“Then Simon Peter, who was behind him, arrived and went into the tomb. He saw the strips of linen lying there, as well as the burial cloth that had been around Jesus’ head. The cloth was folded up by itself, separate from the linen.” John 20:6-7
APRIL 11, 2010 – I followed my wife and son through the massive wooden doors. The Cathedral of San Giovanni Battista was filled with people, and yet, a reverent silence filled the cavernous room. Many knelt in pews praying. Others stood in silent wonder, gazing at the warm glow that emanated from the front of the church. A feeling of expectation overwhelmed me. We were about to witness a true mystery—The Shroud of Turin.
The line moved slowly to the front of the church. We stopped and waited. Then again. And then it was our turn. Our group stepped in front of the Shroud. It hung behind heavy glass, a long sepia-colored cloth adorned by a thick wooden frame. I allowed my eyes to roam over the details. I knew every inch of the thirteen foot relic by heart. Every bloodstain, crease and fold. And the image of the body was perfect. Subtle. Difficult to distinguish, but there. From the wounded wrists and feet, to the bloody scalp and spear-pierced side, every detail rang true, clearly pointing to the scriptures. To Christ’s passion. His terrible death.
I fought to compose myself. For thirty years I had waited for that moment, studied its history and the evidence it contains. Given lecture after lecture. Defended its authenticity before Christians and non-Christians alike. But as I stood before The Shroud I found myself in awe, wondering as I had so many times before…Is it the Lord? Is this really his shroud?
And then it hit me…it didn’t matter. Either way, my faith in Christ was secure. But what did matter, I realized, were the years of wonder and curiosity that had led me to that moment. The innocent pursuit of a young man that had begun in his professor’s office so many years before. For in my search for the truth about The Shroud I had gained deep understanding. Knowledge of what my Savior had accomplished for me. Knowledge to share with others of the depth and magnitude of Christ’s love.
Did we stand before his shroud that day? The same one Peter found as he entered Christ’s tomb on that first Easter morning? We’ll never know. Not on this side of Heaven. But for me it no longer matters. Jesus suffered, he was crucified, and he rose again to conquer death. And if he left his image on a cloth to remind us of what he had accomplished, so be it. Either way my faith is secure. The Shroud of Turin remains a mystery, but for me there is still no doubt that Jesus Christ is risen. He is the Lord.
Pat Patterson is a writer, a photographer, a paramedic, a volunteer chaplain, and an instructor of Emergency Medical Science. He is the author of Answering the Call. Pat’s stories are true, based on real experiences from the streets of Durham, North Carolina where he served as a street paramedic for seventeen years. Contact Pat at psquare@nc.rr.com.
Pat is a winner of the Blue Ridge Christian Writers Conference.
Read Pat’s devotions.