From docks along the Sea of Galilee, you can look out on the whole of creation. Some of it is God’s. The rest is Styrofoam, covered with a thin layer of stucco. The city of Jerusalem is behind me; an enormous statue of Neptune sprawls recumbent above its arched entrance. Mary Magdalene’s house is just over the wall, as is Matthew’s place, both of them a stone’s throw from the temple where Jesus condemned the Pharisees. The majestic swell of Mount Tabor lies in the distance—or it will, anyway, once the matte artists fill it in. Now all I see is flat Texas sky, pocked by the faint white plumes issuing from the cement plants in Midlothian. This sacred ground, located less than an hour…