out, they and all their hosts with them, much people, even as the sand that is upon the sea shore in multitude, with horses and chariots very many. And when all these kings were met together, they came and pitched their tents at the waters of Merom to fight against Israel. And the Lord said unto Joshua, be not afraid because of them; for to-morrow I will deliver them up all slain before Israel; thou shalt hough their horses and burn their chariots with fire. So Joshua came, and all the people of war with him, against them by the waters of Merom suddenly and they fell upon them. And the Lord delivered them into the hand of Israel.” Lest some people should suppose that I witnessed that battle, I will state that Joshua lived some 1400 years before Christ.