Secret gardens have always fascinated me, they retain a childhood wonder that something magical is behind that gate. Take a sneak look over the rickety old entrance and an enchanted world of possibilities appears. A world that is only restricted by my own imagination. Strange to think that there could be someone the other side taking a photograph and wondering what potential the garden my side held for them. The transcendent moment it seems may not be the other side after all but with me all the time.
The Garden at Gethsemane played a key part for Jesus and the disciples during Holy Week. As he retreated from them a distance to pray the other side of the garden wasn’t a place of wonder and joy but a place of foreboding and suffering. Instead of wanting to pass through there must have been a desire to linger in that moment. Jesus chose to pass through a gate and allow the events of Easter to take their course.
A secret garden takes me away from reality and allows me to dream. For Jesus the garden sent him through the gate into the full reality of a broken world. His destiny was accepted in the garden and he passed through the gate to the authorities and the cross.