Daily Life in Capernaum

I saw an old harbor today, for the third time. I have read so many books and seen so many pictures that many things don't strike deep, but these walls and anchorages that speak of the daily grind keep making an impression on my heart.

Show me the un-amazing! Daily life. The grit that made the clock go 'round. I like to see where Jesus hauled sails, mended nets and bought rope. I like to realize that he probably did mend nets, not because he was a fisherman but because he was a friend. I like that he probably did sit on the ground sorting out unclean fish, listening to friends snap yet not lecturing.

I clambered around the rocks some and stumbled on the ruins of the old fish shop. Its pools of slimy, slithering fish are long gone, but I pondered it as I sat on the old seawall. Nearby was the same gorgeous array of blossoming bushes they saw- pale lavender, raspberry, an elegant cream and bright pink. I watched it get stormy as they did, saw the sky darkening as storm clouds blew in from the north.

Peter's house was a short walk away, and it's easy to picture him, Jesus and Andrew crossing the dirt road lining the coast, stopping by the rock-walled fish shop to get some bait and wading out to the sailboat rocking in the harbor. Perhaps the two brothers were complaining about the chilly water, the lack of fish or James and John.

Capernaum strikes deep because of what happened here. Because of shivering winter nights wrapped in blankets and gorgeous spring afternoons fishing, because of hot summer nights on the roof and the first tinge of fall. Because of children making mischief in the courtyard, women grinding grain for dinner and men coming in from a long night fishing. Because of joking, crying, grumbling and loving. Because of the ordinary stuff of life. Jesus' life.