...with stops at Bet Alpha and Bet She'arim

On the way to Caesarea we made two stops. I thought I had seen just about everything during the BYU Jerusalem study abroad, but of course there is much, much more to explore. At that time we didn't visit either of these sites, probably because they aren't biblical (or I may well be misremembering). 

The first stop is Bet Alpha. When immigrants were constructing a kibbutz in the 1920s they discovered a mosaic that had once made up the floor of an ancient synagogue.

Archeological remains of walls and roof tiles indicate that the mosaic was the central feature of basilica-shaped building. This is what the model looks like, with roof cut away:

 

With the mosaic in the central hall:

 

In the center of the mosaic is a zodiac with the symbols of the months, with the sun god at the hub. The lower relief shows the near sacrifice of Isaac.

An inscriptions reads, "The mosaic was laid in the year of the reign of Emperor Justin (517-528 CE) for the price of one hundred measures of grain donated by the villagers."

An interesting aspect of the work is that it is a "primitive" form of art, with simple figures depicted with poor perspective and childish-appearing features. Is this intentional? Were the artists poorly trained? Is this all the one hundred measures of grain could purchase?

 

Our second stop is Bet She'arim, which is Hebrew for "house of gates." It's not clear what the gates refers to. It's the site of an enormous necropolis, an underground cemetery. 

Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi (aka Judah the Prince) was buried here in 220 AD, after which many Jews from around the country and beyond followed his lead. 

Yehuda served as head of the Sanhedrin (Jewish court), and he compiled the Mishnah, the important Jewish commentary on the Bible. Often he's simply referred to as "Rabbi." 

Entrance to one of the many burial caves. "Gates" to the underworld?

The atmosphere is dark and somber.

I test drove one of the stone coffins, which are called sarcophagi in Greek (=flesh eater). I'm glad I don't have to spend eternity in a too-tight-fitting stone box. Talk about a crick in the neck!