The photo is a paradox.

In the heart of the mountains, overlooking the center of town, is a little garden. Bearded irises are blooming, and other flowering plants are shooting up, gathering strength and preparing for when it is their time.

Most of the deciduous trees have all their leaves for the year. They are new and bright green. The leaves will hold until autumn, and after turning the mountainside into a sunrise or a sunset (you pick), they will fall to the ground and so escape the winter’s cold.

The tree will live on, and the cycle will continue.

This is a quiet place for reflection. Someone placed a bench here for just that purpose.

I do not sit down. I stand so I can see below: the traffic already backing up, the people on the sidewalks with their shopping bundles, and the soldiers, loaded with packs, finishing a 5K, 10K, or marathon (you pick).

I hear the noise rising from below.

The red roof of the largest building in this part of town looms in the distance.

I stand because there is no time to sit. It is time to check out and be on my way.

I stand because I don’t deserve to sit. The scene looks too much like a sanitized version of the Garden of Gethsemane that I’ve stumbled upon in a time warp or a Franco Zeffirelli movie, and Jesus might be just around the corner.

What would He do if He found me here? 

I am out of time and out of place. I don’t think there would have been a concrete bench from a big box hardware store in Palestine in the year 29 A.D., so maybe I am in the right time and the right place. 

Then again, Jesus was a carpenter, a builder, a craftsman, a miracle worker. He could have had just such a bench had He wanted one.

He does not sit down. He kneels, praying, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done” (He did not pick).

Red that had been in the background, so close now He could see it, His sweat like drops of blood falling to the ground.

Do you sit with Him? Do you have the time? 

(You pick)

What would you say to Him?

His disciples said nothing:

“Once more he went away and prayed the same thing. When he came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. They did not know what to say to him.”

Mark 14:40

What do you say to a man whose time has come? But Jesus wasn’t merely waiting at the train station. He went out to meet it headlong.

He’d been giving the religious leaders a run for their money all week. Here I am, come and get me, I’m yours for the taking: the Divine’s equivalent of shooting a bird.

It was time.

Time to finish.

It is time to come down from the mountain, and that red roof in the distance reminds me of the red letters on the pages of my Bible. 

Do you believe them? Do you believe He is yours for the taking?

You pick.