An otherwise ordinary act had particular poignancy for those of us who gathered here on Good Friday. Six planters arranged in the shape of a cross were placed at the front of the church; and people were then invited to come forward and place a bulb in the dirt.

The act was a response to the voices of the crowds as Jesus made his way to the cross; voices of confusion and anger and despair; voices still heard today. And in this context of emotional turmoil, what we did was a small sign of our hope in Jesus’ voice of love.  

For just as we know a flower bulb needs to be buried in the earth if something of great beauty is to grow; so, the Christian faith proclaims, Jesus had to die and to be buried, in order for there to be a surge of divine energy unleashed once more in our universe.

But there was a lighter side to Friday’s service. It happened early the next morning.  A parishioner called me and she said, tongue in cheek, ‘they’ve taken my bulbs away, and I don’t know where they have laid them.’ I was sure I had heard those words before!

And I had to confess to her, ‘No it wasn’t the gardener who took them’. And, ‘it wasn’t someone frustrated by the Easter trading laws who stole them.’ ‘It was the vicar. In his eagerness to prepare for the next service, he had stored them in another room.’ 

Now, getting our fingers dirty was an aspect of what we did on Friday; and I want to continue with this theme today. We know New Zealanders love their gardens, most of those who came on Friday knew which way up a bulb is supposed to go; but perhaps less well-known, is that gardens are not just a feature of House and Garden magazines, they feature also in the Bible. In fact, the word ‘garden’ appears more than sixty times. 

Of course, the first garden mentioned is in the book of Genesis. The second creation story tells us how, after making the earth and heaven, God planted a garden in Eden, (a much easier job, I suspect), and there amidst the shrubbery, God placed Adam, the first human, in whom God had breathed the very breath of life, and told him to look after it. 

 

In the biblical tradition, Eden provides us with a picture of life as it ought to be. It depicts a harmony between God and humankind and the natural world; the creator and the creation. It is a harmony I am sad to say we seldom see around us. Nations are at war with one another, families are torn apart, religion is misused and abused, and the fragile planet we live on is groaning under the weight of human disregard. 

Thankfully, in regard to the latter, the Anglican Church is beginning to speak out; to reclaim our God-given responsibility to care for creation; and slowly, I suspect far too slowly, the message is starting to filter through. We need to get our fingers dirty.

In the New Testament, Jesus draws on images from the garden in his teaching. He compares the Kingdom of God to a mustard seed; he tells the parable of a sower going out to sow; and he describes himself as the real vine, and the Father as the gardener. 

And it was in a garden Jesus was often to be found with his disciples. It was no doubt for him a place of peace; apart from the crowds and their unceasing demands upon him. And it was in this same garden Judas betrayed him to the religious leaders. Then, in yet another garden, near the cross where Jesus hung, his lifeless body was laid in a tomb.

It’s ironic, when you think about it, that a place which evokes for many of us thoughts of rest and pleasure, of beauty and colour, can also be a place of betrayal and agony. It’s true of the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve were banished from there for eating from the very tree God told them not to eat, and it’s true of the garden Jesus knew so well.

As Gerald Vann writes: 

‘So through the ages the two contrasting worlds confront one another: the world of beauty, of the homely things, of life and love; and the world of ugliness, of greed, of darkness and hatred; and the second world attempts to destroy the first…’ 

The tree of life is turned into a tree of death. 

But I am sure what you are thinking is this is not what Easter is all about. That was Good Friday. Today is a time to pull out the stops on the organ, to savour the colour and goodness of a new creation, and to rejoice in the timeless promise of God’s love.

And this is true. For on that first Easter morning, Mary came to the garden before dawn, and what she discovered there was to change her world. The stone had been rolled away from the tomb and she feared someone had taken away the body. And even the response of the disciples didn’t change her mood; nor did the sight of two angels; and nor did the voice of the person she mistook as the gardener. In fact, it wasn’t until Jesus spoke her name that she realized who he was; and her tears turned to joy.

Her story reminds me of Dag Hammersjkold, former General Secretary of the United Nations. In Markings, he writes: ‘I don’t know who – or what – put the question, I don’t know when it was put. I don’t even remembering answering. But at some moment I did answer Yes to Someone – or Something – and from that hour I was certain existence is meaningful and that, therefore, my life, in self-surrender, had a goal….

Now, you may wonder why I haven’t said much about ‘the resurrection’. The simple answer is the scriptures have little to say on this matter. They speak of the empty tomb; they tell of those who first experienced the risen Christ; and they bear witness to the early faith of the church, and its belief Jesus died and was raised to new life. 

But what really happened in the tomb no-one can say. 

That’s why some describe the resurrection as a second big bang.  No-one was there to see it happen, but what we believe is a creative power was unleashed, re-establishing our world, and opening us to the possibility of God’s healing. It is as our liturgy affirms: ‘a new age has dawned, a broken world is restored and we are made whole once more.’

And those of us who choose to believe in resurrection; to believe death does not have the last word; but that God’s love and life and goodness is stronger than all else; those of us who dare to believe this is true, are reminded today that we have a job to do; that we must get our fingers dirty, if faith and hope and love are to blossom in our world.

Let me finish with this thought: St Alban’s is fortunate to have such a beautiful garden. Of course, it is what it is, because of the green fingers of Margaret and Mike and others. But, as a result of this day, Easter Day, may what you see and enjoy have new meaning. 

Jesus was betrayed in a garden; 

his body was laid in a tomb in a garden; 

and it was there in that same garden the risen Christ first appeared. 

So smell the roses. Breathe in the life of God, or let God breathe life into you. Say ‘yes’ to the voice calling your name. Be part of God’s new creation; for we have work still to do! 

Alleluia! Christ is risen. He is risen indeed. Alleluia!

A sermon preached in St Alban’s Anglican Church, Eastbourne, on Easter Day 2009, by the Ven Damon Plimmer.

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