The Blooming

“The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad;

    the desert shall rejoice and blossom;

like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly

    and rejoice with joy and shouting.

The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it,

    the majesty of Carmel and Sharon.

They shall see the glory of the Lord,

    the majesty of our God…

For waters shall break forth in the wilderness

    and streams in the desert;

the burning sand shall become a pool

    and the thirsty ground springs of water;

the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp;

    the grass shall become reeds and rushes.

A highway shall be there,

    and it shall be called the Holy Way;

the unclean shall not travel on it,

    but it shall be for God’s people;

    no traveler, not even fools, shall go astray.

No lion shall be there,

    nor shall any ravenous beast come up on it;

they shall not be found there,

    but the redeemed shall walk there.

And the ransomed of the Lord shall return

    and come to Zion with singing;

everlasting joy shall be upon their heads;

    they shall obtain joy and gladness,

    and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.”

-Isaiah 35:1-2, 6b-10

The entire first summer after we moved to our current house with its little garden plot in the backyard saw Iris jump out of the car each afternoon and rush to the garden to see what new thing had sprouted, which new blooms had opened up, and which tomatoes or pea pods had finally ripened. I honestly don’t think that Rachael or I got to eat a single thing that year because Iris would eat anything ripe straight from the vine. 

That’s the point of a garden–growth, nourishment, blossoming, flourishing. That’s also the point of the resurrection! It’s not just salvation, it’s transformation. Our final scripture for this week is Isaiah’s eschatological vision (I know that’s a fancy word, “eschatology” pertains to the end of time, so this scripture is Isaiah’s vision of where all of creation is ultimately going). At the end of all things, the wilderness does not merely endure; it blossoms. Streams break forth in the arid desert, and what seemed barren is suddenly radiant with life. The arid desert suddenly becomes a garden in full bloom, extravagant in its abundance. 

This is what Jesus spoke of when he said, “I have come that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” Resurrection is not mere recovery. That first Easter morning did not return the world to where it was before, but brought a profound change. Resurrection is the beginning of new creation, the overflowing beauty of God’s promise made visible in a world that had been marked by grief, hatred, and loss.

A garden is at its most wonderful when it is in full bloom. Blooming is the moment when hidden life becomes visible. Something that looked plain, buried, or lifeless reveals what it was becoming all along. This is what happened and is still happening on Easter. On Good Friday and Holy Saturday, all seemed lost. Hope had been cut down. The tomb sealed what looked like the end of Jesus’ story. But Easter reveals that God had not abandoned the world to death. Life was at work in secret. The resurrection is the blossoming of what God had long promised: not simply the restoration of one life, but the renewal of all things. The risen Christ is the first bloom of a world being made new. 

There is still much work to be done, but take some time today to rest and rejoice in the signs of new creation that surround us this season.

Rev. Ryan Young