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When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). John 20:14-16
Easter, sometimes, is a hard day for me. I sometimes feel like I am missing something that everyone else understands. On Good Friday, I feel the tragedy, feel the communal heartbreak as we witness the execution of our God. I feel the resonance with the injustices we still see today. I see Jesus align himself with the most oppressed, even to the point of death. It’s a hard and sad day, but at least I know what to do. At least I’m feeling the right thing. But two days later, it’s suddenly time to be happy. We fill the church with flowers, and we shout “Hallelujah.”
And I sometimes feel left behind because I still feel the pain of the world. I still hear the cries of those who are hurting. I am still hurting. So, what changed? The tomb is empty, but where is Jesus?
Thousands of Easters later, as the bombs fall on the Middle East, where is Jesus? As the wealthy get wealthier, and children go hungry, where is Jesus? As the climate crisis worsens, as communities react to more and more wildfires and floods every year, where is Jesus?
This is the question Mary Magdalane asks a stranger who approaches her. The Gospel of John tells us that supposing him to be the gardener, Mary says “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”
I want to pause and linger on a phrase that’s easy to miss here. Mary, through her tears, supposes the person in front of her is the gardener. Readers and commentators usually assume this detail is just to explain why Mary does not recognize Jesus. But surely, prophetic, insightful Mary would not just make this mistake for no reason. Surely, she saw something — something so important it has been preserved in our holy text for thousands of years.
Mary witnesses Jesus as a gardener — as one who tends to the earth, who takes a little plot of land and cares for it and helps living things grow. Did he have a smudge of dirt on his cheek, a spade in his hand? Were his clothes muddy? Was there dirt under his nails? We don’t know his exact appearance, but when he speaks Mary’s name, we finally have the answer to her question. Here is her Lord, embodied as a humble gardener. Here is Jesus.
Friends, so often, I want something big from God, some huge sign that everything is changing. That good will overpower evil, that light will overpower darkness. But God does not come to us as one who overpowers. On Easter, we do not celebrate a warrior God, a politician God, or even a kingly God. Mary, in her blessed witness, tells us something so important, so fundamental about God. God does not overpower — God tends. God plants. God nurtures. God gently cultivates the earth.
And so, when I look for Jesus in powers and principalities, I will not find him. When I look for Jesus on thrones and in parliaments, I will not find him. No, Jesus — the center of our faith, the one we worship above all kings and above all power — is in the dirt, gardening. The scandal, the miracle of the resurrection, lives in the humility of a God who tends to the earth.
So friends, look! The tomb is empty, and here is Jesus. Tending to the earth, planting the seeds of God’s kingdom. Neither violence, nor death, nor any power of this world could hold back the work of our God, the work that starts small as a mustard seed and will grow into something bigger and more glorious than we can possibly imagine. Jesus shows us through his resurrection that we will survive the sword and find grace in the wilderness, just as God has promised.
Let us follow our risen savior into the garden. Let us participate in the resurrection world, in the planting of something new.
This piece is part of the Farminary Lenten Reflection Series. Each week throughout the 2026 Lenten season, alumni and students of the Seminary will share a personal reflection rooted in soil, scripture, and hope. Students in the Master of Arts in Theology and Ecology program and those pursuing the Concentration in Theology, Ecology, and Faith Formation participate in the Farminary to explore ecological sustainability rooted in theological practice. Learn more about The Farminary Project.
