Between Two Gardens
“They went to a place called
Gethsemane; and Jesus said to his disciples, ‘Sit here while I pray.’ Jesus came and found them sleeping; and he said
to Peter, ‘Simon, are you asleep? Could
you not keep awake one hour? Keep awake
and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is
willing, but the flesh is weak.’” Mark
14:32, 37-38
It is the middle of Lent and
the beginning of Spring, and I have been thinking about Gardens. The warmth of the sun and the song of the
birds, have caused me to start planning what I will plant in my garden,
visualizing what it will look like with all its color and fullness.
Typically, Wilderness is the
geography of Lent, but I think the Garden is also. The Bible is full of Gardens and many of them are places of
challenge as well as blessing. The
Garden of Eden is certainly such a place:
a lush place full of life and promise, but a place of boundaries and
challenge.
This passage from Mark’s
gospel describes Jesus’ agony in the Garden of Gethsemane hours before he is
arrested and crucified. We feel echoes
of Gethsemane on Easter morning, when Mary mistakes Jesus for the Gardner at
the empty tomb: resurrection occurs
somewhere in-between these two Gardens.
The Church reads the
Gethsemane story on Good Friday, so one might ask, why are we considering it in
the middle of Lent? We need the
encouragement and challenge of Jesus’ words to the disciples as we struggle to
pray, to stay awake, to remain here in this season of penance and
self-examination. It is the middle of
Lent, and the resolve we had on Ash Wednesday is waning, or maybe gone
altogether. We have found it difficult
to stay awake to the reality of who we are in our humanness and weakness. Our spirits are indeed willing, but our
flesh is weak. The good news is that
Jesus keeps coming back to us, to rouse us from our sleep. He keeps issuing the invitation to remain
with him in the Garden.
This week I have found
myself humming a familiar Taize chant while I work in my garden: “Stay with me, remain here with me, watch
and pray. Watch and pray.” As I form the words to this chant, I am
aware of a Presence who is in the garden with me. I can’t tell who is singing to whom.
Prayer: Jesus, you are indeed the Gardner of my
soul. May newness of life spring forth
from me as it does from the earth, this very day. Amen.
--Peace, Mona