Masada is a massive rock, rising from the south Judean desert. Walking round the edge of its flattened height, there is no life to be seen anywhere. All around, only the expanse of the dry, rocky desert. Except for the Sea to the west. Yet this is the salt-soaked Dead Sea whose water is lifeless, absolutely lifeless.

On this mount Herod had built a fortress for escape. Later, nearly a thousand Jewish Zealots made their home there to keep the pure faith and to elude the Romans. On the eastern corner of Masada, facing distant and unseen Jerusalem, the Zealots had built a synagogue. One of the several scrolls archaeologists found there was that of the prophet Ezekiel.

I marvel to think of those eyes scanning the vast Judean desert, listening to Ezekiel tell of being set in a valley, a valley fu…