Jerusalem - Old City Walls, The Garden Tomb

Suleiman I was the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire from 1520 to 1566, and during his long reign, he expanded and enriched the empire by military conquests, political reform, and cultural enhancement through the arts.  In his day and in modern reference, he is known as Suleiman the Magnificent, and in all my fifteen minutes of research on this guy, I can’t determine if that nickname was bestowed upon him or if he gave it to himself.  There’s a huge difference between those two scenarios, just ask any dude, and the history of the Ottoman Empire would read differently depending on the real story.  As far as nicknames go, The Magnificent sounds way better than The Flatulent or G-Money, so he could have done worse, but I’m still having a hard time getting past the fact that in several paintings that depict Suleiman, he looks just like a painter I had on a crew years ago named Ricky.  All Ricky wanted out of life was a trailer and a piece of land on which to place it, and unlike many others in my circle of sophisticates at that time, at least he had a goal.  Suleiman’s aspirations were slightly higher, and in 1535, he decided to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem, a project which took three years and the the results of which still encompass the Old City today.

We discovered that for a small fee, one can purchase a ticket that gains entrance to the northern and southern sections of the Jerusalem walls and allows for a walk along the ramparts.  This activity sounded like great fun, so after a Saturday morning of school work, we loaded up and walked to the Jaffa Gate to buy our tickets.  There are several places to exit the ramparts along the way including the major gates of the city, and we figured we would descend the steps of the Damascus Gate, which would place us in the vicinity of our main destination for the day, the Garden Tomb.  For the first time since we’ve been in Jerusalem, the sky was deep blue instead of rainy grey, and the piercing wind had abated to a soft breeze.  When I was a kid, I loved stories of castles and knights and their deeds of chivalry, and the walk on the top of the Jerusalem walls was the fulfillment of an adolescent dream as we climbed five-hundred-year-old stairs, made twists and turns around the turrets, and enjoyed unique views of the Old City all along the watchtower.

In many areas of the ramparts all we could see were the rooftops of homes rigged with satellite dishes and solar-powered water heaters, but other sections opened up to views of the crowded market streets and eventually across the city to the Dome of the Rock.  We reached the Damascus Gate and descended to the streets of the Old City. We all agreed that the rampart walk was one of the coolest activities we’ve done on the trip.  We had a five-minute stroll away from the Damascus Gate to the Garden Tomb which we found easily, and the nice lady at the gate gave us brochures and welcomed us inside.  The Garden Tomb is privately owned by a Christian organization in Great Britain, and while they request donations, admission to the site is free.  We had just sat down on a bench near the entrance to get our bearings when an English bloke came loping by with great strides and bid us to join his group which had just begun their tour.

We sat in a small gazebo and paid rapt attention as the tour guide, Martin, began his talk, and he filled his small stage with the range of a Shakespearean actor as he told the story of the Garden Tomb in the context of the Gospels.  Martin was in his seventies, tall and lanky with a shock of grey hair and bushy eyebrows that stuck out over his steel framed glasses. He chose members of the group to be certain characters in the story (Deena was Mary mother of the Lord, just sayin’), and he asked us all questions to keep us on our toes as he rolled his r’s and told us about the resurrection.  All the while, the hill that looks a lot like a skull was in the background, which is the landmark that led to the discovery of the tomb in the 1880s.  After his mesmerizing talk, Martin led us to the Garden Tomb by way of a two-thousand year old wine press and had us sit along the wall on the far side of the cut cliff face.  Being the youngest in the group, Deveny was chosen to represent a rolling stone as Martin demonstrated how the tomb would have been sealed. Then we all had the opportunity to go inside the tomb and check out the design which is spot on the description in the Bible.  The tour group was from Ohio, and they were very nice as well as curious about our trip and the places we had visited so far, and they allowed us to go inside the tomb first—very gracious.  

We left the peaceful grounds of the Garden Tomb and walked back into the Old City through the Damascus Gate and roamed the narrow streets of the Christian Quarter for a while looking for a place to eat an early supper.  We wandered into an Arabic restaurant that looked like a crypt with curved ceiling, stone-covered walls, and low, incandescent lighting.  For about twenty dollars, we devoured a feast of roast chicken, falafel, warm pita bread, salad, and bowls of savory sauces.  It was about 4:30 when we ate supper, and we were full for the rest of the evening.  As we headed back out of the Old City through the Jaffa Gate, we passed the eager groups of pilgrims waiting in front of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre on the way.  

Winepress

Deveny the rolling stone

The empty tomb

We’ve now visited two possible locations of Jesus’ crucifixion, burial, and resurrection. After a lot of research and thought about each one, I could care less if the smart archeological guys ever determine where it was, and I hope they never do.  For all its historical intrigue, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre is strange, gaudy, spiritually oppressive, and with the infighting of all the denominations within its walls, a poor example of living in the light of Jesus’ sacrifice.  The Garden Tomb is peaceful, lines up with scripture, and is a true first-century tomb, but the staff is quick to point out that there’s no way to definitively prove that it was the tomb of Jesus.  On the morning of the resurrection, the men at the tomb, who were dressed in clothes that gleamed like lightning asked the women, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?  He is not here; he has risen!”  Indeed, and that’s all that matters in a world that needs the hope provided by the empty tomb instead of archeological surety.  While a pilgrimage to the Holy Land is a tremendous opportunity and blessing, it’s also an inspiration to go deeper into the instruction and encouragement with which Jesus left us, and may it be so for my little family.

We enjoyed our afternoon walking along the ramparts of the walls rebuilt by Suleiman the Magnificent, and while looking up information about his architectural feats, I found another interesting historical tidbit.  The Lion's Gate on the east side of the old city has carvings of animals that are either leopards, tigers, or lions depending on which source one decides to trust, and the structure was built by either Suleiman or his predecessor, Selim 1.  The legend I like the best is the one in which Suleiman dreamed of being devoured by lions as a result of his anger at the non payment of taxes by the citizens of Jerusalem.  In order to keep the dream from coming true, he built the Lions Gate to better protect the city from invaders.  The gate is still imposing to this day, and would certainly have been less impressive had Suleiman dreamt of consumption by rock-rabbits instead of lions.