the day i saw the Saviour

i have been a CHRISTian since 1997, when CHRIST revealed Himself to me in fullness in el naranjal, honduras, on a dirt road in that mountain village.  no sermon, no invitation complete with 15 verses of "just as i am," just an almost pauline experience of "why are you playing games with religion?" with the Saviour.  i was raised by wonderful, godly parents, who made sure that i was exposed to the Bible and the Gospel throughout my childhood days, but i will be the first to admit that in my life i have had doubts, culminating in college when everything i was being forced to learn in the biology/chemistry field contradicted what i was taught as a child.  i went through a crisis of faith, that i mostly kept to myself, where i questioned all that i had been brought up to believe.  but once CHRIST saved me, and changed my life forever, my faith became solidified in my life.  however, i will admit that i felt as many CHRISTians probably feel, a longing for the day when our faith will become sight, and we can see the Saviour face to face.  what is the reason for this?  many will give you a plethora of reasons, but very few will admit that they themselves struggle with the reality of it.  sure, they may have faith, and the Bible defines faith as "the evidence of things unseen," and unfortunately, for the majority of CHRISTians around the world, their faith must needs be placed upon things unseen.  that does not make it any less real, nor does it imply ignorance on their part, but rather the reality that we have to believe something we can only read about, and as a result, we become almost like thomas:  wanting to believe, but finding it difficult sometimes in the midst of a lack of seeing it ourselves.  that is why we long for that day when we shall stand face to face before our Saviour, experiencing Him fully and bowing at His feet in humble thanks and adoration and worship.

however, yesterday, something changed.  i saw the Saviour.  when orthodox jews pray, they pray moving their whole body, utilizing all of their senses, yielding all of them to God.  until yesterday, the only sense utilized in my faith was the sense of hearing, when my faith came by hearing the Word of God.  however, being able to utilize the senses of sight, smell, and touch, brought me one step closer to faith becoming sight.  being able to walk in the steps that CHRIST walked; touching the place where He cried out in anguish for the cup to pass from him, where His cross was placed, where His body was laid in preparation for burial, and the stone slab in the tomb where He defeated death; smelling the smells of jerusalem, the musty smell of the olive trees and dirt in the garden of gethsemane, of the anointing oils used in burial that emanated from the stone of preparation, the sickly sweet smell of stone and earth inside the tomb; made everything in the Bible come alive.

but the one sense that was the spark that lit the flame inside my soul, illuminating my faith, was the sense of sight.  standing on the mount of olives, seeing in one direction the desert where He went to be tempted, and in the other direction the city of jerusalem below, where He looked down and was moved with compassion, i gathered a glimpse of the drive inside of Him, of loving a people so deeply that it grieved His spirit at their hopelessness.  sitting in the garden of gethsemane, and looking around at the olive trees, kneeling at the stone where He prayed, and closing my eyes and picturing the darkness of that night as He awaited arrest, knowing what lay ahead, and having a chance to walk away, but choosing to submit to the Father's will,  i experienced a mere semblance of the urgency of the mission that He must have felt, the urgency of knowing that there was no other way for sinful humans to meet God's demands for holiness.  walking the via dolorosa, "the way of anguish," i could almost hear the people shouting, could almost see them lining the streets, pressing upon Him and pushing Him forward towards the place of His crucifixion.  it flooded me with the great sorrow that weighed heavier upon Him than the cross he bore upon his back, a sorrow not of what He was going through, but a sorrow wrought in the ignorance of the people around Him, the ones He loved, who not only didn't love Him back, but hated and despised Him, of a love unrequited.  few things in this life are as painful as a broken heart, and His heart was breaking as He walked that half-mile to golgotha.  seeing the rough stones on that street, and the steps going upward, that made it a sometimes unstable and difficult walk, brought to life the unbelievable task of walking that street while dehydrated and exhausted from lack of sleep, with the immense weight of a wooden crossbeam on His back.  going into the church of the holy sepulchre, i climbed the steps to golgotha, and saw and touched the ground where He was nailed to the cross, and the hole that the cross was dropped down into.  i closed my eyes and tried to block out the gaudiness of the silver and gold icons that now surrounded the place where my Saviour died for me.  i imagined what the area looked like, the smells of death and decay that would have permeated the air.  i saw His passion as He cried out "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing."  climbing down from golgotha, i went to the place where His body was prepared for burial.  the romans in their cruelty, wanted to make sure that people realized the penalty for defying them, so they would not only leave people on the crosses for days after their death, to be used as fodder for crows, but once the deceased condemned were taken down from the cross, there was a stone slab nearby that their body would be placed upon and sometimes left for days as well, so that their grotesqueness and decay would be witnessed by all who passed by.  this as well removed any shred of dignity as their body lay there naked awaiting their loved ones, if any dared, to come out and prepare them for burial, and would be a further reminder to the jews of what happened when someone dared to defy the roman empire.  it was there that i saw His humility, in allowing them to treat Him with such contempt, and it resounded in my mind, flooding my thoughts, the verse where it said, "and He humbled himself, being obedient to death, even to death on a cross."  it was there that the "even" garnered meaning beyond anything i ever have imagined in my head.

and then, as i stood in line for 20 minutes to spend my 15 seconds inside His tomb, a tide of reality crashed into my faith.  the King was dead.  you read it in the Bible, you see it in movies and plays, but here, in the coldness and solemnity of this dark, cold, stone church, the reality set in.  as i waited to enter, i realized what the disciples must have felt as they waited.  those 20 minutes seemed like hours, as i tried to process all my soul was experiencing through the rush of the dwindling of time, like trying to drink in as much of a river as you could as it rushed past.  before entering His tomb, there was a tomb in a room off to the right, that was the tomb that joseph of arimithea occupied after giving his tomb to CHRIST.  it was not covered with a chapel, nor was it garnished with gold and silver or icons and paintings, but rather was a simple room, left untouched save the walls and high ceiling of the church built around the site.  the floor was not paved, but was still a rock and dirt floor, and you could walk down into it and see and experience what an actual tomb was like during the time of CHRIST.  this was a reminder of the lack of pomp surrounding CHRIST's burial.  i pictured that as i made my way forward with the pilgrims of the faithful to the entrance of CHRIST's tomb.  it was now covered with the extravagance that the church had bestowed upon the holy place.  the entrance was low and cramped, and only 3 or 4 people could be inside at a time due to the space constraints.  as i entered, an overwhelming sense of holiness permeated the air.  some may say it was emotion, but it was more than that.  i felt a stirring in my soul that was as powerful as that day in el naranjal, when CHRIST revealed Himself to me.  there it was:  the stone where His body lay.  it is important to note that:  it was His body.  He was dead.  this was a tomb, a grave, cold and dark, sealed off by a massive stone, despite the spectacle that it has now become.  in those 15 seconds inside, before the attendant outside began rushing us out, i experienced a lifetime.  for a moment, time stood still.  and in the final seconds, as i knelt there with tears running down my face, i saw Him defeat death, and noted that His body is not there!  joseph of arimithea's bones were carried away and put in a church somewhere, as were the other apostles and saints throughout history.  but there were no bones of CHRIST to carry away.  i watched Him in my mind's eye, sit up on that slab, place His feet over the side, stand up, and walk out of that tomb.  He's alive!  and because He's alive, we now have all of these places that have been preserved.  because He's alive, i now have a Saviour, instead of a dead religious leader leaving me hopeless.  the King is alive!

there were those there that kissed the places mentioned.  there were those that were simply there because of the historical significance of them.  there were those there that signed up for a tour, and missed the Saviour.  that's because rocks and churches and paintings are just that:  creations.  there is little value in and of those things apart from faith.  some chose to place their faith in those things, worshiping the creation instead of the Creator.  for me, they were a doorway to a hidden part of my faith that i never realized was there until yesterday.  Jesus said, "blessed are those who haven't seen and yet believe."  so was my faith any less real before yesterday?  absolutely not, as is the same with yours.  the government of nigeria will pay for their people to visit jerusalem once in their lifetime.  the nation of israel will pay for a "birthright" trip for every jew throughout the world to come to the holy land once in their lifetime.  i wish that every one of you could get the chance to come and experience the holy land, if only once in your lifetime.  but for those who will never be able to, take heart, for your faith without sight is blessed, and one day, all of us will have our faith become sight when we stand before Him in Heaven to share eternity in His presence!  until that day, my faith will forever be changed, having seen a glimpse of the Saviour, much like moses in the cleft of the rock, and having those places in Scripture come to life, from words typed on the onion-skin paper of my Bible, to a place of strengthened reality in my soul.  there is no greater CHRISTmas present that i could ever have asked for!