There is, as can be imagined, much to interest a Bible student in the bustling, modern city of Jerusalem. We tour the sobering Yad Vashem, the heart-rending Holocaust Memorial, complete with its Avenue of Righteous Gentiles, those who helped the Jews, often at the cost of their own lives. We see the Shrine of the Book where the Dead Sea Scrolls are displayed. We are overjoyed to see the focal point is a replica of the scroll of Isaiah, on which God has provided the most graphic depiction of their suffering Messiah. Yet the veil remains on so many of their hearts.
Other stops will include the Knesset, the Israeli parliament, badly divided over the solutions to the grim problems this country faces. We will visit the helpful large scale model of New Testament Jerusalem at the Holyland Hotel. And of course we would not miss meeting to break bread Lord’s day morning with a handful of believers who carry on a little testimony here for Him.
Our panoramic view of Jerusalem from the east is from the commanding heights of the Mount of Olives, obviously named for the silvery-leafed olive trees that once covered its flanks. From here we can trace the Lord’s last week before the cross–Bethany, the Temple court, the Eastern Gate for the dress rehearsal for His triumphal entry, the Upper Room, Gethsemane, the high priest’s house, the Antonia Fortress, Herod’s palace, back to Gabbatha, Golgotha, the grave, and finally from here–the glory! But we remember the words of the angels: “This same Jesus…”
This was the mount of our Saviour’s weeping. On the eastern shoulder is Bethany, where the Lord of life wept at the grave of one He loved. Surely it was not because this death had occurred for He could have prevented it and would soon reverse it. No, it seems He wept that day in sympathy, weeping with those who weep.
On cresting the brow one day, He wept at the heartless antipathy of Jerusalem to the call of the Lord. “How often would I,” He lamented, “but ye would not.” They would have Herod the fox (who also loved Israel’s little chickens) rather than the mother hen.
Then, with the shadow of Calvary across His soul, He wept “with strong crying and tears” in the garden called “the olive press.” He was anticipating the crushing of the olive berry that we might have the sweet ministration of its oil. The Spirit, who comes to us through the triumph of the cross, brings, like the oil, healing, food, warmth, light, and anointing. How will we ever thank our God enough for Gethsemane and Golgotha?