Come with Me to the Garden Tomb
You and I thread our way through the crowded souks of Jerusalem’s Old City, our feet occasionally stumbling on the ups and downs of the ancient white-limestone walkways. We dodge carts of supplies and the clever shopkeepers trying everything to draw us into their stalls. Signs high overhead in Roman numerals indicate the “stations of the cross,” charting our route (and more importantly, our Savior’s) along the Via Dolorosa. We round the corner where Jesus stumbled under the cross and Simon of Cyrene picked it up and carried it for Him.
Awhile later, passing through a sea of pots and pans and other household goods, we approach the Damascus Gate, with caution. Knowing that violence occurs here once in a while, we look around first. The uniformed police and armed military today give us confidence as we exit the gate. A right turn onto the sidewalk, and city traffic and hubbub launch a cacophony of sound our direction. We follow the Old City wall a block or so down, then turn left into a winding street, squeezed between shops and restaurants on one side and a solid wall on the other. Many people on foot crowd those narrow confines.
Right beside me, you exclaim suddenly, “Someone just had his hand in my pocket, going for my wallet!” To my relief, I learn that you clamped down your hand quickly, so the thief’s hand withdrew. And, of course, melted into the crowd.
Now, we arrive at our destination. A sign in the wall announces: “The Garden Tomb.” As soon as we set foot inside, the city noise recedes, and we feel a holy calm. Lovely gardens and blooming flowers border pleasant walkways, and a pastor guide–with joy filling his face–greets us. This is clearly a place of faith and hope. Several decorated-tile signs quietly proclaim the great truths of God’s love and victory. Tucked away, in the midst of this strife-torn city, we stroll through a literal oasis of peace and beauty. Even the very air we breathe feels cleaner.
Our guide unfolds the best story in all of history, as we walk through the garden and up a small hill. He directs our gaze to the right, at a cliff that appears to have the eyes of a skull. It’s so riveting that we hardly notice the busy bus station just below. Since there are differences of expert opinion about the exact spot where these cataclysmic events occurred, our guide is careful to say, “We cannot prove this is indeed the very place Jesus died and rose again, but history is clear that it did happen. If it wasn’t right here, we know it was, definitely, very near here.”
Full of serious thoughts, we take the stone steps back down, then pause. Before us, just below, a tomb carved out of rock is revealed. The door stands wide open. Seekers and Christian pilgrims take turns going in and coming back out.
We descend, and then it’s our turn to enter. We step across the trench that once held the tomb’s giant, round seal and into the burial chamber itself. Could this be Joseph of Arimathea’s tomb, which he (briefly) loaned to Jesus? If not, it must be very much like the actual place where everything changed, that first Easter morning. On the right are two burial spaces, hewn from solid stone.
At that moment, it seems natural to picture a bright angel saying to the women who followed Jesus, “Why do you look for the living One among the dead? He is not here, but He has risen! Remember how He spoke to you while He was in Galilee, saying that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and the third day rise again.” (Luke 24: 5b-7 NASB) In this place, in such a fresh way, the best news in all the world begins to soak more deeply into our hearts.
We turn, with tears in our eyes. He did that–for us! As we step out into bright daylight, it’s almost as if we have been reborn. All our failings and sins died with him on “skull hill,” the old chains are gone, and we can arise with Him to new life, assured of eternal life. Our hope is strong and certain. Our love for God is more intense. Our desire to share the news multiplies. His love and sacrifice—with supernatural power–conquered sin and death, for you and for me! Praise God!
Happy Resurrection Day, with our love—and His!
Gary and Susan Bauer
