Masada: A Story of Desperation and Death Before Dishonor

One of the most fascinating places we went to in Israel is the Desert fortress Masada, located about 20 km east of Arad overlooking the Dead Sea. Statistically it is one of Israel’s most popular tourist attractions, and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site based on its historical value. It is striking in both its location and its history.

Built by Herod the Great from 37-32 BCE, this remote palace and fortress seems like it would be impregnable. After visiting Israel, one of my most vivid impressions is connected to why the king known for his vindictive paranoia was called “the Great”. But when you take into account all that Herod built and accomplished, I’d have to say he may have been the third greatest King of Israel, after David and Solomon. Certainly his legacy as a builder was unrivaled except perhaps by Solomon. He is famous for the grand scale of the Second Temple, but he also built extensively in Jerusalem and in Judea. He built the port of Caesarea Maritima using huge innovative concrete blocks to create a harbor. He also built the pagan city of Sebaste and eleven remote fortresses such as Masada, Herodium, Alexandra, and Hyrcanium. Each fortress contained a palace where Herod and his family could escape if there was a revolt against him, and contained living quarters, storehouses, bath houses and all the amenities. He died in about 4 BCE, and some of his projects (like the Temple) were finished after his death. His accomplishments as a builder were impressive, and Masada is still an impressive testimony to that.

During the Jewish rebellion against Roman occupation that led to the destruction of Jerusalem in 70AD, a group of Jewish zealots took Masada in 66 AD and slaughtered the Roman garrison there. It was one of the earliest acts of rebellion by the zealots and the beginning of several years of Judean revolt against Rome. The 900 some-odd defenders held Masada for six years, even as Jerusalem was besieged and laid waste. The rebels were able to live on Masada because of the huge cisterns used to catch rainwater during the infrequent storms. We had the opportunity to go down into one of the cisterns, and the sheer scale of it may give you some idea of how well Masada was built and how uniquely it was provisioned to support a group determined to stay in the fortress.

The Romans, busy destroying Jerusalem, were for awhile content to build a wall around the base of the mountain to keep any rebels from escaping. Remnants of their wall and encampments are still visible from above.

But Rome did not preserve its Empire by tolerating rebellion. In 72 AD they laid siege to Masada and over a few months built an earthwork ramp with a gradual grade to take a battering ram to the wall. In the Spring of 73 they completed the access and took as many as 15,000 men to go in against the 960 defenders. The ramp they built is still visible from atop Masada today:

I can’t imagine hating someone so much and being so ruthless that you would commit vast resources and troops to kill men, women and children you had already trapped and contained, but that’s how Rome did business. Imagine being in Masada with your families, watching the hated Romans get closer to your position every day. Imagine feeling hope slip away, and of coming to grips with the certainty that not only were your going to die (which may have at least provided some honor to the men), but you knew your wives and daughters would be brutalized and raped; your children, if spared, would know only a hard life of servitude and slavery. Imagine facing the inevitable, and having to make choices based on those incredibly limited options. When they breached the wall, the Romans found only two women and 5 children alive. Everyone else on the mountain was dead. The women then told how the men, led by Elazar, drew lots to see which of them would perform the ultimate service by killing the others and thus spare them the brutality of rape, torture, and enslavement to the Romans.

Elazar, in his final speech to his fellow zealots, said this: “Since we long ago resolved never to be servants to the Romans, nor to any other than to God Himself, Who alone is the true and just Lord of mankind, the time is now come that obliges us to make that resolution true in practice… We were the very first that revolted, and we are the last to fight against them; and I cannot but esteem it as a favor that God has granted us, that it is still in our power to die bravely, and in a state of freedom.” The men of Masada exercised their courage to protect their families in the only way they could imagine, and removed them from harm’s way by making the ultimate sacrifice.

Paul may have displayed a bit of that same spirit when he said in Galatians 5:1, “Stand fast, therefore in the liberty with which Christ has made you free, and be not entangled again with the yolk of bondage.” He was talking about being totally committed to freedom in Christ instead of walking in legalism, but his intensity of commitment is the same, and he is exhorting us to exercise Grace with the same sense of desperate devotion later shown by the rebels. When it comes to sin, don’t give in.

I will remember Masada, with its palace and its dusty walls and its deep cisterns; but I will also remember the rebels who died there, proud and free, honor intact.

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Matthew 26:36 “Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, “Sit here in the garden while I go over there and pray.” 37 He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. 38 Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”
39 Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

When people know that I just got back from Israel, they always ask, “What was your favorite place?” And because we experienced so much in such a short time, that is really a tough question to answer. We saw a synagogue in Magdala where Jesus may have preached; we sailed upon the Sea of Galilee. We explored Masada, with its grim legacy of freedom. We floated on the Dead Sea. We visited the Holocaust Museum. We saw Oskar Schindler’s gravesite, and sat on the hillside where Jesus may have preached the Beatitudes. We were at the Syrian border, standing in trenches just down from the UN observers. We saw the lush water garden at Dan, and dipped our toes in the Oasis of Ein-Gedi, where David hid from Saul…

We visited the Israel Museum, went to a laser light show one night at the Tower of David, and we prayed at the wailing wall. We got baptized in the Jordan River, and we went inside the empty Garden Tomb. As I recounted in an earlier blog, we had life-changing encounters at the Holocaust Museum and at Rachel Bluwstein’s grave. We saw Holy sites within ornate churches and walked the Via Dolorosa. We even saw Prince William from a distance of about 15 feet!

We saw all of those things and more, and experienced everything from tourist fare to Holy ground. But my favorite place was perhaps one of the quietest and least ornate. We went into the Hermitage next to the Garden of Gethsemane and spent an hour reflecting on the betrayal of Jesus, and on his garden prayer. As we looked out from the Mount of Olives to the Old City, we wondered how his best friends could not pray with him for even one hour. How could they have DONE that on such a night?! Peter, James and John swore to be loyal to Jesus and yet they left him alone in his most difficult trial. They could have been connected to Jesus, but they lost their focus and did their own thing. They allowed something merely physical to disrupt a unique opportunity to be spiritual there in the garden…

Guess what? We all do that every day. Before we judge the disciples too harshly, try to pray for an hour before you fall asleep on any normal day. Try to live spiritually when you are tired or hungry or impatient. Try to put Jesus first.

Two things: don’t forget that when he was all alone in the Garden, Jesus prayed for you and me. He thought about us, and in John 17:20 He asked His Father to give us unity and security in Him. Tonight before you fall asleep, claim that.

Second, take a moment and reflect on how often we forsake Jesus for something physical. To me, the amazing thing about the garden was that even on the night he was betrayed, he: Never. Betrayed. Us. Spend a moment to read his prayer in John 17 and see if it doesn’t inspire you to want to pray like he did. As I sat there overlooking the Old City, I rediscovered how far I fall short, how selfish and unspiritual I am, and how grateful I am for a Savior who completed his mission no matter what.

Where, Lord, in Gethsemane did you lay down and pray?
Where did Judas lead the guards to come take you away?
We know that in 2000 years no man has found it yet,
The place you prayed in agony, with tears and blood and sweat…
I’m sitting on the Mt of Olives, looking at the Dome,
Feeling like a pilgrim who will soon be going home. Just like John and Peter in the garden, I regret
The many times I fail to pray with you, or just forget–
Knowing that you sat near here the night you were betrayed,
Alone because not even one of your disciples stayed…
Jesus help me in my weakness pray the way you prayed.

It may seem somewhat incongruous to take some time on vacation and visit a memorial commemorating six million murders, but after doing so I think it may be almost impossible to understand Israel without going to the Holocaust Museum in Jerusalem. It is a sobering experience.

I was pretty familiar with the details of the Holocaust. I had read stories and books about it, and I have seen pictures of its horrors. To be honest, I felt like there was not much I could learn that I wasn’t already aware of. But the museum documents and displays every aspect of the Holocaust and the systemic execution of six million people in such a way that it is impossible to walk through it unchanged. Yes, it was the story of man’s inhumanity to man; yes it was tragedy on a cosmic scale; but more than that, it was six million individual tragedies, the stories of neighbors and loved ones and families who were torn apart or destroyed. It put names and faces onto the vast, unimaginable statistics..

It reminded us of the interrupted vacations and weddings, of families torn apart, and of cruelty visited upon people who did not anticipate it or deserve it. The children’s Memorial spoke eloquently of what some would like history to forget: among the six million killed, there were 1.5 MILLION children lost to their parents, to the world, to the future. To us.

As heart-rending it is to think of the children, every story from the Holocaust is important. The people and families behind them are important, and they shine like lights in the darkness, calling all of us to remember, and to be accountable. As painful as it is to remember, it would be even more tragic to forget. Having been jarred to reality in the midst of a bucket list vacation, I stand with Israel, and with Israel I say: Never forget. Never again.

“Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: they shall prosper that love thee.” (Psalm 122:6, KJV)

A Reflection After Visiting the Holocaust Museum and Memorial

Take six million stars and simply wipe them from the sky;
Would the void they left be big enough to catch your eye?
Would the world take notice of the loss they signify?
Take six million families, and tear them all apart.
How much could you reconcile, and where would you even start?
Would that have an impact on the average human heart?
Take six million living souls and heap them in a grave.
Would it change the world to think of those we cannot save? Standing on the sideline is a choice you cannot waive…
Pray for peace in Israel, and pray that they’ll be brave.

On our tour of Israel last week, we moved so fast and saw so many things that it was almost overwhelming. There’s an expression we use for new people at work who are trying to get assimilated into our company and are trying to learn and absorb too much information at once. We call it “drinking from a fire hose”. That phrase was used on our tour more than once because of all of the information and locations that came flying at us in a short time.

We went from the airport to Joppa to Tel Aviv to Caesarea Maritime to Capernaum to Magdala to the Dead Sea. We were on the Golan Heights, at the Syrian border, went into Palestine, and looked just across the border into Jordan. We stood in mountaintop trenches next to UN observers. Our tour took us to Mt. Carmel where we imagined Elijah confronting the prophets of Baal and looked out over Megiddo and the future site of Armageddon. We encountered diverse cultures and people. I even met a nice Palestinian guard!

We saw multiple levels of civilization stacked upon modern times, old times, medieval times, and ancient history. We visited museums and memorials, tells and tombs, boats and borders. Our tour took us from the Sea of Galilee to the City of David, and from Dan to the Dead Sea. We encountered religion and royalty, sometimes in the same place. (Y’ all, I was like FIFTEEN FEET from Prince William!)

It was a wonderful, bucket list tour. Our guide Shlomo Ben Asher was a teacher, a Rabbi and a fount of wisdom as he led us through the Holy Land (which is fitting, since the name Shlomo is a modern Hebrew derivative of Solomon). I’ll write more about him later, but for today I thought I’d share my poetic impression of the tour:

I once met a modern Rabbi from the kibbutz Ein-Shemer
Who took me through the Holy Land and showed me all the treasures there.
Shlomo son of Asher helped me look at Israel through his eyes,
Teaching our group of Baptist pilgrims just like Solomon the wise.
Ancient history came to life in Israel everywhere we went,
As we Moved faster than a nomad bedouin could unfold his tent!
We saw Israel’s treasures from the Syrian border to the South, Learning from the stream of wisdom as it came from Shlomo’s mouth!
From Joppa to the Dead Sea we were starting early, finishing late,
Learning more of history than Herod who was called the great!
Of Israel’s sumptuous banquet we could only get a little taste,
But led by Shlomo, Larry and Chad, we did not let a moment waste.

Somehow, like a miracle, I’ve slept almost where David slept;
I’ve seen fields and hills where sheep by the future shepherd-King were kept. I saw the very stars that glistened, listened as he sang his song,
And I saw his city in Jerusalem, still alive and strong.
I have seen the evidence where men unearthed the temple wall,
Reflecting on the fact that men and walls, like David, also fall…
I have seen Mt Carmel, where Elijah called for holy fire,
Where he called for Baal and his unholy prophets to retire!
I have witnessed tells where ancient truth was excavated out,
Centuries of dirt obscuring what the truth might be about,
And churches built on holy sites or old traditions they would tout,
With Truth and legend intertwined so much that it could make you doubt.

Like Elijah, I could look upon the Valley of Jezreel,
Thinking of its storied past and all the things it made me feel:
Will this tranquil place become the Armageddon battlefield?
Mary Magdalena, did you ever know or could you see
That groups would come from Mexico, that someday archaeology
Would find your village’s synagogue near the shores of Galilee? Your hero and your exorcism have been so far-reaching
That they brought us to this place, this week, for Shlomo’s teaching.

I have seen so many things I want forever to recall:
The oasis of En Gedi, where David went when he was chased by Saul;
Herod’s grand and ancient hall, and desperate Masada’s fall…
Going in the Garden Tomb, or praying on the wailing wall;
So many things both big and small, and in this list not nearly all!
Ancient Scriptures, Dead Sea floating, doing Galilean boating!
Marketplaces. Children playing. Rabbis swaying as they’re praying.
The Dome of the Rock, so mean in spirit that they will not let you near it;
The loud intrusive call to prayer–you can’t ignore it if you hear it–
The Holocaust, so much regret; so much the world should not forget…
Modern life and ancient tels are my mosaic of Israel.

I’ve been near the place where Peter wept because a chicken squawked!
I have heard of politics, where threatening words like trash are talked;
I have seen the marketplace where goods were sold and wares were hawked;
But I have seen the Holy Land, and walked where Jesus walked.

Men may turn from ancient truths and follow after new;
Men may scoff at Scripture and debate its point of view,
And men may say there is no God by what they say and do;
But I have been to The Holy Land. And I know it’s true.

The Original Bo Jackson | Christian Daily Devotionals

An ordinary guy provides a daily dose of wisdom from an extraordinary book

Monthly Archives: July 2018

Masada: A Story of Desperation and Death Before Dishonor

The Garden: Why It Stands Out in a Week Filled With Meaning and Connection

Six Million: Trying to Count the Uncountable Cost of the Hopes and the Dreams and the Lives that Were Lost

The Tour, the Guide, the Tell– and All I Learned in Israel

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