Behold! The Resurrection Changes Everything!

A Journal Entry from Jerusalem: A Personal Resurrection Walk

In 2022, I was honored to take a class in Israel through Jerusalem University College. I came alive to the Bible in ways I never thought possible. I kept a journal during my time there so I wouldn’t forget the impact. On Day 3, I wrote:

“After waking with stiff joints and a blister on my toe, I strapped on my water bottle, grabbed my bag, and threw on a hat to shield my sunburnt forehead. Our professor, Dr. John “Jack” Beck, lit up when he explained that the JUC building we stood in was part of the original 1st-century Jerusalem city wall. 🤯”

We visited the Upper Room—quiet, rebuilt, but stirring. But I cried when I stepped outside and saw the horizon of Jerusalem. I imagined Jesus looking out across the city just hours before His arrest. What must He have felt, knowing what was to come?

Later, we stood on the exact steps where Pilate may have convicted Jesus. The stones beneath our feet were original. I stood silently, wondering: Was I in the place of the raging crowd? A Roman soldier? Or was this where Jesus stood, silent and surrendered?

Then came the part that undid me. We stopped in what looked like an ordinary alley—lined with dumpsters and small cafés. Our professor told us it had once been a quarry surrounded by tombs. And what do you do with an old quarry surrounded by graves? You turn it into a place of execution.

“The realization hit: Jesus might have been crucified right here.”

We entered the Church of the Holy Sepulchre soon after. It was crowded, noisy, and overwhelming. But tucked away in a side room was a first-century tomb—quiet, blackened stone, real. We took turns crouching inside, and the weight of Jesus’ death fell heavy on our hearts. When we later knelt at the traditional slab where His body is said to have rested, we were quiet, sobered, but not defeated.

“I walked out of that church deeply aware of the cost Jesus paid—but also full of joy that He loved us enough to give up His life.

Behold the Waiting: When All Feels Lost

Imagine how the disciples must have felt when they heard the news that Jesus had given up his last breath.

Imagine Mary’s grief…Mary and Martha’s heartbreak….and Mary Magdalene’s sorrow.

Put yourself in their shoes on that first Holy Saturday. A day that looked like total silence. A world with no Jesus in it.

The Kingdom they had clung to now seemed to fade into the shadows.

It looked like the end of hope.

And yet… something was brewing. Something was slowly turning to life, buried in that tomb. Something was coming.

On this Holy Saturday, sit in the seat of those who had to wait—who didn’t even know they were waiting. When we find ourselves waiting for God to move, it’s easy to grow impatient, hopeless, or numb. And yet…

God comes. Like He always has. Like He always will.

Praise be to the One who Comes, Who waits with us, Who rises for us—Jesus, our Lord and Savior.

Praise His Name, even while waiting.

Behold the Empty Tomb: When Silence Turns to Recognition

John tells us that he saw and believed—not because of a loud proclamation—but simply because he saw the grave clothes lying there (John 20:8). His faith didn’t start with Scripture; it began with a simple moment of realization: Jesus is not here.

“He is not here, for He has risen, just as He said.” – Matthew 28:6

I mentioned earlier about that hush—the stone tomb, the light, the possibility. You and I, too, are invited to behold the quiet places and ask: What tomb have I been staring into, assuming death, while God has already brought life?

Mary stood outside the tomb weeping. Angels spoke to her, but it wasn’t until Jesus said her name—Mary—that she recognized Him (John 20:16).

This part of the story always brings me to my knees. I’ve felt that moment, too—when all the noise fades, and Jesus gently whispers your name, and suddenly, it all becomes clear.

Maybe this Easter, instead of rushing through the story, He’s asking you to pause. To stay at the tomb just a moment longer. To hear Him call you—not generically, but specifically. Tenderly. As only a Shepherd can.

Have you heard Him say your name lately? 

Behold Your Doubts And Bring Them Anyway

Thomas missed the first resurrection appearance, and when the others told him, he didn’t fake faith. Thomas said, “Unless I see the nail marks… I will not believe.” (John 20:25)

Jesus showed up for that.

Eight days later, Jesus came just for Thomas—and invited him to see and touch the scars. He didn’t scold. He said, “Stop doubting and believe.” And Thomas responded with the most complete declaration in all the gospels: “My Lord and my God.”

Linger here for a bit.  Thanks be to God for the grace of a Savior who meets us right there! If you’ve ever felt like you’re too late, skeptical, or unsure, Thomas is your reminder that Jesus isn’t intimidated by honest questions.

Bring your doubts to the risen Christ. He still bears the marks that prove His love.

Behold the Restoration: Breakfast on the Beach

John 21 paints the most gentle scene—Jesus, on the shore, with a crackling fire and a breakfast of fish grilling. The disciples are back in their boats. They’ve gone back to what they knew before.

But Jesus calls to them—not with judgment, but with welcome: “Come and have breakfast.” (John 21:12) (In my heart, I feel like there should be an exclamation at the end of this verse, and that Jesus has an ear-to-ear grin on His face. )

I think about Peter, the one who denied Him three times, and how Jesus didn’t corner him or call him out in front of the group. Instead, He pulled him close and asked, “Do you love Me?” three times—a question for each denial.

When I stood on those first-century streets and touched the stones outside the Church of the Holy Sepulchre… when I looked up at the old ladder still resting against the window ledge… when I saw the forgotten street with trees and trash and traffic—I was overwhelmed by the grace of restoration. That the most sacred act in history could take place in an ordinary street. That a King would still choose to meet us on familiar shores and cook us breakfast.

Jesus doesn’t just rise. He comes to restore.

Behold Your Mission: Sent as He Was Sent

After everything—the empty tomb, the personal recognition, the restored calling—Jesus says this:

“As the Father has sent Me, I am sending you.” (John 20:21)

Resurrection always leads to sending.

In Jerusalem, after visiting the tombs and crouching beside that ancient stone, we walked back through the city, winding toward the southern steps of the Temple. The sun was hot, our feet were tired, and yet our professor’s words stirred something new in us. We sat there—where Peter once stood—and listened to one of my fellow students read Acts 2 aloud.

It was as if the words were fresh all over again:

“God has raised this Jesus to life, and we are all witnesses of it.” (Acts 2:32)

We are still witnesses.

Behold Moments This Easter

So what do we do with all this?

How do we carry the resurrection beyond Sunday?

Here are a few gentle invitations this week:

• Sit quietly with John 20–21. Let the scenes breathe. Don’t rush.

• Write down a “Behold Moment.” Where did Jesus meet you this week? A whisper, a word, a moment of clarity?

• Welcome Him with intention. Light a candle, take communion at home with your family, or break bread with a friend.

• Go outside and walk. Resurrection began in a garden. Let the breeze, the trees, and the ordinary things remind you that life is being made new.

He Is Risen. And That Changes Everything.

The tomb is still empty.
He’s still calling names.
Still restoring hearts.
Still sending His people.

So, beloved—

Behold your King. Alive. Intentional. And waiting for you by the shore.