Gardener: a speculative monologue

Hey, How ya doin? Don’t know if we’ve met. My name’s Isaiah.

No, not the one you’re thinking of.

It was my Dad’s idea. Isaiah was his favorite part of the prophets. He always loved that part that goes “Comfort ye my people”. So when I come along, he decides to name me Isaiah.

So anyway… what can I do for you? You say you want some Landscaping done? Yeah, that’s right up my alley. What kind of work you need?

Sure, sounds like my specialty.

What? References? You want references?

No, no, it’s not a problem. It’s just no one ever asked before. No problem. References….Hmmm. I guess old Joe could give me a reference…

Huh? Oh, sorry. Who’s Joe? He’s one of the first guys I did landscaping for around here. I worked for Joe for about 2 years. A real rich guy, Joe. Beautiful grounds. He had just moved here from… where was it? … Emmaus, I think.


No, wait a minute: Arimathea.

Yeah, old Joe. A real religious guy, Joe. He’d heard about this teacher who was getting a lot of attention back then. In fact, Joe became a follower of this fella. And I went with Joe once to hear him teach.

I’ll never forget the love in his face, the sparkle of life in his eye – the warmth of his voice.

But then things weren’t looking too good for him. Oh, he shows up in town and he’s welcomed by the crowds, with Palm branches and all, but by the end of the week he’s on trial. When it’s all over, the guy’s sentenced to death. Old Joe was pretty upset about it, and I don’t blame him. I mean, that young teacher wasn’t a murderer; he wasn’t a thief – even though they killed him with one.


No, wait a minute: they killed him with two thieves.

Anyway, Joe decides the last nice thing he can do for his teacher is give a place to lay the body after he’s dead. So he tells me, get the garden tomb ready. Now you gotta know, by this time I’ve probably put in 3 or 4 months in that area of the garden, and it’s looking good. He’s got a lot invested in that site, so for him to give it to the teacher, that’s a pretty big gift.

Right before sundown, Joe and some of his friends show up with the body, and oh man, the guy looks awful. They’ve whipped him, beat him, and crucified him. You could hardly recognize what’s left as a human being.

We all wrap the body in the shroud – yeah, “we”. I helped, cause it was getting late, and – well, I felt bad. He was really a good man. He didn’t deserve what they gave him on that cross, and he never said a word of complaint.

Just when we’re finishing the job, up come all these soldiers. After the stone’s rolled in place, they say they’re gonna stand guard all night.

And they’re stomping all over the plantings I’ve got out there. You can’t treat plants like that and still have a beautiful garden. So I figure, great: after Sabbath, I need to be back here early the next day to try and clean up all the mess they made.

So the morning after Sabbath, I’m there real early, I’m just going into the garden, when this lady runs right past me toward the tomb area. I recognized her; it was one of the ladies who was there before sunset the other night, preparing the teacher’s body. It’s early and I’m thinking, what’s this about? I walk past the tomb to the place where I keep my tools.

As I’m walking back I hear some voices in the tomb area. My first thought was, one of those soldiers is giving that lady some trouble. So I get up there, behind a shrub, and the first voice I hear clearly is hers. She says “Sir, I know you’re only the gardener here…”

“Only the gardener” – I liked that part–

“...I know you're only the gardener, but if you’ve carried away the body, tell me where you’ve put him and I’ll get him”. At first I think she’s talking to me, until I look around the corner and I see her. She’s on her knees before this man.

And this is the part that you’re gonna find hard to believe – everyone else does– but I saw the man in front of her; I saw the love in his face, the sparkle of life in his eye – it was him. It was the teacher. He says to her “Mary”, and when I heard the warmth in his voice, I was sure.

That moment, I became a follower of the teacher. Jesus.

He’d been as dead as could be Friday night. But there he was, as alive as you or me.


No, wait a minute … more alive.

You know, I work with plants. I take a seed and drop it into the ground. And it dies. And then, up out of the ground comes new life. Happens all the time. But I saw it happen to a man.


No, wait a minute…. more than a man.


© Rick Lindholtz 2002, 2005