by Sharlyn Guthrie
“Listen carefully, my children. Tonight I have witnessed a most wonderful, yet terrible thing.” The man had beckoned his children from their beds, so they sat swiping at their sleepy eyes.
“What is it, Papa?” Sarah asked, stroking his weathered hand.
“I have told you before about a man who often visits the garden. He usually enters at dusk, just as I am leaving, and goes to a secluded area to pray.”
“Yes, Papa, I remember.” Liam nodded, “Sometimes he shares his bread with you.”
“That’s right, Liam. But tonight was very different.” The gardener paused, gauging their attentiveness. “As you know, I returned to the garden after supper to sort fruit into baskets for the poor. I was sorting in the barn by candlelight, when the man came to the garden, accompanied by several other men.”
“Who were they, Papa?” Joel, the youngest, inquired.
“He called them his disciples. And tonight I learned the man’s name. His disciples called him Jesus.”
“Papa, I’ve heard about Jesus,” Sarah exclaimed, “He healed my friend Lydia’s father.”
Papa nodded with conviction. “I believe that is true, Sarah, although I might not have believed you if you had told me yesterday.”
“Tell us more, Papa.” It was Joel again, squirming with impatience.
“Jesus told his disciples to sit down by the garden gate and wait for him while he prayed. Three of the men continued to follow him. He was very upset and sad. Soon he told them to stop, but to stay alert and pray. Jesus went to his usual place, alone.”
“Did the men do what He said?” Liam interrupted.
“Yes, and no. They did stay behind. Meanwhile, Jesus fell to the ground, crying and pleading. ‘My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me, yet not as I will, but as You will.’*” Papa’s voice resonated with emotion.
Sarah looked puzzled. “What does it mean, Papa?”
“I wasn’t sure either, Sarah. But I could feel his anguish. It cut to the very core of my being. When Jesus went back to find the men, guess what…all of them were sleeping! Jesus sobbed, rebuking them, ‘So you men could not keep watch with me for one hour?’** Then He went away to pray again, this time crying, ‘My Father, if this cannot pass away unless I drink it, Your will be done.’*** When he returned, he again found his disciples sleeping, so he went back to pray a third time. It was then that I took my cloak to where Jesus knelt, weeping. Without speaking, I draped it over his back, and turned to walk away. As I did, his hand clasped mine. Gazing into Jesus’ mournful eyes, I suddenly knew…”
Joel tried hard to understand. “Knew what, Papa?”
“I knew that this man, Jesus, is the Son of the living God…the Messiah…our Passover Lamb.”
“That IS wonderful, Papa!” Sara rose, holding her father’s hand in both of hers. “Will you introduce us to Him?”
“No, Sarah.” Papa lowered his eyes to meet hers. “Some soldiers came into the garden and arrested Jesus only a few minutes later. They want to put Him to death. That is why Jesus was so distraught, you see. He knew that He was about to die.”
“Can’t we stop them, Papa?” Liam stood now, tugging on his father’s other arm.
“No, Liam. Don’t you see? It is God’s will for His Son to die. Even Jesus’ own Father will not prevent His death. Do you remember the words of the prophet, Isaiah? ‘…He was wounded for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities...’**** It is happening now, this very night.”
“Papa, the cloak you put on Jesus…” Joel swallowed hard. “Is it the one that Mama made just before she died?”
“Yes, Joel. Apart from you children, it was my most prized possession.”
The following day the gardener watched as angry soldiers led Jesus past the Garden of Gethsemane, blood dripping from his thorn-crowned head onto the precious cloak –the gardener’s gift. Much later in the day a soldier returned carrying the cloak, boasting of his booty.
The gardener felt remorse, but only for his own sins that required the death of the blameless Lamb of God. Remembering Jesus’ tender touch and the compassion that glistened in His eyes, the gardener whispered, “It is I who received by far the greatest gift.”
* Matthew 26:39 NASV
** Matthew 26:40 NASV
*** Matthew 26:42 NASV
**** Isaiah 53:5 NASV
Beautiful story. I'm so thankful for this time of year - and the reminder of the greatest gift.
ReplyDeleteSo THAT's where He got the cloak! :) I love this story - so much conflicting emotion - the sorrow of the storyteller clashing with the excitement of the children, and underlying it, the Hope that came only through His suffering. Very nice!
ReplyDeleteJust perfet as our family prepares for the church's annual passion play. I love the POV here, great take on this moving part of history.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully creative and poetic display of our gracious Savior!
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful way to make this story new and exciting (not that the death and resurection of our Lord isn't exciting already). Thank you for this very interesting POV! Loved it!
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful story, Sharlyn! It very effectively combines scripture with your creativity in emphasizing this most precious of all gifts.
ReplyDeleteJust beautiful, sharlyn. Is this an old challenge piece? It seemed familiar. Just beautiful, and a wonderful telling.
ReplyDeleteWhat an amazing story! I've not heard it told from this angle before...so powerful and a perfect time to be sharing this with the celebration/memorial of His sacrifice just around the corner.
ReplyDeleteAwesome writing!
I LOVE LOVE LOVE this story! So beautiful and appropriate with the Easter season approaching. Thank you for posting this. It blessed me!
ReplyDeleteThe last point came as such a surprise to us. John and I are totally inexperienced and lacking in professional knowledge and skills, and yet these couples are coming to us? It makes no sense. Or does it?
ReplyDeleteIt makes all the sense in the world. When I find myself asking, "How can this be?" I remember God's economy and plan is so different from what makes logical, human sense. SO DIFFERENT.
Well done. Loved your post.
Blessings.