Three gardens

'And the Lord God planted a garden in the east...' It's very good but it doesn't last. In Genesis in Eden after they have disobeyed God, Adam and Eve hear the 'sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day'. It is evening and they hide from him because they are naked and afraid. It is a garden of separation, and death, of relationships destroyed.
As a contrast is Mary meeting the risen Jesus in the garden on Easter morning. Mary is naked in her grief and afraid but she goes seeking instead of hiding, wanting so much to stay with him that he has to say 'don't hold onto me' and sending her away to spread the message. I love it that she mistakes him for the Gardener, which of course he is. Here relationships are being made whole- 'go and tell my disciples - and Peter- that I have risen' . This is a morning garden starting in death and ending in life.
In between this evening garden and this morning garden is the night garden of Gethsemene where Jesus descends and harrows his own personal hell of doubt and fear. We talk of the cross being our salvation but it seems to me that the sacrifice is here in Gethsemene, where he can choose to walk away and doesn't. Once he decides to stay and wait for arrest and betrayal it seems to me the rest is inevitable. This is his choice, to stay and not run or hide, waiting out the night for the promise of morning ahead.

Our year of the theatre

Grandma and I have a long history of theatre going. When I was a teenager she and I used to go to the National Theatre and see everything. This was pre Southbank days before it became the Royal National Concrete Theatre and got posh. It was housed in the Old Vic down The Cut in Waterloo and you took your life in your hand getting there down seedy back streets in the winter dark. But theatre goers were a strong breed in those days and besides grandma always took her folding umbrella to see off unwelcome advances. You could get a seat up in the gods for 3 bob with a cushion, or 2 bob on the bench (without a cushion or a back!) If you were really hard up you could stand in the balcony for 1/6 but that was mostly students.
We were the real theatre goers up there. From our 3 bob seats we looked down (in more ways than one) on the nobs in the dress circle and even further down to the Suits in the stalls. We pointed at them and discussed them in the interval. Occasionally we dropped things on them. We knew which Ladies Room had the shortest queue in the interval and how to nip out quick from the side entrance to miss the crowds. We knew the actors and could say things like 'he wasn't as good as when he appeared in Rosencrantz' and 'I remember when Olivier stood in for ___ and played a butler and stole the show' and we'd probably say them a bit more loudly than we had to so's people would hear. If you were feeling extravagent you could queue up for ice creams. There was vanilla or strawberry in little paper tubs with wooden spoons but they cost nearly as much as our tickets so generally we made do with maltezers.
Our theatre era lasted for about 6 years and only really came to an end when I went away to university. When I came back the new national was open. I think we went once but the prices seemed ridiculous. The plush rows of 'upper circle' seats may have been more comfortable than the old wooden tiers in the gods but you had to pay for the privilege! So for a while our theatre going was no more.

* exchange rate 1 bob = 1 shilling = 2 mars bars)