"Stay"

Rev. Essie Koenig-Reinke

FROM THE GOSPELS Matthew 26:36-46 click here to watch the sermon “Stay"

When I was about Lucy’s age, around four years old,  I became captivated by a book called Linea in Monet’s Garden by Bjork & Lena Anderson. The story is about a young girl in New York City who learns about the artist Claude Monet from her elderly downstairs neighbor, and eventually they take a trip together to visit his home and garden in Giverny, France. Since then monet artwork has surrounded me wherever I have lived and visiting his garden remains second on my bucket list beaten only by visiting the Chengdu Panda Reserve in China, because I had fallen in love with those fuzzy black and white bears at 3 years old because of a Sesame Street Special called “Big Bird Goes to China.” In fact, when I got to design my room in second grade, I wanted it to be a periwinkle garden, just like Monet’s, garden swing and all. Since reading that book, gardens have had a way of being a sacred space for me, or dare I say “A thin Place” - a place where the veil between the holy and the ordinary is so thin you can feel them both. Whether it has been the Italian Gardens at Maymont in Richmond, Va, or Belfast Arboretum, or even our own BioPark Gardens here in Albuquerque, I have found myself at most content being in these places. Gardens have always been sacred places to me, and for the longest time, I have attributed that to my love of Claude Monet, but lately, I have found myself considering another reason. 

Our sacred book, the bible, is bookended by gardens. As God hovered over the deep and brought forth life from the chaos, this new world blossomed in a Garden. And in John of Patmos’ Revelation, it ends back in a garden of peace and calm. Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end occur in the garden. And so does this story. 

The gospels of Matthew and Mark only call this place Ghetsemane, while the gospel according to Luke  calls it “the garden of Ghetsemane.” At the very least it was an olive orchard, rich in trees and foliage. It would have been considered a lush place in comparison with the rest of the city. It was a garden whether assumed or named, and it was in this garden where Jesus chooses to pray. Jesus could have prayed anywhere, in a home, by a fire, on a mountain top, a tent, but he chose a garden, and I don’t think that this is by chance or convenience. I think Jesus knew what he was doing when he prayed in the middle of that garden. He knew he was calling back to the beginning, where the veil was the thinnest between our world and the Divine. The place where Jesus was vulnerable enough to ask God to take this cup. It is no coincidence that Jesus chose a garden, a place blooming with new life, for his final moments of mortal freedom. The garden was a refuge, it is the calm before the storm, and it is also the place where the story resolves. 

It was our third police station. We had been in Rome for only 5 hours, and neither of us had thought to buy a book of Italian to English phrases.  My friend Emma and I had walked in circles looking for a needle in a haystack. We were trying to find where her friend Peter was staying. He was doing an internship at the Vatican and was living with other Catholic Interns and International volunteers somewhere near the Colosseum. It took us nearly 3 hours for what should have been a 20 minute walk from our hostel. Peter had to stand outside calling our names, after a friendly Italian officer from the 4th police department accompanied us to the street the entrance was on. I am not surprised we missed it. With the door and gate shut it simply blended in with the stone wall. However, when we walked through the gate, all of a sudden we climbed this hill, and were in the middle of this beautiful walled garden that overlooked the colosseum. It took our breath away. For most of the visit Peter filled us in on what he was doing at the Vatican while he introduced us to his roommates. All these introductions took place while sitting in the garden and eating oranges we picked right from the trees, as we watched monks and priests take their evening, prayerful strolls. To this day it is the most otherworldly experience I have ever had. I honestly thought - this is what it must have felt like in Eden. It was a holy moment of wonder and of awe. It was a thin place.

As we enter into this season, it seems fitting that we start in the garden, that we start at the beginning. Lent is a time when we are invited to draw closer to our God, much like Jesus did as he prayed in that garden. Not because he was supposed to, or asked to pray  but because he needed to pray. This is the moment that was for Jesus himself. All the moments that came before this one since he rode in on a donkey was for everyone else, but this prayerful moment was for him, a place for his doubt, his fear, his honesty. As a place for him to renew his faith for the coming days. It is not unlike what we are invited to do during lent. To set aside time in our lives to draw closer to the Divine. It is the season we seek out the thin places in our lives and tend to our spirit. Not to hide away from the world, but to continue living in it. It is a moment of respite, a space to breathe, to remind ourselves who we are and whose we are, just as Jesus did. 

That Garden from Rome, stayed with me. After Emma and I returned to Belfast to finish out our Young Adult Volunteer Year, part of my job was helping a group of Primary school students prepare for a large exam. These kids were about 10-11 years old and this exam would determine whether they would get into a trade school (or College) or a Secondary school which would prepare them for university. The students were so anxious. The kind of anxiety no amount of studying could quell. So one day, we took a step back and did this exercise to help them calm their nerves. We wanted them to be able to breathe a bit before the exam, to not feel all the weight their little shoulders were carrying, even if it was just for a moment. And so we did this exercise that I want you to do with me now.

 I want you to find a comfortable seated position. And after you are situated,  I want you to close your eyes and focus on the sounds of your breath. Notice as you are breathing in and out, in and out. And as you do, I want you to notice how all of your other thoughts simply float away . Let every thought in your mind become a bubble and simply float away for the time being. Stay here for a moment, in this vastness. (pause). Now, I want you to imagine, imagine a place where you are happy, and calm and safe. It might be a room in your house, it might be a mountaintop or beach. It might be your own back yard. Paint a picture of this place in your mind. Notice the colors, and smells. Pay attention to the air and how it feels. Is there wind? Are you alone? Is it sunny? Or is it raining? Or snowwing? Allow yourself to be fully here in this place, this safe, sacred space. (pause) and now I want you to say see you later to this place. It is not a goodbye, because this place is always here when you need it. No focus on your breathing, breathing in and out, and as you do begin to notice the room around you. Feel your feet on the ground, the smells in this space. As you come back to this place in time, take a couple more deep breaths and when you are ready, open your eyes. 

The garden is a thin place, Jesus shows us the way, may we bold enough follow. Amen.