By Danny Minton

It was a beautiful Sunday morning with a crystal-clear sky, the birds singing joyfully in the trees, children playing, and the warmth of the sun glistening off the morning dew. As he stepped through the Garden Gate, the first thing he did was glance up the hill a few hundred yards to his right. His eyes and ears temporarily blocked out the beauty around him as he paused to look and remember.

There on the hill stood three posts. They stood only around seven feet tall, but for some reason today they seemed much taller. Maybe it was because the crossbars had been removed from the top. Then again, maybe it was because the signs nailed to the tops were still visible. 

He walked slowly toward the hill and noticed a few other people sitting around. As he approached the posts, he could read the signs. Written on each of them was a name. He did not know them. Two of them simply had a name and under it the word “thief.” 

The third was different. He remembered it because it was the only one that was written three times in three different languages. He paused and stared quietly. 

It was only a few days before that he stood in the same place. Unlike today, it was dark and dreary. The crossbars were in place, holding three men who had been accused of crimes and condemned to die. He could still see the Roman soldiers walking by, mocking the man in the middle, enjoying the time to humiliate him. 

Then he again noticed the sign. He remembered the last time he read it; he had looked into the eyes of the man below it before they moved to what was written. “Jesus the Nazarene, the King of the Jews.” King! Why would you crucify a king, he thought? He could not get the picture of what took place from his mind.

This morning the poles stood empty. If you had not been there a few nights before, you might not have even noticed them since they are always there waiting for the next victims to walk to their execution. Yes, they will be used again, but this morning they look different. There was something about that day, the darkness, the crowd, some crying, others yelling insults. It wasn’t the same as other executions. Then he remembered the whisper he heard from someone in the crowd that night. “I  heard that he told those men who followed around with him that he’d be back.” “Be back,” he thought. What could that mean? All that was obvious now was that the posts were empty.

He turned and walked away from the hill, away from the posts and signs, and looked across the garden around fifty yards away. There was another group gathering in the area where bodies are buried. His curiosity urged him to move toward the area to see what was happening. Some were crying since it seemed someone had robbed a grave. 

He asked someone whose grave had been robbed. “The one whose sign said, ‘King of the Jews.” He thought they must be wrong. That tomb was sealed and guarded by the Roman soldiers. He saw other soldiers escort those guards off, berating them for not doing their job. Then he remembered the whisper from the crowd, “He said he’d be back.” He stood there looking at a tomb, seal broken, stone rolled to the side, and empty. He turned and looked at the hill and the posts standing tall on this bright sunny morning. He couldn’t read the sign from there, but he remembered the words, “Jesus the Nazarene, the King of the Jews.” He turned again and looked at the empty grave. 

He turned and walked away, puzzled and confused about everything that had taken place. He would hear other rumors around town, but he did not realize that in less than two months the secret would be revealed, proclaiming to the world that the Messiah had risen from the dead and left a message of hope and promise. It would be preached that the cross was empty, because the sacrifice made upon it had been offered for the sins of man. The tomb too was empty, because the Messiah had arisen to fulfill the promise of eternal hope. A promise that one day the gate would open to a different garden, one prepared for all who believe in the presence of God. 

From that day on, the man would walk through the Garden Gate many more times. However, the view, the place people called Golgotha, the “Place of the Skull,” would never look the same. He would never again walk that way without looking at the hill and turning to the tomb. It would be a memory imprinted in his mind.

Whenever you step into the sanctuary of your place of worship, take a moment to look at the emblems of communion. Pause and give thought to what they stand for and the promise they represent. Never forget the empty cross and empty tomb. Especially never forget the man in the middle, the one who emptied himself, and as Mark reminds us, “For even the Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life, a ransom of many.” Mark 10:45

Danny Minton, a member of Southern Hills Church of Christ, is a hospital chaplain