A Walk with Christ in the Holy Land

"And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn."

— Luke 2:7 (KJV)

We begin where heaven first touched earth in a quiet way. Bethlehem, house of bread. A young woman has come a long road from the north. A child is born in a borrowed corner. The shepherds will hear the angels before the kings hear of the star. Already the gospel is telling us how God prefers to come — to the small, to the unprepared, to the door no one expected him to knock upon.

"And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man."

— Luke 2:52 (KJV)

From Bethlehem we travel north to the village where the Lord grew up. Nazareth is small. In the eyes of the great world it is nothing. And yet here, in a carpenter's house, the eternal Word learns to read and write, to plane wood and hammer nails, to keep the Sabbath with his neighbours. Thirty years of quiet. The Lord is not in a hurry. He is teaching us that holiness is built in the patience of the ordinary years.

"And, lo, the heavens were opened unto him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and lighting upon him: And lo a voice from heaven, saying, This is my beloved Son."

— Matthew 3:16-17 (KJV)

The cousin in the wilderness has been calling Israel to wash and turn back to God. The Lord comes and stands in line with the rest. He has no sin to repent of. He stands with us anyway. As he rises from the water, the heavens open. The Spirit comes upon him as gently as a dove. The Father speaks. Three voices, one God, one beginning of the long road that will end at a cross and an empty tomb.

"Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men."

— Matthew 4:19 (KJV)

On the shore of this lake the Lord finds his first companions. Fishermen who do not know yet what they are being asked. He says only, follow me, and they leave their nets. The hills above this water hold the Sermon on the Mount. Blessed are the poor in spirit. Blessed are they that mourn. Blessed are the meek. The kingdom is opening here on the green hillsides, a few feet above the same fish that will fill the nets after his resurrection.

"And he entered into a ship, and passed over, and came into his own city."

— Matthew 9:1 (KJV)

Capernaum becomes his city. He teaches in the synagogue here. He heals Peter's mother-in-law in this house. The paralytic is let down through this roof. A centurion sends to him from this neighbourhood. The town is not large, but it gathers around him as a household gathers around a kitchen table. Many of his most beloved miracles happen in walking distance of where you are now standing.

"Hosanna to the son of David: Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest."

— Matthew 21:9 (KJV)

Now the road climbs out of the Jordan Valley. We come over the Mount of Olives and the whole city of Jerusalem opens before us — temple, gates, walls golden in the afternoon sun. The Lord weeps over this city. He enters not on a war horse but on a donkey. Crowds wave palms. They do not understand yet what they are welcoming. Within the week most of them will scatter.

"Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done."

— Luke 22:42 (KJV)

After the supper, the Lord crosses the brook Kidron and comes into a garden of olive trees. Some of these trees are old enough that they may have stood here on that night. He kneels and prays. His friends fall asleep. He prays alone. The cup he asks the Father to remove will not be removed; he will drink it for our sake. Yet in this garden the Father's love is closer than ever — the angel comes and strengthens him. This is the prayer of all who would follow him: not my will, but thine.

"Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do."

— Luke 23:34 (KJV)

We approach with reverence and without too many words. The cross stood here. The world's salvation was wrought here. From this small hill the love of God poured out for every household on earth, in every age. We do not linger on the wounds. We linger on the words. Forgive them. Today shalt thou be with me in paradise. Behold thy son, behold thy mother. It is finished. Father, into thy hands. The seven last words are a small testament from the cross to every reader since.

"He is not here: for he is risen, as he said."

— Matthew 28:6 (KJV)

Before the sun rose on the first day of the new week, the stone was rolled away. The women came to anoint a body and found instead a folded cloth and an angel. The first words of the gospel of the resurrection are simple: he is not here, for he is risen. Stand here a moment. The whole of Christianity rests on this small empty space. If he is risen, then everything he said is true. If he is risen, then death itself has been turned inside out. If he is risen, then we, too, shall rise.

"And it came to pass, as he sat at meat with them, he took bread, and blessed it, and brake, and gave to them. And their eyes were opened, and they knew him."

— Luke 24:30-31 (KJV)

Two disciples are walking home from the city, heads down, hearts heavy. A stranger joins them. He listens. Then he begins to open the scriptures to them, slowly, beginning with Moses. Their hearts burn. When they reach the village they ask him to stay. He takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it — and in that moment of breaking, they see. He vanishes. They run all the way back to Jerusalem in the dark. Sometimes the Lord is closest when we have not yet recognized him.

"And while they looked stedfastly toward heaven as he went up, behold, two men stood by them in white apparel; Which also said, Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? this same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go."

— Acts 1:9-11 (KJV)

Forty days after the resurrection, on this hill above Jerusalem, the risen Christ blesses his disciples and is carried up out of their sight. Angels stand by them and tell them the same Jesus will return as he left. The disciples descend with great joy. The Lord is not gone — he has only gone before. The Spirit will come at Pentecost to dwell in them, and through them in every household where Christ is named. The story has not ended. It has been given to us.

"Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. Amen."

— Matthew 28:19-20 (KJV)

We end where the journey began — on a mountain in Galilee, where the Lord had once preached the Beatitudes. The risen Christ stands now where the teacher had stood. He sends out the few who have followed him to the very ends of the earth. Make disciples of all nations. Baptize them in the threefold name. Teach them what I have taught you. And know this — I am with you always. The walk we have just taken together began in Bethlehem; it does not end on this mountain. It continues, every day, in your house, in your work, in your prayer. Amen.