Some thought him just a carpenter,
But he was so much more:
Carving new creations
Where there’d been rot before.

Many called him teacher
And he’d taught since childhood,
But his life was more than teaching:
He embodied all that’s good.

Some men called him “glutton,”
Some called him “drunkard,” too.
He was neither, really,
But it’s true he knew a few.

He ate with tax collectors
And sinners were his friends.
A rabbi who washed dirty feet,
yet would still deeper cleanse.

Even Mary wondered,
After he’d been killed,
How he’d keep his promises—
Would they be fulfilled? …

She thought he was the gardener—
She wasn’t really wrong.
He’d planted in and watered
Many hearts to make them strong.

He’d been there at inception,
(Now so many years ago)
In the first of all the gardens
Filled with crops that he’d made grow.

His coming had been prophesied;
He’d preached to many men.
Yet still it had surprised her
When he died and rose again.