First of all, it’s crowded as hell in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, or at least it was the two times I went in. Given the fact that the Greeks control much of it, the Church is not a terribly quiet place. Even if it were not full of Asian tour groups, I think this would still be the case. As it is, the place can feel like one more box on a list to be checked off. Golgatha? Check. Stone of Unction? Check. Tomb? Check.
That tomb itself is especially busy. Everybody needs to see what’s not in there. We give Thomas a hard time for doubting, but Peter and John did not buy the story until it actually came to pass. So why should’t every tourist who might also be Christian (or at least Christ-curious) not get the same chance to see for himself or herself whether or not there is something in that tomb.
Assuming he or she has the time to wait in line, a luxury which your’s truly did not have. Others coming out did attest to the fact that, aside from the monks stationed in there, the tomb is, in fact, empty. If it were not, I doubt that the Greeks would have put on the elaborate display of gold and silver, of insence and oil lamps that they use to mark the spot. Our eastern brothers and sisters are good about engaging all your senses in the church-going experience.
Which leads to a different kind of belief that the 45 minute sermonizing of my Presbyterian roots. That was an approach that encouraged one to think his way into right action, to convince me with logic to behave morally so as to know God. The Greek approach is to know, or at least experience Him, so that I can act may way into right thinking. And by right thinking I do not mean a given political or social agenda. I mean that knowledge that I am in this world, that this world is alive, and that life is good. All the time.