Archaeology Furnishes a Beautiful Lesson in Family

There are many reasons to love and practice archaeology. Uncovering the past gives clarity, meaning and perspective to the present. By studying the civilizations before us, we can better understand our own.

But the rewards and fulfillment of archaeology go beyond just studying the past. As those who have worked on our many digs know, there is also something very special about working alongside diggers from different nations and cultures. It is a mixture of different religious backgrounds and even different languages, but everyone works toward a common goal.

Because of that, each dig team quickly becomes like a family. Our students have experienced the camaraderie and unity that come from passing buckets down a line of volunteers, or from young men working together to move giant stones, or from engaging in discussion about the meaning of life with volunteers from all parts of the world. No matter one’s background, the dirt and dust show no respect for race, religion, age, wealth or ethnicity. Everyone on the dig site gets hot, tired, sore and filthy.

I believe some of the joy of practicing archaeology was captured in an especially profound way in a special address from the man who has overseen the past few digs that we’ve been involved in: Prof. Uzi Leibner.

On the final day of the excavation, the crew gathered for dinner at our institute in Jerusalem. Those in attendance shared a meal, stories, anecdotes and memories from the four weeks of excavation. But it was Professor Leibner’s address that contained an especially powerful and poetic message. He beautifully captured the joy of practicing archaeology and revealed what it is like to be a part of an archaeological family. This is what he told us.

Dear friends, as we gather here today at the end of this season’s excavation in the heart of Jerusalem, I feel deep gratitude and humility—gratitude, for each and every one of you.

These past weeks have not only uncovered stones and pottery sherds, but also revealed something far more precious: the strength of friendship, the spirit of collaboration, and the quiet determination that comes from working side by side in the dust and heat, driven by curiosity and care.

We came here not only to dig but to understand, to recover fragments of memory from a city layered in history and meaning. And we did it together—teachers and students, workers and volunteers—each of us bringing hands, hearts and minds to the shared task.

We toiled shoulder to shoulder. We puzzled over pottery in the shade. We lifted each other’s spirits when the days grew long. And in doing so, we built a community. That, too, is part of Jerusalem’s story.

But as we celebrate what we’ve achieved, we must also remember what was lost.

Beneath our feet lie the echoes of a city that more than once was torn by fire and sword, by exile and lament. As we uncovered walls and burned layers, we stood in silent witness to ancient trauma. We were reminded that archaeology is not only about stones, but about people—hopes dashed, lives disrupted, yet stories preserved.

We recall the voice of Jeremiah, who walked these same hills and foresaw the city’s fall. Saturday night will be the eve of the 9th of Av, the day in which Jerusalem was destroyed twice, first temple and second temple. The Jewish custom is to read the book of Lamentations, traditionally attributed to Jeremiah, which opens with the verse:

How lonely sits the city
that was full of people!
She that was great among the nations
is now like a widow.

Yet even in mourning, Jeremiah offered a seed of hope:

I will restore you to health
and heal your wounds, declares the Lord. …
I will bring you back from captivity
and rebuild you as you were before.
—Jeremiah 30:17-18

That is the paradox and the promise of Jerusalem: destruction and return, exile and rebuilding, memory and renewal.

Our work here honors that legacy. Every layer we documented, every artifact we registered, adds a thread to the tapestry of this city’s ongoing story. We ourselves are a part of its repair—not only by reconstructing lost knowledge but by living and working here together.

In the tour we had this week, Orit mentioned the poet Yehuda Amichai. He was not only one of the best poets of modern Israel but also a great lover of Jerusalem who wrote a lot about it. He had this beautiful metaphor: “Jerusalem is a port city on the shore of eternity.”

A short poem that faithfully reflects our experience in the excavation goes as follows:

Who has ever seen Jerusalem naked?
Not even the archaeologists.
Jerusalem never gets completely undressed.
But always puts on new houses
Over the shabby and broken ones.

Every time we get excited about a new structure or find we uncover, I am reminded of another poem of Amichai, which praises the people and their daily lives rather than the spectacular remains:

Once I sat on the steps by a gate at David’s Tower, I placed my two heavy baskets at my side. A group of tourists was standing around their guide and I became their target marker. “You see that man with the baskets? Just right of his head there’s an arch from the Roman Period. Just right of his head.” “But he’s moving, he’s moving!” I said to myself: Redemption will come only if their guide tells them, “You see that arch from the Roman Period? It’s not important: but next to it, left and down a bit, there sits a man who’s bought fruit and vegetables for his family.”

So let us leave this site not only with sore muscles and full notebooks but with full hearts. Let us carry forward the friendships we have forged, the wisdom we gained, and the quiet pride knowing we gave our best—to the past, to each other, and to Jerusalem.

I have lots of people to thank for this wonderful season. First of all, each and every one of the volunteers. Many thanks to the Armstrong Institute of Biblical Archaeology for the financial help, lasting support and especially for sending this amazing team to work with us.

I especially want to thank the staff members of the expedition: area supervisors Amir, Chris and Akiva—we are blessed with great professional area supervisors; assistant supervisors Nadav, Shoham, Aviv and Amichay; registrars Gal and Nadav, assisted by Shlomo on the sifting and washing area; administrators Asher, Aluma and Yedidya.

There are various qualities you would look for when choosing staff members for an expedition: professionalism, ability to perform and deliver, etc. In my experience, among the most important are a good spirit and a good sense of humor. So thank you all for a hilarious season.

Above all, I want to thank Orit for this great partnership. Thanks for sharing not only the vision and leadership but also the weight and responsibility—the endless logistics, the daily decisions and, yes, the long, unglamorous hours of post-excavation work: the sorting, cataloging and interpreting of finds long after the thrill of the field has passed. Your partnership has been a source of strength and joy, and this excavation would not have been the same without you. Thank you for being willing to walk this journey together.

May we all meet again next year in peace, in curiosity and in shared purpose.