A Tale of Two Gardens
Praying the Rosary can be a challenge.
The 15 minutes required to complete the meditation (for some reason) appear as 15 hours, longer than a session of heavy cleaning…or working out. Should you manage to overcome the “time constraint” and actually pick up some beads, you are faced with new obstacles. You must sit idle and focus – kind of like when you binge watch Netflix, only not. What’s more? You are expected to meditate, not only upon the words of the various prayers, but upon the Mysteries of the Rosary depicting key events in Christ’s life.
Needless to say, the Rosary is not for the faint of heart.
But athletes practice, performers rehearse, and soldiers complete drills for one purpose…perfection. Only through practice can one expect to get anything out of the Rosary, as I can attest. Some days are harder than others, and I am incapable of meditating upon anything other than what I’m going to eat for dinner…tomorrow night. I thumb through half the beads before realizing I heard not a single word of a single prayer, nor imagined the faintest hint of a mystery. Such discouragement would keep me from praying the Rosary daily…
Were it not for the good days.
When my mind is silent, I rather enjoy the Rosary. The mysteries become real, and I experience truths never taught to me in Sunday school. These truths would never have occurred to me, save the grace of the Holy Spirit via the Rosary. Without regular meditation upon the Rosary, the mysteries would’ve remained images – quaint pictures of the Nativity or the Crucifixion or Christ emerging victorious from the empty grave on Easter Sunday.
Through the Rosary, I am quite literally there.
I see the Annunciation, when heaven met earth in Mary’s womb. I see the Presentation, when Mary and Joseph (too poor to offer a sacrifice greater than a pair of pigeons) offered the greatest of all sacrifices – the holy Lamb of God – upon the Temple altar. I see the Crucifixion, when Christ’s blood overflowed down the wood of the cross and quenched a dry and lifeless earth. I see the Ascension, when Christ returned to His heavenly throne, and from which He shall come to earth again.
During one such meditation – the first Sorrowful Mystery, or The Agony in the Garden – I realized something which startled even me. I saw Christ seated against an olive tree, tiny beneath the moonlit sky. The disciples slept peacefully, unaware the powers of good and evil were climaxing in their midst. Sweat and blood oozed from Christ’s every pore as He cried out, “Abba! Father! If it is possible, let this chalice pass from me. But not as I will, as Thou wills.” And that’s when it hit me...
The Garden of Gethsemane is the undoing of the Garden of Eden.
Two gardens – one marked by selfishness, the other by selflessness – are the opening scene for both the undoing and reparation of humanity’s relationship with God. Original Sin was born at Eden, while sanctity from sin was born at Gethsemane. The beginning of Christ’s bloodshed did not take place upon the Cross, but rather, within the walls of Gethsemane, where Christ could’ve run for His life but (despite His agony) chose to remain and fulfill His Father’s will. Disobedience lost to obedience, greed to sacrifice, “My will be done” to “Thy will be done.”
Gethsemane is (for lack of a better phrase) the antidote to Eden.
And without regular meditation upon the Rosary, I likely would’ve never made the connection.
The Rosary reminds me of Christ’s sacrifice and victory, because let’s be honest…forgetting is easy. Between work and school and bills and relationships and (fill in the blank), all one wants to do at the end of the day is rest. Problem is more often than not, we rest in front of the television screen or computer screen or cell phone screen or (fill in the blank). Why not take 15 minutes to reunite with Christ through the mysteries of the Rosary?
You might be surprised by what He reveals to you.
The 15 minutes required to complete the meditation (for some reason) appear as 15 hours, longer than a session of heavy cleaning…or working out. Should you manage to overcome the “time constraint” and actually pick up some beads, you are faced with new obstacles. You must sit idle and focus – kind of like when you binge watch Netflix, only not. What’s more? You are expected to meditate, not only upon the words of the various prayers, but upon the Mysteries of the Rosary depicting key events in Christ’s life.
Needless to say, the Rosary is not for the faint of heart.
But athletes practice, performers rehearse, and soldiers complete drills for one purpose…perfection. Only through practice can one expect to get anything out of the Rosary, as I can attest. Some days are harder than others, and I am incapable of meditating upon anything other than what I’m going to eat for dinner…tomorrow night. I thumb through half the beads before realizing I heard not a single word of a single prayer, nor imagined the faintest hint of a mystery. Such discouragement would keep me from praying the Rosary daily…
Were it not for the good days.
When my mind is silent, I rather enjoy the Rosary. The mysteries become real, and I experience truths never taught to me in Sunday school. These truths would never have occurred to me, save the grace of the Holy Spirit via the Rosary. Without regular meditation upon the Rosary, the mysteries would’ve remained images – quaint pictures of the Nativity or the Crucifixion or Christ emerging victorious from the empty grave on Easter Sunday.
Through the Rosary, I am quite literally there.
I see the Annunciation, when heaven met earth in Mary’s womb. I see the Presentation, when Mary and Joseph (too poor to offer a sacrifice greater than a pair of pigeons) offered the greatest of all sacrifices – the holy Lamb of God – upon the Temple altar. I see the Crucifixion, when Christ’s blood overflowed down the wood of the cross and quenched a dry and lifeless earth. I see the Ascension, when Christ returned to His heavenly throne, and from which He shall come to earth again.
During one such meditation – the first Sorrowful Mystery, or The Agony in the Garden – I realized something which startled even me. I saw Christ seated against an olive tree, tiny beneath the moonlit sky. The disciples slept peacefully, unaware the powers of good and evil were climaxing in their midst. Sweat and blood oozed from Christ’s every pore as He cried out, “Abba! Father! If it is possible, let this chalice pass from me. But not as I will, as Thou wills.” And that’s when it hit me...
The Garden of Gethsemane is the undoing of the Garden of Eden.
Two gardens – one marked by selfishness, the other by selflessness – are the opening scene for both the undoing and reparation of humanity’s relationship with God. Original Sin was born at Eden, while sanctity from sin was born at Gethsemane. The beginning of Christ’s bloodshed did not take place upon the Cross, but rather, within the walls of Gethsemane, where Christ could’ve run for His life but (despite His agony) chose to remain and fulfill His Father’s will. Disobedience lost to obedience, greed to sacrifice, “My will be done” to “Thy will be done.”
Gethsemane is (for lack of a better phrase) the antidote to Eden.
And without regular meditation upon the Rosary, I likely would’ve never made the connection.
The Rosary reminds me of Christ’s sacrifice and victory, because let’s be honest…forgetting is easy. Between work and school and bills and relationships and (fill in the blank), all one wants to do at the end of the day is rest. Problem is more often than not, we rest in front of the television screen or computer screen or cell phone screen or (fill in the blank). Why not take 15 minutes to reunite with Christ through the mysteries of the Rosary?
You might be surprised by what He reveals to you.
Excellent commentary...and true to the point.
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