Julia M. OBrien

I've read several articles in the past few weeks relating the presence of archaeological finds to the question of statehood.

I've just published a piece over at the Bible and Interpretation site entitled "Who Cares about the Prophets?"

With the start of a new semester, I’ve had to shift my direct attention away the West Bank/ Israel trip to courses, writing assignments, and speaking engagements.  But the realities I encountered in January aren’t fading away; instead, they are finding their way into all the work I’m doing.

I've just encountered powerful curriculum on Joshua.  It's entitled Joshua:  A Journey of Faith and is the 2009-2010 Horizons Bible Study for Presbyterian women.

The first of many unsettling experiences during the LTS West Bank/Israel trip was my introduction to the Wall.  While I had read much about the "separation wall" between Israel and the Occupied Territories and even seen photos from friends, I wasn't prepared for the reality.

From January 6 to January 25, I joined my colleague Anabel Proffitt in leading a group of 21 students from our institution through the West Bank and Israel.  I've recently returned, my camera full of pictures and my head full of realities to process and responses to formulate.  In the next few weeks, I'll be reporting on my evolving experience of the trip.

I've recently returned from co-leading a group of seminarians on a 17-day trip to the West Bank and Israel.  It was an intense experience, and I'll soon start blogging and uploading photos.

A lot will happen in the next six weeks. 

It's a common plot of novels and movies:  while the superstitious public clings to outdated religious beliefs, people in power compete for access to ancient manuscripts which reveal the powerful, if shocking, truth about the past. Think The DaVinci Code.  Indiana Jones movies. Bart Ehrman's Misquoting Jesus. Irving Wallace's The Word.

Between attending sessions and meetings at the Society of Biblical Literature meeting, I’m living in Reading Lolita in Tehran:  A Memoir in Books.  I say “living in” because that’s how I interact with books.  I live in them and they live in me—some for a few days, some for decades.