The Gardener and the Forgotten Baskets

It was the first Sunday after the first full moon of spring. On that morning, as usual, rabbits were scouring for food. Except for a gardener, they were alone in the garden until the women carrying baskets arrived.

Having never seen humans so distraught, the rabbits took a break from their routine. They watched as one of the women approached the Gardener.

Speaking to him, she was suddenly startled. At once, she dropped her basket spilling its contents. Oddly, she seemed not to have noticed the loss.

Mindful of their hunger, the rabbits approached the basket. Yet, they were drawn to continue watching this encounter between the Gardener and the woman. Surprisingly, the woman who had been so distraught seemed to have experienced a new life of awe and joy within her.

"Who is this Gardener?," the rabbits wondered. Obviously, the two humans knew each other. Puzzled, the rabbits recognized the man as the most unique person they had ever seen. He was human, he was spirit. “How so?” they pondered.

When the woman returned to the others, they too dropped their baskets spilling the contents. Not mindful of the baskets, they left the garden praising the Creator.

Soon, the women returned with men. The Gardener was no longer there, but the baskets identified where the women had stood. It was such odd behavior for humans, but no one picked up a single basket. It was as though they were of no use. Instead, the women and the men left the garden together praising the Creator.

Not understanding any of this, the rabbits instinctively knew that they had witnessed something spectacularly glorious. Since that time, on the first Sunday after the first full moon of spring, rabbits around the world have shared baskets to proclaim the glorious experience of the Gardener.

© 2009 Leslye Colvin

Resurrection Sunday Reflection (Triduum 3/3)

Alleluia!

Glory be to God!

Let all that breathes sing praises to God!

Alleluia!

Sing praises to God's holy name!

Alleluia!

Yeshua is risen!

Glory be to God!

Yeshua lives!

Alleluia!

How do I express this? How do I speak of this that I have witnessed? It was only a day ago, that I was at a loss for words to express my feelings. Now, only one day later, I am at an even greater loss to know how to share this that I have witnessed.

My beloved Teacher and friend lives! I speak truth. What my mouth speaks was witnessed by my eyes on this very morn. Every part of me proclaims that Yeshua is risen from the dead just as he had foretold.

We reached his tomb just as the sun kissed the horizon. We paused at the sight. Why was it open? We spoke not a word as our hearts began to race. Who moved the stone? Was someone else here to anoint Yeshua's body?

Entering the tomb, we see that his body is no longer where we placed it. Yes, this is where we placed him just before the Sabbath. My God, have they now stolen his lifeless body?

Resuming the trail of tears that had begun days earlier, I noticed a gardener. Maybe he witnessed what happened. Surely he will tell us where they have placed him and we will gather his body and return it to this tomb. Then we can anoint him as planned.

Oh, my God! That which happened next is truly beyond my ability to speak. The gardener, glory be to God! The gardener standing before me was Yeshua himself. He called me by name. I speak truth. I speak in truth.

Glory be to God!

Life returned to my body, to my soul as tears of mourning became tears of joy. Yeshua is risen from the dead! Yeshua lives! Alleluia! Alleluia!

--A follower of the living Yeshua

Holy Saturday Reflection (Triduum 2/3)

My God, I am at a loss...a loss of words to speak of that which tore out my heart. How can one speak if she has not a heart to inspire her words? This I learned from the Teacher - to allow my heart to give birth to my words.

Again, my God, how do I speak? How do I think? Surely, no language contains words to describe what I feel on this Sabbath. No mind can grasp what has happened over these past two days - from the preparations for the Passover to the absence of the Teacher. For generations, this time of year, this festival symbolized what? I know not. Confusion consumes me. Is it grief or lack of sleep? Does it matter?

Last night, was not for sleeping. Sleep is for those who need rest for tomorrow's purpose. Nor was the night for dreaming. Dreams are for those who have hope for what the new day brings. The night and the day have become as one. They are only for ashes and sackcloth as we mourn this nightmare that is our reality. The Teacher is dead.

For so long, my thoughts have been of what to do for Yeshua. Even now, having touched his lifeless form, I wonder how to serve him. With sunset nearly upon us, his burial was so hasty - too hasty. He is worthy of so much more. I will see that things are done properly in the morn.

Yes, I will gather spices to anoint his body. I will journey to the tomb before daybreak. Certainly, the other women will journey with me. If we leave just before the sun kisses the horizon, we will have the full day to serve him once more.

--A follower of Yeshua

Good Friday Reflection (Triduum 1/3)

My God, what happened? I cry out to you from the deepest recesses of my soul. My heart and my mind are lost in a fierce sea of confusion and despair. Where are you, my God? I need to know that you hear me - even in the midst of this chaos. I no longer feel the ground beneath my feet, nor do I see the sky above me. Yeshua was my ground, my sky, my all.

What can be done when a blossom has been snapped from the branch before it fully opens? Can the breaking be undone? What happens to the hope and awe it inspired? Is it not like bread that is never baked, or a marriage that is not consummated?

If only you had merely turned your back to us. Then, I would spend the remainder of my days begging for your mercy and forgiveness. From sunrise to sunset, I would sing your praises. Now, there is no song within me - not even for tonight's Sabbath. There is only an abyss of sorrow. It is an abyss as cold and dark as the tomb in which we placed him.

The Teacher had spoken of his death, but certainly he did not mean in this manner. What is more degrading than this? I have known others who have been crucified, but this one is beyond my weak ability to grasp. Of what was there to convict Yeshua? Has honoring your Law become a cause for execution?

--A follower of Yeshua

The Tension of Holy Week

Today's vigil Mass for the Palm Sunday of the Lord's Passion marks the beginning of the holiest week of the year for me and all Roman Catholics. Beginning with Jesus' triumphant ride into Jerusalem and following with his subsequent passion and execution, tonight's Gospel readings pull us into the tension that exists within the human condition.

Joy and sorrow. Heart and mind. Betrayal and embrace. Power and vulnerability. Fear and love. Faith and reason. Despair and hope. Humility and status. Honor and shame. Death and life.

During this Holy Week, we are invited to ponder the words and actions of people very much like ourselves. People living in the midst of tension with beliefs and hopes; laws and opinions; blessings and brokenness.

The men and women who were the first apostles, were called upon to experience ineffable joy and ineffable agony. Called upon because they had chosen to follow the Teacher who embraced his faith with compassion thereby diffusing the paralyzing tension that was imposed by the status quo.

Fortunately for us, we know that this tension was resolved with Our Lord's Resurrection. Yet, often, we too are pulled into the midst of tension as we attempt to reduce everything to the lowest common denominator.

Are we really called to be blue or red, or pro-this or pro-that? If blue and red joined forces, could they as purple focus on resolving issues? What would happen if we recognized that pro-this and pro-that are not necessarily mutually exclusive?

My prayer for this Holy Week is to ask for the courage and wisdom to see and live beyond the tension.

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