Sunday, July 26, 2015

Get to the Garden

To return to my really unnerving experience in Jerusalem early in my trip, I want to further explore my experience at the Garden Tomb.

First of all, I know that this is a contested site of His burial and, honestly, most people I respect do NOT think it's the actual burial spot. Do you know what else? I don't care one whit. All I know is that both times I have been in that Garden, I have felt an overwhelming sense of His presence. Was He once buried there? Who knows. Does His presence live there right now for me, in an almost palpable sense? YES. 

After my harrowing and frustrating trek through the Old City and the streets around Damascus Gate, after being almost trapped in the bus terminal and being denied access out at any juncture by police and military checkpoints, walking into that Garden felt like the oil of Peace was flowing through my being. I limped in and immediately heard the violin strains of "Great is Thy Faithfulness". I sat down on a bench near the entry and the tears leaked out and down my cheeks. I saw for a while, drained of all energy, fear, and sense of my surroundings, until I finally got up and walked down to take a seat near the tomb. The violinist continued to play, and I wept. 

There were very few people at the Garden Tomb that day (most people probably were smarter than I), so I had a lot of time to sit, listen to the haunting and beautiful sounds of the violin, reflect, and let the place minister to my spirit and my soul. As I leaned back against the cold stone wall, facing the tomb, I thought about the hour or more it took to get there. In the middle of all of the crowds, the misdirections, the wrong turns, the fear, the frustration, there was one phrase rattling around in my head: "If I can just get to the Garden." The thing is, getting to the Garden Tomb wasn't going to completely change my circumstances. I was still going to have to leave, go back into the crowds and heat and weariness, and somehow find my way "home". But I knew that, as soon as I made it to the Garden, I could sit and breathe, rest my feet, drink some cool water, and settle my nerves. It truly represented a Refuge for me on that day.

How many times is this a metaphor for our daily lives? We push through the crowds, take what we assume will be the easy and correct path, only to find blockades and wrong turns and misdirections? We get frustrated, we have tears of anger and dissatisfaction, then the whole experience turns frightening? But in the midst of it all, our heart knows that we just need to get to the Garden. If we can just get to the place (emotionally, spiritually, figuratively) where we feel His presence the most, we can soak in enough peace to get us back out into the fray and "home". I think it's important to know where those places are in our own lives, and also to recognize the signs when we start to near breakdown point so that we can get to the Garden in time to let the calming balm pour over us.



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