THE GARDEN TOMB - JERUSALEM

Since today is Easter I thought I would share with you an excerpt from my Israel journal about visiting The Garden Tomb in Jerusalem 10 years ago.

Wednesday, March 15, 2000

Several sources I read as I prepared for my trip described the garden tomb as: "for many ... the climax of their pilgrimage to Jerusalem" or "the highlight of their Holy Land visit." I, personally, echo a resounding "amen" to those statements. I tremendously enjoyed our guide's presentation as he showed us around the grounds and gave us the historical background of how this property came into British control. I loved the peace and tranquility of the garden setting that seemed to transcend even the horns blowing and the traffic noises in the background.

When we walked around to the tomb itself we were told we could enter it in groups of 6 or 8. I watched the first ones from within my group go in the tomb. When they stepped back out into the surrounding courtyard, almost all of them were crying. I thought that was odd. There was definitely a quiet reverence about this place but the same people who were busy whispering and commenting among themselves minutes before would be solemn and tearful just moments later when all they seemed to have done was enter and exit a small tomb. I wondered what there was about this tomb to produce that kind of a change.

Then came my turn. I've searched for words to describe the scene and can find none that seem adequate. Perhaps it was not as much what my eyes saw as what my spirit felt. All hewn from the rock, there is a weeping chamber where we stood, and a low rock wall leading to the burial chamber with its ledge that the body would have been lain upon. It was really what you might expect to see, I guess. But what I did not expect was the markedly different spirit I sensed in that small, cold, dark place. I have not physically felt such a heavy weight of sorrow since my father died. I don't believe I could have held back my tears if my life had depended upon it! It felt for the world to me as if Jesus had died only moments before and I had helped crucify Him. Only I didn't feel "guilty." I felt only intense grief at the suffering of One so precious.

Then, simultaneous with the sorrow and grief, was an absolutely overflowing gratitude - a recognition that were it not for what Jesus did on the cross and in the tomb, I would not have a relationship with Him. With that realization, my tears began to flow in profuse thanksgiving. It was the strangest and strongest mix of emotion I have ever experienced. And yet, as I think back on it now, I can remember feeling almost those exact emotions when, as an eight year old child, the Holy Spirit brought conviction of my sin and I asked Jesus to be my Savior.

We moved, one by one, to the benches in the center platform of the garden and sat in quiet reflection until our group was complete. Travis Cottrell read the resurrection story from scripture and began to lead us in some worship choruses. We felt so blessed to have the added dimension of a God-called worship leader like Travis touring with our group this day. Travis seemed, to me though, not focused on "leading" at this particular time but just like all the rest of us; compelled to express worship from the depth of his being. No one wanted to leave. What truly holy ground this seemed to be!

Have a Blessed Easter, my friends!

He is not here! He's alive!