JERUSALEM — IN 73 A.D., the first day of Passover, 1,000 Judaic Zealots fell on their swords rather than allow enslavement by Roman enemies. High above the Dead Sea, in the Judean desert near a town called Sodom, this mountain is called Masada. Almost 2,000 years later, Masada is called Israel’s most visited attraction. Sunday night, it also became Israel’s most crammed venue.
Transformed into a kind of Salzburg festival, it was 7,600 people outdoors at $300 a ticket down to $200 for those whose seats were as far away as Salzburg. Eight shows in 10 days. Opera director Hanna Munitz brought Verdi’s “Aida” to Masada. There were 300 performers, besides musicians, onstage.
The nighttime spectacle began after the desert heat and wind died down. A parking lot of busses transported cast, crew, props, scenery, instruments, wardrobe, lights. Also sofas, chairs, tables, food, drink, Porta-Potties for a VIP reception. Its Tel Aviv chairman Dafna Meitar-Nechmad, a part-time New Yorker, said: “We will show what Israeli women can do.”
What they showed was heart-stopping. Beginning 10 p.m., it lasted 3½ hours. The Six-Day War was shorter.
It is one of the many views of this country’s survival in its continuum of crisis.
TAKE the Sea of Galilee. Two thousand years ago Jesus walked on the water. Today tourists from the world over jet-ski in it.
The Bible mentions the Dead Sea, lowest spot on Earth. Today, glossy hotels ring its beach. The equivalent of a red carpet festooned with side handrails leads you into that warm water. You cannot swim, only float. Its bed is lined with marble-size balls of coarse table salt.
There’s ancient Hebrew writing of the Book of Isaiah, on the hair side of animal skins not parchment, sewn together with leather, dating to 520 B.C. In 1947, a young Bedouin shepherd, herding a stray goat, discovered these scrolls in a dry Qumran cave. A barren terrace between limestone cliffs. Wrapped in reeds inside clay pots. Once inhabited by the Essene sect, this wilderness area with no humidity now accommodates long lines to view the former home of the Dead Sea Scrolls. And its surrounding terrain? Today it’s miles of acres of bananas.
Acacia trees. They produced wood for the Ark of the Covenant, which Moses carried through the desert. Around them now stand cars, drivers, air-conditioned shiny motor coaches.
SIGHTSEEING brought me to Cana, where Jesus performed his first mir acle. Turning water into wine. The church built over a holy site fronts a gift shop that sells wine and copies of the clay pots mentioned in the Book of John.
The Church of the Annunciation marks where it all began. Where the Angel informed Mary she would bear a son. A Filipino was working his iPad under signs that said “The Shrine of Our Lord’s First Miracle” and “Please Silence.”
ENTERING the Mount of the Beati tudes area costs about $5. Where Jesus spoke the Lord’s Prayer. While someone read aloud from the Sermon on the Mount, a European lady chewed gum. Where He supposedly pronounced the Beatitudes or Blessings there is a soft drink stand. The neighboring gift shop accepts only US dollars, not local shekels. Israel exports its brains and imports American dollars.
I have visited Israel dozens of times. My husband was instrumental in the sell ing of hundreds of millions of dollars of early days Israel bonds. Comedian Joey Adams was received by Prime Minister Golda Meir, honored by Prime Minister Ben-Gurion, greeted by Prime Minister Menachem Begin. We brought people who were major givers.
The infant country was harsh. Rationing. Little food. Little water. No proper place to stay. These were working trips.
MY last visit here, everything was dif ferent. It was Year 2000. When the Millennium came in, the world fig ured computers would crash. I flew over to Israel — where Time began — and arrived for New Year’s Eve. That was on a Friday. Shabbat. Sabbath.
Conservative Jerusalem was closed. I drove to swinging Tel Aviv. All night the ladies in high heels and low necklines and good-looking young guys ate, drank, danced in discos, walked the beach and in some cases made the opening moves of love. The country had changed.
EVERYBODY worried I was coming to Israel. They all asked why must you go. They said it isn’t safe. You want to travel, go to the Bahamas. So maybe I was a little bit edgy, but I wanted to see how this country was doing in the midst of turmoil. The surprise is, one has such a feeling of safety here. You can walk alone on the street at night. Parents let their children go to school by themselves. You see no presence of police or soldiers. There are no panhandlers, no bums on the street, no homeless. I suppose nogoodniks skulk around but you don’t see them.
TODAY this land has its act together. Excellent food, beautiful people, an archaeological candy store, shops . . . and hope.