“Rejoice, and give praise together, O ye deserts of Jerusalem: for the Lord hath comforted his people: he hath redeemed Jerusalem. The Lord hath prepared his holy arm in the sight of all the Gentiles: and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God.”
Isaiah 52, 9-10
Occasionally, the
written word simply cannot convey what transpires inside us in moments of
intense gravitas or emotion. Not because
they are inadequate or unworthy – but, rather because too often we are not
entirely sure of what we are experiencing ourselves and, therefore, do not know
what words to even use. Such was the
initial impression I had as I approached, at long last, the threshold of the
Holy Sepulchre and tread – as so many had before me – upon the ground where a
Godman had bled. It’s a humbling
experience – not knowing *what* to say in a particular moment. So many had come to this place as I had,
endured hardships and privations I could not even imagine, shifted entire
populations, commanded armies, fought ferocious wars, changed history,
permanently altered the entire fabric of humanity, all for this place … and,
suddenly, there it was – wedged tightly between the incredibly old mud
brick buildings, it’s original façade from the 12th Century showing
the obvious signs of its incredibly turbulent past, as if to say to me, “Here I
am, as I have always been – what else did you expect?” I imagine if I am ever fortunate enough to
meet the Godman who died and was buried here in Person, it will probably be a
very similar sort of meeting
