The Garden
Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb…she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, “Do not touch me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’ ” Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord,” and she told them that he had said these things to her. (John 20:1,14b-18)
I’ve spent the past two weekends working the garden in my backyard with my family. We’ve been preparing and planting for the summer growing season. This year we’re painting tomatoes, which we plant every year, but the kids also decided they wanted to try growing carrots, summer squash, and watermelons, things we’ve never tried before. I admit that I am a rather poor gardener. ADD is a terrible companion to a practice that requires regular, sustained attention, but I keep at it year after year because it’s become a kind of spiritual discipline. Even if I do everything right, the end product is not up to me. The plants sprout or they don’t. They flower when they will. Bearing fruit is entirely dependent upon an ecosystem of pollinators and environmental factors that I do not control. It’s a great practice for building patience, humility, and trust.
Since my mind has been occupied with my garden for the past few weeks, I figured I might as well use it as our devotion theme this week. The scriptures are full of agrarian themes and it would do well for us to examine them from time to time–especially those of us whose connection to produce only goes as far as the grocery aisles. After all, Easter begins in a garden.
Mary comes to the tomb while it is still dark, carrying her deep grief and confusion. And she discovers that death has not had the last word. In that first resurrection morning, she mistakes the risen Christ for the gardener…and she’s not entirely wrong. From the beginning, gardens are important places of beauty where new life is cultivated. I mean, the scriptures begin with God planting a garden. So it is fitting that the resurrection is revealed there, in a place where buried things sprout forth in new growth. Easter does not erase the reality of sorrow and death, but it declares that in Christ, God is already bringing new life out of what seemed finished.
That is why the image of the garden is such a fitting way to reflect during the week after Easter. Gardens teach us that life comes slowly, often invisibly at first, and always as gift. Seeds are buried before they rise. Soil must be turned. Weeds must be cleared. Tender shoots must be watered and tended. In much the same way, resurrection is not only something we celebrate once a year, but something we learn to live amidst every day. The risen Christ meets us in the ordinary work of hope, patience, and trust, shaping our lives into signs of God’s new creation. As we move through this week, the garden will help us see more clearly what Easter means: that God is still at work bringing beauty, fruitfulness, and life where we feared only loss remained.
Rev. Ryan Young
