All Night on the Lake (and Nothing)

In 1986, a drought dropped the Sea of Galilee so low that a fishing boat appeared in the mud. It was about two thousand years old.

No one knows whose boat it was. But it's exactly the kind you'd be rowing tonight.

You and Yoni push off at dusk, because fishing here happened at night. Your net is three layers deep, with corks on top and lead weights along the bottom. You set it in a wide curve and mark the ends with floating gourds, because in the dark you can't see a thing.

Then you wait. And haul. And wait.

By dawn, you have a handful of tiny sardines. Yoni calls it a warm-up. You call it the whole catch.

You row them to Magdala, a town that ran on fish. Its Greek name was all about salting. Salted, your little fish could travel. Sifting Jerusalem's ancient garbage, archaeologists found fish bones, some from this very lake.

Now picture another dawn on this shore. John's Gospel says the disciples fished all night and caught nothing. When the sun came up, Jesus was standing on the beach. He had a charcoal fire going, with fish on it, and bread.

After a night like yours, you'd know exactly what that breakfast meant. And two thousand years later, the lake had one more surprise.