Sabbatical: Day 7

Early today we come to the Garden Tomb. Just above us looms Golgotha, the features of a skull are clearly seen these two thousand years after the murder of Jesus on that place. There are no crosses standing there, no markers and no shrine. It is my opinion that even to this day most people want to avoid the cross and that is why there is not a shrine there. I see that cross, the pain, the agony, the suffering and death. But what I sense most is "alone". Jesus called out to God from that cross, "why have you forsaken me"? In my heart I know that Jesus loves me enough to face death for me. The guiltless, sinless and perfect Son of God gave his life as the sacrifice for my sin and suffered rejection to pay a price that I could never pay. Because of this I have approach to God and the option of eternal life. Eternity will not be long enough for me to sing his praise. Serving him here is insufficient to show my gratitude. By walking a few steps to the east and rounding a short partition wall I am in the garden where the borrowed tomb is located. (I think this partition is a sound barrier for street traffic) Several hundred people are here and great preparation for our service and communion. Pastors Matthew and John Hagee sing and preach and praise in sweet leadership as my thoughts turn from the cross to that "EMPTY" tomb. The songs were all well known and familiar but there impact was amplified, multiplied a million times as I gazed into the door of an empty room. My Saviour lives! The tomb could not hold him. Jesus returned to us, alive, having placed his perfect blood sacrifice on the golden alter before the throne. I can say without doubt; He lives in Heaven and in my heart. This communion service will be one of my sweetest memories of this trip. As I celebrated the body and blood of my Saviour I doubled my commitment to our relationship and my service to my fellow man. I experienced a "new birth".....again. 

The remainder of the day, my last day, was spent at two memorials, The Holocaust and Friends of Israel. I learned much of the history of the second world war from my family as a boy. Their stories did not prepare me for this day or these memorials. I won't write much here. I will say that the spirit, the hate and the evil that lived in the Nazi effort is in our world once again in these Radical Muslims. I pray that the world does not turn it's back on Israel.