Recently I left my job, so I've had some time to tend to my gardens. Here are some parables that came to me as I trimmed, weeded, and planted.
Part I
The Violent Seize It by Force
Matthew 11:12, Luke 16:16
As a person who loves plants, I often wait to see what a
volunteer seedling will turn into before I consider it a weed. As a result, I have volunteer evening primroses in my
flower bed. They provide a spot of pale yellow and the deer prefer them to the
plants I deliberately included. Now I like them so much that it distresses me
to see them bitten off by my neighborhood herbivores.
However, the most persistent volunteer is a common hawthorn
that I did not plant and is not in a place where I want it. We have cut it back for twenty years with the
result that it is bushier and hardier than ever. I suspect that the only way to
get rid of it is to dig it up completely or to poison it. But I just don’t hate it that much. And at
this time of year, August, the hawthorn provides a lovely spot of color with
its red berries that feed the birds.
I also meditate as I’m trimming this thorny bush. I think
about the vital force that the hawthorn has put into persisting as part of my
landscaping. I think about what it adds to the beauty of my yard and how it
feeds birds. I think also of a parable about the kingdom of God and those who
are forcing their way in, even to the discomfort of local gardeners. Why not
appreciate the energy and vitality of their search for God? It’s clear that
they are responding to the good news Jesus came to share and be for us.
In my home denomination, we have spent so much energy trying
to prevent the full inclusion of LGBTQ persons in our churches, and we set
limits on their freedom to listen to Jesus themselves and obey what Jesus tells
them and contribute the gifts Jesus has given them to our congregations. Maybe
our energy is better spent on our own seeking first God’s kingdom and God’s
rightness and justice rather than protecting our space and justifying
ourselves.
Part II
Pruning and Shaping
Hebrews 12:6; John 15:2
So, given that this hawthorn has violently forced its way
into the kingdom of my plants, and it will not go away, what am I doing? I’m
trimming it and shaping it. I mutter to it, “Whom the Lord loveth, He
chasteneth,” and “If you’re going to stay, you can’t grow any old way you
please, particularly into the roses.”
It takes some finesse to trim up a thorny plant like roses
and hawthorns. I need long sleeves, gloves, long-handled pruners, and
clippers. I need to move slowly and cut
judiciously and quickly. I need my
pruners and clippers to be sharp. I need not to slip on the hillside and fall
into the bush. I need to know something about how pruning affects the plant’s
growth.
Today I did research into how to help a hawthorn look its
best. I found out I need to cut out suckers that grow up from the bottom. So I went in after them.
We’ve mistreated this hawthorn so much by severe pruning
that it has sent up numerous suckers in order to survive. I decided that
anything less than one-half inch diameter could come out. To my surprise, these
stems were very hard to cut through. It seemed possible my bicep might be the
thing to tear. Additionally, pulling out the cuttings required a firm but
gentle grip—firm because they were tangled in with the other branches, gentle
because, well, long sharp thorns. With all my care, I walked away with one or
two new puncture wounds. But the hawthorn looks so much better.
I see a parable here in the harm the inexperienced or
thoughtless gardener can do with clippers and pruners. We turned a potentially
lovely, airy, flowering tree with three lovely seasons into an unwanted pest
partly by never bothering to find out what it is in itself and how best to help
it be beautiful.
How often do I look at others and wish they would give up
trying to be part of my “landscaping,” my church? They cause me pain, and they
intrude on my space. They don’t fit in with how I thought the church should be.
But they also won’t go away, despite my lack of welcome. What if I get to know
them so that I can see how best to welcome them, how to make space for the
gifts they bring, how to help them fit in without destroying who they are? What
if I decide I'm willing to suffer a little so they can experience God's
freedom?
Part III
The Wayward Rose Bush
Luke 15:11-32 “It is fitting that we should be merry and
glad; for your own brother was dead and is alive again; he was lost, and now is
found.”
Besides the hawthorn, another volunteer is a rose. Its
parent plant is above a cinder block rock wall. I think the parent chose to
send up a shoot—a scion—at the bottom of the wall, right by the water tap where
the hose connects. I love it because it
has beautiful blooms. My husband wants to destroy it because “it thrashed his
arm” while he was getting out the hose. We are presently compromising by
cutting it away from the hose. I fear if we attack it aggressively, we will
kill the bush above, which is attached to it by its roots.
But I might be wrong. So I asked an expert, my friend Phil,
and he confirmed my fears. Killing the offshoot might kill the parent plant as
well.
I see a parable here. Children in Christian families often
grow up to share some values and reject other values their parents have.
Parents can find this wounding, and churches can be offended and even blame the
parents. I remember when I was a young “elder” and an old saint was complaining
about young people not being brought up to follow a particular taboo. I said,
“My parents brought me up with that taboo, and I’ve never shared their belief
about it.” She may have been offended at my brashness, but she didn’t cut me
off from relationship with her or the church. If she had pushed for this
punishment, she might have lost my parents also. I’ve seen such things happen.
Even more tragic, I see parents confused between
establishing boundaries for relationship and seriously damaging relationship
with their own children when their child rejects their values. How can parents
and children trim back the thorny branches so they don’t “thrash” our hearts
without causing deeply felt estrangement between parent and child?
Perhaps looking for and affirming “that of God”—the
equivalent of blossoms—in each other can help. Parents bear the greater
responsibility to speak healing and affirmation to their children for those
unique gifts each child brings into our world. And children can also initiate
loving affirmation for the many good things they inherit from their parents. We
need both generations to flourish for each to be healthy.
Part IV
Artificial Scarcity and God's Love
“I am come that they might have life, and that they might
have it more abundantly.” John 10:10
When I first began cooking, I used spices and herbs bought
at the grocery store in small glass bottles for large prices. I did not know
any other way, and I assumed, because of the packaging, that scarcity dominated
the spice and herb world.
Then one day, my husband brought home five pounds of
cinnamon and five pounds of nutmeg. Such
a lot of spice! My concept of spices and herbs began to include the idea of
abundance (and as a side note, of artificially enforced scarcity.) Now, 30
years later, we still have nutmeg from that original purchase, though we ate
our way through the cinnamon years ago. I blame cinnamon toast.
Today, I have many herbs growing in my garden. Most
spectacular is an oregano plant that resists drought, winters over, hosts bees
in the late summer and produces enough oregano to flavor the sauces of 10 to 20
cooks. I have parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. I have lemon grass, basil,
marjoram, summer savory, and fennel. Some of these are perennial, some are
annual. All produce far more than I can use. I even discovered that when my
cilantro seeds out, I can harvest cardamom, an actual spice.
I see a parable here of the evolution of my understanding of
the love of God. When I was a child, I saw the love of God as scarce and
expensive, something I had to work hard to earn. I began to be aware that the
scarcity was artificial, perhaps even promoted as a way to shape and control my
behavior. Now I find through experience and belief that the love of God is
abundant, that it just needs a heart ready to let it plant itself, and God will
produce enough love to satisfy an individual and even pour out over an entire
village.
Part V
The Diverse Mint Family
John 10:16, Matthew 12:41-42, 50
I celebrate today the many plants I love that belong to the
mint family. The Lamiaceae (according to Wikipedia) are “a family of
flowering plants…frequently aromatic in all parts and include…basil, mint,
rosemary, sage, savory, marjoram, oregano, hyssop, thyme, lavender and
perilla.” Family members can be found all over the plant-supporting globe. Many
are grown to eat or drink, some for beauty, some for repelling deer and other
plant-eaters. Salvia and dead-nettle are
in this family. They characteristically, though not universally, have square
stems, and their leaves are in opposing pairs, each pair at right angle to the
one above or below.
When I breathe in the scent of my salvia plants, I feel a
deep sense of pleasure. I say to the plant, “Thank you for smelling so
wonderful.” When I water my mint, oregano and sage plants, I enjoy their
aromas. I love the strong mint tea I bought at the souk in Tunisia, and I’m
fond of “curiously strong mints.”
I cannot believe how many members there are in this family,
how tenacious they often are of life, and how they send out runners underground
and seeds overground to ensure their persistence. Lemon balm has invaded my yard. It propagates
very successfully and will crowd other plants out, so I pull it up, but I can
never pull it all up.
The parable that comes here relates to the wide variety of
the individuals and worshiping communities and denominations that make up the
church universal. Unbelievably, the gospel propagates itself both underground
and above ground, through root—families of faith—and through seed—converts who
hear and give heart space for the gospel to sprout and grow. The sweet scents,
lovely blooms that feed the bees, and the multiplicity of usefulnesses for
human beings are an aspirational analogy to us as individuals and
congregations. Do we make our communities more beautiful, more livable, more
equitable for our neighbors? Do we soothe their pains, sweeten their existence,
and spice up their days?
To paraphrase Jesus’s parable about sheep, “Other mint
varieties I have that you have never heard of or did not recognize. These also
fulfill God’s will for the mint family, and will add beauty and pleasure and
healing to your lives.”
Part VI
Sedums and Gifts
Genesis 3:8, Psalm 91:1-4, Matt. 23:37
Someone I didn’t know very well lived with my husband and me
for a number of months. He was shy, quiet, and well-behaved, and we didn’t do a
good job of getting to know him. Years later, I discovered that he went hungry
in my house because he was in his 20s and we were in our 50s, and we were
eating salads and other light meals in a vain effort to lose weight. He had
that miraculous metabolism that can eat an entire calf. I am still embarrassed
at my lack of perceptiveness.
He also loves plants, and he planted some that are still
here a decade later. A group of fall-flowering sedums has survived an enormous
amount of neglect and drought to bring forth lovely flowers right on time. So today, in late September, I weeded
them. I’d like to actually see the
blooms. And I’m watering them as we are
in our dry season. I hope they don’t die of shock.
There are several parables here. First, pay attention to
those in my orbit and under my care. What do they actually need? It is probably
not identical to what I need. Perhaps asking them if they have enough to eat,
literally or figuratively, is a good place to start.
Second, care for the relationship. Even if it survives on
benign neglect, it is in my own best interest to keep it healthy and to let the
other person’s virtues shine in it. If I let it be smothered or even just kept
invisible by my neglect, I have no one to blame but myself if I miss its
beauty.
Third, do not ignore or disparage the gift someone brings.
Even if I didn’t ask for it, it represents an effort to be friends. (At the
same time, gifts are not quid pro quo.
That’s more of a trade and should be negotiated openly.) And when I give a
gift, I need to give it cheerfully and without strings attached.
Sometimes we neither bother to get to know what God really
wants from us, nor do we value the gifts, particularly the grace-filled love,
that God has given us. We might do well to take a little time to listen and to
weed out the things we have let grow that make it hard to see the beauty of
God.
Part VII Caring for Plants with Thorns
Isaiah 53:5 "He was wounded for our transgressions."
As you can see, I love roses. They need clipping. I love
berries that grow on spiny vines. They need pruning and tying up to wires. I
love my horse who gets burdock burs in her mane and tail. I have to work them out without pulling out
all her hair. My life is filled with, wait for it, thorny problems.
Once I trimmed my berries or my roses, wearing gloves of
course. A day later, my wrists and fingers ached, sort of like arthritis. I
discovered then that I am allergic to thorns, that they are just a little
poisonous to me. The medical term is “plant thorn arthritis.” I went after each
with needle and tweezers and then a little rubbing alcohol. Sometimes a surgeon
has to help remove tiny fragments of thorn that elude the home needle, though this didn't happen to me.
This makes me think of a parable or two. First, the work of
ministry can include thorny patches, leaving the minister scratched and perhaps
a bit poisoned. Sometimes careful self-examination and removal of the poisonous
bits from the soul can be done at home, and sometimes the ache and swelling
remain and the minister must seek professional help. It’s important to address
these small problems before they become systemic.
Second, Jesus himself found his ministry to be wounding. He
was despised, rejected, mocked, betrayed. He knew what we humans are like, and
he still acted out his love for us, doing for us what we needed rather than
what we wanted. This is the same today. He also felt thorns both figurative and
literal, and he died to give us new life, abundant life. By his wounds we are
healed. We are grateful every day that Jesus showed us God’s true nature of
love and made it possible for us to turn toward that love. We recognize every
day that though we need pruning, we protect ourselves with strategies that
wound others. Let’s lean in to God’s
love, trusting that God will take away what we need to lose and give what we
need to gain.
