Thanks Be to God for His Unspeakable Gift

A couple weeks ago for my morning run I decided to run down to the cemetery. It was one of those days when the sky seems in mourning and the grass looks so green you wonder how it doesn't stain everything. As I ran I listened to an album I grew to love on my mission called the Lamb of God by Rob Gardner. My trainer played it for me on my first Sunday in the mission and from thence grew my obsession. But listening to it as I ran through the cemetery that morning, it took on a whole new meaning.

As I ran through the black iron gates the album was on The Lord's Supper. I found it ironic in a beautiful way that just as Christ had been preparing then to enter the garden, I was entering the cemetery. The song that soon followed was Gethsemane, in which the Savior is portrayed by a rich cello. You can hear the tears run down the strings, every note a swelling sob, every pause a sigh. One wonders why he had to suffer so much. But running past all the grave stones, row upon row, I saw why.


The song that follows is Peter's after he has denied thrice his Lord. It is one almost equal in anguish to the one before it. "Oh God!" he cries, "What have I done? As Thou has taken stripes for me, could I not take but one for Thee? I dare not look upon His face and see the very Son of God, His brow so bruised and stained with blood, His eyes that shed my sorrow's tears, and watch as all hope disappears. I will not watch them crucify my Lord!" And then at the climax of the song Peter cries out with both heartache and conviction, "For I know this man! I know Him! And when my eyes have closed in death, these words will hang on my last breath: I know Him." As I run past the gravestones I wonder how many knew him, and how many could have said so with Peter's conviction. But one thing is certain, there in the Garden he knew us all.

This Easter morning I got up early and went for a walk with a friend to the cemetery. We meandered through the grave stones before settling down in a pavilion where we listened to the song "I Am the Resurrection." When it came to the words "I am the Resurrection and the Life, he that believeth on me though he were dead, yet shall he live," a sweet spirit seemed to settle on the cemetery, and I saw what a wonderful gift his sacrifice was.

 As we were leaving the cemetery, my friend and I listened to the song of Mary when she sees the resurrected Christ. Listening to that song of hope and joy and looking around at the beautifully blossoming trees it seemed less to me like a cemetery and more like a Garden.

So many beautiful and central events that form the pillars of eternity happened in a Garden. In the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve talked with God and made the choice that allowed them to have children and allowed us to come to earth and learn and grow and experience the joy of redemption. In the Garden of Gethsemane, our Savior suffered for our sins, trials, and weaknesses. And in a Garden outside an empty tomb, the resurrected Christ appeared to Mary, who, in all its symbolic beauty, thought Him to be the Gardener.



I cannot know the joy Mary must have felt to realize it was her Lord. But I do know the joy I feel to know that he is MY Lord. My Gardener. My Savior. And that over 2000 years ago today he rose again, bringing hope and life. I find comfort in the words of Paul, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is they victory?" and Isaiah's resounding response, "He will swallow up death in victory; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces."

Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable gift.