Chapter 12

My flight arrived in Tel Aviv Friday afternoon in time to catch the last bus to Jerusalem before the beginning of Sabbath. Jennifer’s directions were perfect. The Christian hospice was just inside the Jaffa Gate in the Old City. After I registered and took a shower, I had an hour before I would meet Jennifer for dinner.
    The Old City, walled for defense by the crusaders, was different from the modern part of Jerusalem. Its narrow streets formed a labyrinth shaded from light by buildings joined one to the next. I saw an Arab in traditional robes leading a donkey, and realized that some things had changed little in 2,000 years. I browsed the stalls of the souk on cramped David Street and bought souvenirs for Rob and Karen.
    As soon as I walked into the dinning room at the hospice, I saw Jennifer seated with Margaret and Elizabeth at a table near the front. Jennifer insisted I accompany them the next day as they toured the Old City.
    On Saturday, the Old City was jammed with Christian tour groups, and Jews on their way to Sabbath worship. The women and I observed the ceremonies at the Western Wall, toured the Dome of the Rock, the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, and walked the Via Delarosa. Nothing happened, and I thought I might have a better chance producing another call experience if I were alone.
    Saturday afternoon, I went to the Mount of Olives. Later, I walked the entire length of the wall surrounding the Old City. I returned to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in the hope that might induce the experience. Again, nothing. After dinner, I told Jennifer I was going to try Galilee on Sunday.
    “Don’t give up on Jerusalem so quickly, Paul. Go with us tomorrow morning to the Israel Museum. You can always head for Galilee in the afternoon if nothing develops.”

Sunday we visited the Knesset, and then walked over to the Israel Museum. After touring the main building, I told Jennifer that I was going to Galilee.
    “Paul, you can’t leave without seeing the Shrine of the Book where they house the Dead Sea Scrolls.”
    “Scholars can’t even agree on who wrote the scrolls much less on their significance. Anyway, a bunch of dusty 2,000-year-old manuscripts certainly won’t help me.”
    “Don’t be so grumpy. It won’t take long to see the exhibit, and then we’ll have lunch. Maybe you’ll be more agreeable after you’ve had something to eat.”
    As the women and I examined the centerpiece exhibit—the Isaiah scroll—we overheard a man and a woman discussing the beliefs of the monks who were thought to have written the scrolls.
    The woman said, “The Qumran monks believed in a world divided into Sons of Light and Sons of Darkness.
    The man said, “An idea they got from the Zoroastrians, no doubt.”
    The woman said, “They also believed in a strange kind of predestination.”
    The man said, “Pre-Christian Gnosticism, perhaps?”
    “There are definite Gnostic elements, but the Qumran monks’ idea of predestination was different. They called themselves the ‘true remnant.’ You can find the idea in Isaiah 10:22, ‘Though your people, Israel, be as the sand of the Sea, yet only a remnant shall return.’”
    The man said, “Rather obscure, don’t you think?”
    “Except that in Romans 9:27, Paul quotes this passage from Isaiah and gives it an interesting twist: ‘Though the number of the children of Israel be as the sand by the sea, only the remnant will be saved.’ Both Saint Paul and Isaiahseem to suggest that admission to the Kingdom of God is not by physical, but by spiritual inheritance.”
    The man said, “Doesn’t mean anything. The apostle Paul was preaching to the Gentiles, trying to broaden the Christian membership base.”
    The woman ignored the man’s cynicism. “In Romans 11: 5-7, Paul fused the idea of the remnant with the idea of a privileged few: ‘There is a remnant chosen by grace. And if by grace, then it is not by works. What Israel sought it did not obtain but the elect did obtain it.”
    “So they thought they were the elect. Big deal.”
    The woman quoted, “Isaiah 11:11-12, ‘In that day the Lord will recover the remnant of his people…and gather the outcasts of Israel.’”
    “So what?”
    The woman didn’t miss a beat. “There are other references to the remnant as an elect: Jeremiah 31:7, ‘O Lord, save thy people, the remnant of Israel,’ and 42:2, ‘Though we were once many, now only a remnant remains.’ And Micah 2:12, ‘I will surely gather the remnant of Israel,’ and 5:8, ‘The remnant of Jacob shall be in the midst of many people.’”
    None of this may have meant anything to the woman’s companion, but it was an earful for me. I turned to Jennifer. “You could interpret the two triangles in the hexagram this way. In one, the elect gather into a remnant amidst the many of the scattering world.”
    Jennifer said, “Margaret, Elizabeth, and I are going to stop at Qumran this afternoon before we go to En Gedi.”
    I said, “Let’s go.”

Only twelve miles separate Jerusalem and Khirbet Qumran, but they are twelve of the bleakest miles on earth. The road drops 3,800 feet from Jerusalem’s heights to the lowest dry land on the earth’s surface—the shores of the Dead Sea—1,300 feet below sea level.
    There is nothing at Qumran but the monastery ruins and a restaurant operated by a kibbutz. Although it was February, the temperature was well over one hundred degrees. The ground was as parched as a piece of brown chalk. Behind the ruin were cliffs where some of the scrolls were found by an Arab shepherd in 1947. The monastery itself sat on a bluff overlooking a sea so salty nothing could live in it.
    Jennifer, Margaret, Elizabeth, and I tagged along within earshot of a tourist group. The guide said, “In this forbidding place, during the reign of King Herod, a Jewish sect waited for the end of the world which they believed was near. They called themselves the true remnant of Israel, and believed they alone deserved to be called chosen…the elect of God…the Sons of Light.
    “While they waited for the final battle between themselves and an evil world, they shared their possessions in common. Each day, they followed a strict routine of work, ritual baths, and prayer. They copied the Bible and other manuscripts onto leather, copper, parchment, and papyrus scrolls, and put them in pottery jars which they stored in caves.” The guide waved his hand toward the cliffs.
    One of the tourists asked him, “Was Jesus ever one of the monks?”

Chapter 12 continued