It wasn’t in the top ten—not even the top fifty—-of places I wanted to visit. But next month, we’re going to Israel. I want to go to Israel. Because of a painting.
I was full of plans to go to Asia or South America or back home to my birthplace, Australia. I thought someday it would be nice to visit the Bible land but it didn’t have a toehold on my todo list.
Then I saw this painting.
“You must see this painting!” My friend stopped me on the way out her front hallway. She hauled a massive canvas out of her closet, nearly four square feet of oil painting displaying a bride walking down a Jerusalem road. Bracing the picture in front of her, my friend lovingly explained how she had purchased it in Jerusalem’s famous Shuk market. “The artist takes Jerusalem stone,” she said, “Grinds up pebbles and puts it into the paint. These painted stones actually contain Israel stone.”
And I suddenly knew that I had to go to Israel.
Not because it was the best painting—I’ve seen a Da’Vinci in person. Not because it was the most Jewish painting—I’ve seen a Chagal in person! But somehow in my friend’s hands, this piece of art unbuckled me from my mindset of only going to the edges. It freed me to go to where everyone goes, to go to the center.
Israel is the center. Its soil joins continents, divides politics, crushes together cultures and separates centuries. It sets the story that centers my life, the story that made me, the story I retell. The story of the man Yeshua—the teacher, the ruler, the servant, the new man coming for his bride—that story is grounded in Israel.
In order to tell his story, I need to visit his home, get the texture, the temperatures, the sand in the shoes and salt smells in my hair. I need to get stones in my metaphorical paint.
Fortunately, I’m not going alone. I am an artist who draws but mostly paints with words. My mother is a wonderful wordsmith who professionally paints in watercolor.
Together, we are going to Israel for nearly three months, to paint and write, to see, smell and taste the land that shaped the story. Stay tuned or subscribe to see the art, hear the tales and discover how the setting changes our understanding.
I forgot to ask my friend how she got that massive painting home…
