Easter Thistles

Easter Thistles

Guest Writer: Eve Turek

“Cursed is the ground for your sake;
In toil you shall eat of it
All the days of your life.

 Both thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you,
And you shall eat the herb of the field.”— Gen. 3: 17b-18 (NIV)

Easter Swallowtails and Thistles

My contemplation of the Easter story this year gave me new insights. In Genesis, we learn that humankind’s beginnings of a conscious, pure connection with God and with this earth began in a garden. I think a lot about this story because my given name is Eve. In the Eden story, humankind lost the close relationship with God as Creator and the tender, loving stewardship of this earth. Curses were spoken. Humans not only acquired knowledge of evil; they could—and did—choose evil. The ramifications extended upward, outward, and downward. In the story, one of the things God declared from that garden as humans were leaving it was that the earth itself would reap the consequences of their choices and would now produce something that had never grown before in that original garden, thorns and thistles. 

Fast-forward, and we see Jesus praying in agony, knowing what he was about to endure and being betrayed by one of his closest friends, in a garden.

The next afternoon, His own story seemed to end as His body was removed from a cross and placed in someone else’s family tomb… in a garden.

I don’t think the location of that tomb was a coincidence. I think the parallels are too striking to ignore. The miracle that followed in that garden reversed everything that had gone wrong in the first garden. When Jesus rose, life triumphed over death, light overwhelmed darkness, and everything associated with humanity’s knowledge of evil, including the fear, the shame, and the curse, found a remedy in that rising. 

With all of these thoughts in my head and heart, after an early service at Saint Andrews, I drove out to Alligator River refuge. I was seeking an Easter-inspired image that might illustrate them. Maybe I should see if the Elizabethan Gardens was open on my way home, I thought.

And then I found the thistles.

Early last week at the refuge, I noticed the swallowtail butterflies had arrived, and I worried for them because I know their favorite plant is thistle and very few had bloomed yet. It seemed too early for the swallowtails to be here without the plants that sustain them. But on Easter Sunday morning, in all the places I know to look, thistles had sprung up in just a few days and were in full flower. And look! The one specific plant that was mentioned, incorporated into the pronouncement of curses the Earth itself must bear, has instead become the source of sustenance for these beautiful swallowtail butterflies—creatures often associated with symbols of resurrection, of spring, of new beginnings, of Easter itself. Jesus is Risen, and that changes everything.

Alleluia, Alleluia.

Eve Turek

Joanna joannaseibert.com

Trust God to be the Judge, Weeds and Wheat

Guest Writers Steve and Sally Harms

Trust God to be the Judge, Weeds and Wheat

This is the first MRI machine ever built that could accommodate a human body, and it was constructed in Paul Lauterbur’s laboratory. The magnet was a one-of-a-kind machine built to specific specifications. Howard Simon, a graduate student at the time, was the operator. Howard was instrumental in producing the first MRI images of the breast.

Much of my career entailed reviewing scientific research. I often remarked to fellow reviewers that 90% of the papers were relatively easy to rank. The real challenge lay in the remaining 10%. Within that group, it was often difficult to distinguish the bottom 5% from the top 5%. Science usually advances like building a brick wall, each discovery resting on what came before it. But true breakthroughs begin with entirely new ideas. Because we are conditioned to evaluate work as an extension of the past, it can be remarkably difficult to tell whether something represents a transformative insight or a dead end.

Here’s one of the earliest images of the brain I created. It’s a slice from an autopsy showing an infarct. This was one of the first instances of synthetic imaging, where intensity represented one parameter and color another. 

I experienced this difficulty firsthand while working in Dr. Paul Lauterbur's laboratory during the early development of magnetic resonance imaging (MRI). When he presented the concept to the University as a potential patent, a panel of experts concluded it had no commercial value and declined to fund a patent. At the time, medical imaging was analogous to a photographic process—using X-rays or sound waves that pass through the body to produce an image based on differential absorption or reflection. MRI, by contrast, created images from localized variations in magnetic fields—an entirely different paradigm.

During my senior year of medical school, I worked as a physical chemistry graduate student in the lab at Stony Brook. Despite working under the guidance of a future Nobel Prize winner, I unfortunately didn’t win the student research award presented that year at UAMS. Although my advisor supported my work, he was skeptical about its potential as a medical tool.

The experts were wrong. The University missed substantial royalties from what became a multibillion-dollar industry. Dr. Lauterbur was awarded the Nobel Prize in 2003. MRI was recently recognized by the Wall Street Journal as one of the 25 most important inventions, along with computers and steam engines (April 24, 2026).

Even the most knowledgeable and well-intentioned experts can make profound errors in judgment. In today’s polarized world, it is tempting to judge the actions and motives of others with similar confidence. The readings for today caution us against that impulse.

In Matthew 13:24–30, Jesus describes a field where wheat and weeds grow together. Rather than uprooting the weeds immediately, the master instructs his servants to let both grow until the harvest. What appears to be a weed may, in fact, be wheat not yet fully formed. Premature judgment risks destroying what is good and totally ignores God's ability to change hearts.

This parable is not simply about others—it is about us. The more important question is not, “Who are the weeds?” but, “Am I the wheat?” Psalm 37 addresses the inner response to this reality: “Do not fret because of evildoers.” Their apparent success is temporary. We are instead called to trust, be patient, and refrain from anger and envy. As we see injustice all around us in our world, be comforted in knowing that judgment belongs to God, not to us. 

1 Timothy 4:1-16 adds another layer of caution. Paul warns that some will turn away from the faith and that false teaching may arise from within the community itself. The response is not aggressive sorting of others, but careful attention to one’s own life and doctrine: to remain grounded in truth and to train in godliness.

Our calling, therefore, is not to judge prematurely, but to live faithfully—with humility, patience, and trust in God’s timing. In the end, the harvest will make clear what we cannot.

  Steve and Sally Harms, Morning Reflection, St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, May 28, 2026.

Joanna joannaseibert.com

Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth

Feast Day of the Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth on May 31

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.”—Luke 1:39-49

Sculpture Mary Visit to Elizabeth, Church of the Visitation, Ein Kerem Jerusalem

Mary’s visit to Elizabeth is perhaps our best example of what happens when two people allow the Holy Spirit to intervene in their lives. Elizabeth, late in her third trimester, hears Mary, in her first trimester, greet her. We don’t know what Mary initially says to Elizabeth, but we know it must have been affirming because the baby in Elizabeth’s womb leaps for joy. Elizabeth is then filled with the Holy Spirit and greets Mary with these words: "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb." If only we had the courage to say that to each other as we meet. “Blessed are you among women; blessed are you among men.” 

Mary then breaks into the song of praise and thanksgiving, known as the Magnificat. "My soul magnifies the Lord,”

“And my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant." If only we had the courage to say every morning when we wake up, “My soul magnifies God.”

Visitation, Barbavara Book of Hours, 1440, Walters Art Museum Baltimore

How wonderful it is when we meet our neighbor, if the child, the God, the resurrected Christ within us, could leap for joy to see the God, the Christ within our neighbor. What does this story tell us will happen in our lives and in our neighbor's life when this occurs? We will be filled with the Holy Spirit, and our neighbor will be empowered to live out a song of gratitude and praise. 

Some of us are like Mary, beginning to bear children. More of us are like Elizabeth, past childbearing age. Some of us have never borne children, yet the story of these two saints still speaks to each of us. It is the birthing of new life within each of us, enabling us to honor the new life in our neighbor.

This is one of our most descriptive passages about being and having a spiritual friend, a soul mate. As spiritual friends, we are called to see Christ, new life, in each other. Our friend's response may sometimes be as miraculous as the joy of the Magnificat. This story shows us how to see Christ, new life, in our neighbor. It is a gift from the Holy Spirit. Our job is to put ourselves in a position to receive this gift of the Holy Spirit, to see Christ in our neighbor, and then to honor Christ in our neighbor. The promise of this story is that when we reflect Christ, new life, back to our neighbor, she may also see Christ in herself and be enabled to live out the Magnificat. 

What does it mean to "sing out the Magnificat”?

"My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior”? The words are clear. It is about living a life of gratitude and being open to God working in our lives, even in our greatest times of stress. Our role model is an unmarried, pregnant young girl, empowered by the love of her older relative, who eloquently expresses her faith in God. Through the Holy Spirit, Elizabeth sees God in her young cousin. When Mary is open to God within herself and can also see and feel God within herself, her response is this great hymn of gratitude and praise. The fruit of the Spirit, which springs forth when we see Christ in each other, is gratitude and praise. This is our sign that we are indeed open to and honoring God in each other. 

         What a difference we could make in our own lives and in our neighbors’ lives if we each became an Elizabeth to the Marys we visit and live with daily, at home and at work. When we see God, Christ, and new life in our neighbors, the God within us will also "leap for joy" as we meet others on the road to a happy destiny, one step, one person, one greeting at a time!

Joanna Seibert. JoannaSeibert.com