Mark & Jen's 'Around the World' Travel & Photography Blog

The sun rose over the Garden Tomb this morning as we joined an international crowd to celebrate this Easter day. Christians and the curious from all over Europe and Russia, from Indonesia and Nigeria, from North and South America, and from Israel and Palestine converged in a beautiful garden surrounding one supposed location of Jesus’ crucifixion and tomb. As one Catholic priest reportedly remarked, “If the Garden Tomb is not the true site of the Lord’s death and resurrection it should have been.” It is true. The place defines peace itself. And standing there amidst the rock and the flowers, Mark and I were touched by being a part of something so much greater than ourselves.

Jericho / Jerusalem / Jerusalem / Inside Church of the Holy Sepulchre

Our past week in Jerusalem has been a dive into the Biblical stories we have heard since we were children. We explored the remains of King David’s City during the First Temple Period (10^th century BC); donning our water sandals and headlamps, we explored the depths of King Hezekiah’s water tunnels (700 BC, II Chron 32:3) under the city, ending at the Pool of Siloam where Jesus healed a blind man. Above ground, we meandered through the Temple Mount, the place where Abraham nearly sacrificed his son Isaac and where the First and Second Temples were built and subsequently destroyed. We toured Jericho, the first city Joshua conquered to attain the Promised Land. In the Jewish Quarter of the Old City, remains of the old city walls and cisterns from these ancient times still exist—you could easily pass them by without a second glance. And just as the sun set along the 2000-year-old Western Wall, we observed hundreds of enraptured Jews, both orthodox and not, usher in the Sabbath through their devoted prayers at the place where they believe God’s divine presence has never left, even throughout the destruction of their temples and the capture and re-capture of their city.

Dome of the Rock on Temple Mount

Fast-forwarding to Jesus’ day, Mark and I visited Bethlehem, Jesus’ place of birth. We walked on Temptation Mountain, where Jesus held his 40 day fast and was tempted by Satan to prove himself God. We stepped inside the Upper Room where Jesus held the Last Supper. We walked in the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus fervently prayed for a way to escape what was to come. We visited Herod’s palace where Pontius Pilate sentenced Jesus to be crucified. And we too walked the Via Dolorosa, the uphill path that Jesus Himself walked, carrying his own cross past the jeering crowds, past his crying mother, and past his stunned disciples. At the end, we stood inside the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which Helena of Constantinople decided around 300 AD to be the place where Jesus was crucified and buried. Around us, people lit candles before an altar of the cross. Women bent over in humble prostration, kissing the stone where it is believed Jesus’ body was lain. And grown men bent over themselves in humble prayers of devotion. I have no words to describe the feeling of walking on such holy ground. The emotion is so instant, so intense, so consuming.

As Mark and I sat amidst the international and inter-denominational crowd at the Garden Tomb this morning, we culminated a week in the Promised Land. The peacefulness of the garden, the devotion of the people, and the words of the Easter-morning hymns moved both of us. Mark’s tears flowed freely into a pool at his feet. The trees moved in the morning breeze and the swallows glided overhead. And in the background, the rocky tomb stood open…and empty.

Our own blessings to you and your family this Easter morning.

Us, Claire & Brad (college friends) at Shabbat dinner / Floating at Dead Sea