In September 2009, during a salvage excavation at the ancient site of Magdala, a carved stone caught the attention of archaeologists.

The building, constructed in basalt and limestone –as was common in the region–seemed like any other, until the shape of a rosette emerged from the soil on a limestone. Soon it was revealed that the stone stood apart from the structure and was carved on all sides. Most striking of all: one of its faces depicted a menorah, the seven-branched candelabrum symbolizing the presence of God in the Temple of Jerusalem.

This unexpected discovery transformed the perception of the site. It was not just any building –it was a first-century synagogue.

The power of art became evident. Centuries later, the so-called Magdala Stone, commissioned and placed in this gathering place (Bet Kneset or synagogue), continues to convey a message: this was a special space, marked by identity, and it still speaks to us today.

Over the past sixteen years, numerous studies have been published. What was once an exceptional “new discovery” has now become widely acknowledged. Yet many questions remain, and theories about this space are far from unified: What was the exact function of the stone? What meaning did it hold for the community of that time? Who gathered in this place?

While archaeologists and scholars may not agree on every detail, one truth is clear: art –regardless of its time– communicates and gives identity to places.