[This post is from 2 years ago while I was in Jerusalem during the Holy Week]
Suffering. The Via Dolorosa. Pain. Anguish. It begins at the old Fort Antonio. Today it stands as representation to the procession of the cross. Condemned. A death to which was undeserved. Crucify. The very crowds that cheered for his presence. A glorious entry. Praised. Honored.
Betrayed. Turned to the law and broken. Jesus stood in Fort Antonio to hear a verdict of his life. His destiny was death. Nothing less. Today standing there helped me to picture that moment of defeat. Today thousands of pilgrims from around the world stood in the courtyard of Fort Antonio-now an Arabic school- singing songs to Christ. The masses stood in place of those from two thousand years ago. I could only imagine the horror from then. Screaming. Cheering. Condemning. We followed the procession for a little while, however, the crowds almost became too much to manage.
Once we finally made it out of the procession we found our way back to our guesthouse. Soon thereafter a friend and I went back to the Garden Tomb. Today was a day for reflection, meditation, and prayer. I needed it all. Overcome by peace, I was able to rest in the His arms. I cried some tears of joy. No weeping. Just peace. Beautiful peace.
Good Friday- this Friday- two thousand years ago. At the ninth hour- 3pm- Christ died. His last breath. Gone. Darkness came. It rested in the sky. Hovering. Waiting. In the Garden today, that darkness has gone. It turned cloudy at one point, showing me a darkness. But today I focused on joy. I rejoiced in the Glory of Christ risen. The flowers dance to the wind. The birds sing. The stones, present 2000 years ago, remain. If this Garden was the tomb of Christ, those stones are witnesses to that Glory.