Where did He get the clothes?

Having once again celebrated the resurrection of Christ at Easter, it can be easy to become dismissive about the story. It’s well-worn and well known. But this Easter I was asked an interesting question by one of the local clergy: where did the resurrected Jesus get His clothes? In John 20:15, we’re told that Mary Magdalene, upon encountering Christ on that first Easter morning, supposed Him to be the gardener. Apparently He emerged from the tomb wearing some ordinary work clothes.

Assuming that Jesus didn’t burst forth from the grave and burgle the clothing, where did they come from? The simple answer is that we don’t know, and all we can do is speculate. But this detail gives us an opportunity for some fresh reflection this Easter season.

A gardener. First thoughts take us back to the Garden of Eden, where God originally dwelled with mankind. The resurrected savior comes to take us to a new and improved Paradise.

A gardener. When we might expect the resurrected savior of the universe to be enrobed in sublime glory, instead we find a man, gentle, approachable. The humble King born in a manger is ever and always a man of the people. It’s not charisma or popularity—it is love, faith, and relationship that draws us to Him.

A gardener. But it’s the reality of that relationship that reveals to Mary that He is something more. When He speaks her name, it’s then that she sees Him for who He is. Not an anonymous figure, a nameless extra in the drama of her life, but rather her teacher, her lord, her savior.

A gardener. The most significant person Mary could have run into at the most significant time. Where did He get the clothes? Perhaps that’s not the main issue. After all, it’s not the clothes that made the man. But it’s the Man that opens the eyes of those who would seek Him at Easter.

 

Inside Out

I have a wonderful friend and former co-worker. He was in his 70’s when we first met one another. With wisdom and an ornery sense of wit, he has been a delight in my life. Over the years, I’ve stayed several times in his home and met most of his family.

Among many other things, there was something in particular that I always respected him for…and it might surprise you.

He wore his undershirts inside out.

Socks too.

Some may chalk up that behavior to elderly eccentricity, but I saw that there was a foundation of unpretentious pragmatism behind it all.

He found the seams sewn into t-shirts and socks bothersome–so why not wear them inside out? Who cares what it looks like or how it was designed? No one sees it anyway, and it worked better for him that way.

A simple decision, really, and yet somehow bold as well. He was unconcerned with expectations and intent and design. He was going with what works, he was living life his way (while also being a heartfelt follower of Jesus Christ).

I smiled to myself just the other day. I have a pair of socks with an especially obtrusive seam.

So what did I do? I turned them inside out.

Hey, I’m no fool; I recognize wisdom when I see it…even if the rest of the world may think it’s upside-down, backwards, or inside out.