The Gardener

Scripture Lessons: Psalm 118: 1-2, 14-24 and John 20: 1-18 Sermon Title: The Gardener Preached on April 17, 2022 What was it about Jesus that Easter morning so long ago that made Mary think He was the gardener? Are there ever gardeners in graveyards? Of course there are. Just think about it. There are trees and grass and birds. I know because I was running through the Marietta City Cemetery, and a bird dropped something on my forehead from one of those trees just a couple weeks ago. Someone has to care for those trees, and someone should be hunting those birds, but to the point, think about how much life there is in a place like the Mountain View Park Cemetery Oakland Cemetery downtown counts on at least 40 volunteer gardeners who prune, weed, plant, and manicure the grounds. Likewise, there’s a cemetery in Philadelphia that had to cap the number of volunteer gardeners at 150 because there were so many who wanted to help. Why do they do it? One said, “Working in a cemetery gives you lots of thoughts. Your day-to-day issues don’t seem as big because you’re reminded life is so fleeting.” Another volunteer who tended every day for a full year what’s called a cradle grave, which looks like a mix between a headstone and bathtub or a raised bed garden, described her gardening of graves as “really weird but also really nice.” I think I get it, and knowing a little bit about Jesus, I can imagine that Jesus looked like the kind of person who might volunteer to tend the plants in a graveyard because He was all the time bringing life to the dead places. That’s what He did. You remember. There was a woman at a well in the middle of the day. Why did she go there under the noonday sun instead of in the cool of the morning with everyone else? It’s because she’d had five husbands, and no one wanted to be seen with her, yet Jesus goes to this woman and asked her for a drink. Then, He provided her with living water. There was also a man named Legion, for he was not possessed by one or two demons, but an entire legion of them. The village kept him chained up among the tombs because he was uncontrollable; from time to time he would shout out at the top of his voice, yet Jesus went to this man and healed him. Who else was there? There was a woman named Mary. Rev. Cassie Waits preached about her a couple weeks ago. What had Jesus done for her? Why would she anoint His feet with $45,000 worth of perfume and wipe them with her hair? How else can you thank the man who saw you in that dark place and brought you back to the light? What else are you to do when you’d been lost but now are found? All the time, this Man was bringing life to the dead places. All the time, He was saving the lost. All the time, He was walking into the darkness bringing light, so it only makes sense that Mary Magdalene thought He was a gardener in a graveyard. That was His thing: bringing life to dead places, but He was also ever so much more than that. This morning, on the cover of your bulletin is an ancient icon from the Orthodox Christian tradition, which spread from the Eastern part of the Roman Empire: through Greece, Turkey, Russia, and is today the primary religion in Ukraine. This resurrected Jesus on your bulletin looks different from many of the artistic Easter renderings that we’ve grown used to. We tend to focus our art on how empty the tomb was that Easter morning, but notice what all the Eastern Orthodox Church remembers was down in there. The pit is full of chains, locks, keys, and a man tied up. Jesus stands triumphant on those two rectangles. Look closely at the picture. Jesus is standing on two brown rectangles laying across each other. What are they? They are the gates of Hell, which He has broken. What are the keys and locks down in that darkness? Can you see them? They are the locks and chains that used to hold so many captive. And who is that still down there but Satan himself, for now the one who held so many captive is bound and helpless. That’s what Jesus was doing in those days before He rose, for when we say in the Apostles’ Creed, He descended into Hell, we know that the Gardener was even bringing life down there. Even in Hell, He was doing what He always does, for the Gardener brings life to the places of death and liberates those trapped in darkness by the light of His love. That’s why He broke the doors to Hell and stands on them triumphant. It’s so that those who are trapped in suffering might find freedom, and this Easter Sunday service, viewed by the residents of the Cobb County Jail, I say it to you most clearly: Jesus is in the business of setting people free. The Gardener brings light and life to those places of shadow and concrete. He breaks through walls and bends back steel bars by His power to set the captives of sin and death free, yet how many in the Church believe that Jesus is in the business of sending people to such places of darkness and confinement? I once knew a man who said the preachers he’d grown up with made sure he knew all about the pit, and so there wasn’t any question of whether he was going to Hell, it was just a matter of when. Back in Tennessee, a church I’d drive past often put up on the marquee every year in the middle of August, “Sinners, you think it’s hot now?” Come on now. Don’t we know Who the Gardener is? Haven’t we learned by now the purpose of His mission? To roll back the stones that keep us confined to the shadows. To break the chains that have us isolated and trapped in the tombs. To bring life back to the places of death. To bring light to our shadows and hope to our despair. That’s who He is. Have you seen Him? We know that, at first, Mary had trouble recognizing Him. That happens with gardeners; they don’t always get our full attention. I once worked as a gardener in Buckhead. It was just after I had graduated college. I’d been accepted to graduate school and was trying to make a little money before I started. I was just finishing up in this woman’s driveway, raking a pile of leaves, when I heard her say to her kids, “That’s why you need to go to college, so you don’t have to work like that guy.” I wish I had had my diploma with me, but my point is that we do this all the time. Not only do we go past gardeners, garbage men, mail carriers, or waitresses without recognizing them as children of God, we go through life failing to see the Gardener bringing life to the places of death. It’s like we expect to see the Grim Reaper or the judge, and don’t know what to do with the Gardener, so we just look right over Him, yet there He is, knocking down the doors of our despair, for He is risen. He is risen indeed. The Gardener is walking around here right now. Have you seen Him? COVID-19 kept us under house arrest, but now we are out, free from that isolation, for He is risen. He is risen indeed. Also, if we are singing next to someone today who watches a different cable news show than we do and votes for people on the other side of the aisle, then He is breaking down the walls of division in our midst. You see, He is risen. He is risen indeed. In the news, I just heard that the strong man’s ship got sunk. I also heard how much kindness the Ukrainian refugees are meeting as they cross the border into neighboring countries. I met a missionary couple just last Friday who lives in Hungry and invited a Ukrainian family to live in their house while they spend Easter here in the States. How do you explain that kind of compassion? I’ll tell you. He is risen. He is risen indeed. Likewise, you may have noticed that our stained glass window is under construction. The wood around it had been rotting for years. I heard the cost of repair one morning, and the price tag scared me much more than the thought of having this old wooden cross up on Easter Sunday, only later that same week, a couple members of this church called prepared to give this church a financial gift. “Did we have anything that needed doing?” they asked, and right then, one couple funded the whole repair. This kind of miracle happens all the time, for the Gardener is walking all around bringing life to the places of death. You see, He is risen. He is risen indeed, and we need to get better at expecting to see Him so that we don’t miss Him. Life changes when you expect the resurrection. Two weeks ago, we had to put our 16-year-old dog down. Her name was Lucy. 16 years is a long time to have a dog, and we told our daughters we couldn’t get a puppy until Lucy died, which planted a seed of resentment towards Lucy. In fact, Lily had given up on Lucy ever dying. She would say that she hated the thought of coming back from college and her still being there. In fact, she joked how Lucy would probably rise from the dead on Easter Sunday. Well, yesterday, Sara and I picked up a stray dog on the side of the street, and when we brought that dog in the house, we yelled, “She is risen!” and Lily screamed and got up on top of a chair because the resurrection is not beyond the realm of possibility. Now, that’s not exactly how it works, but miraculous things are happening around us all the time. We just need to have the eyes to see them. I heard about a little girl who begged her parents for a guinea pig for a full two years. Last Friday, she got one. This morning, I read about a wife who forgave her ex-husband - and the other woman. Once we know what to look for, we see Him everywhere. He is the Light in the darkness. The Hope of the hopeless. The Gardener in the graveyard. For He is risen. He is risen indeed. Alleluia. Amen.