In scripture, gardens are important places where heart-stopping events happen: Eden, Gethsemane, the post-resurrection site where Mary Magdalene mistakes Jesus for the gardener. And she isn’t totally wrong: that image has enormous appeal. Imagine Jesus in his floppy straw hat seeding, creating, tending, nurturing, fertilizing, pruning the frail shoots of our lives.
The more I learn about gardens, the more I respect them as sacred spots where extraordinary marvels occur. Consider, for instance, the clever ginko tree. When a male tree senses that there aren’t enough female trees around to produce berries, it turns into a female. What sleight-of-hand. The London plane trees were planted during the Industrial Revolution because the bark wouldn’t absorb the pollution that could kill the tree, instead would just peel off. The coastal oak doesn’t have the traditionally shaped oak leaf. Instead, a round leaf turns upward around the edges to cup moisture from fog, so they survive drought. What kind of God creates the mimosa tree, pink puffballs catching the afternoon light or—show-offs pirouetting and pivoting in the breeze?
The Creator must’ve really run amok with dahlias: such enormous variety. One has creamy centers, petals tapering out into pale lavender. Another, a spiky burst of sunset colors, one with meticulously sculpted petals, aligned gracefully as ballerinas. Delphiniums aptly named “The Wave” swell from deep purple to aquamarine to pale blue to white, like water rolling in, foaming and crashing on shore.
Two African-American writers are eloquent about their gardens. Ross Gay’s Book of Delights shows in countless way how his community garden nourishes his delight. Even weeding bindweed, he reflects, “And if I think I’m in a hurry, or think I ought to be, …the teeny bindwood sprouts will sing out to me, “Stay in the garden!” (p. 199) Asked what hope looks like, Camille Dungy in her book Soil responds, “my garden.” (p. 151) The names of her plants sound like music. Specifically, she names “azaleas in technicolor purple and gold. Forsythia mimicking the sun, golden and dazzling.” (p. 116)
Visiting a Botanic Gardens (in this case Filoli near Palo Alto, CA) monthly for half a year reveals a sunrise/sunset progression. Pots which in March filled with hyacinths are now full of begonias. Apple and pear trees blooming then now brim with red-gold fruit. Its’s a comfort to think that all that time I was doing laundry, eating lunch, reading, sleeping, traveling, etc. apples were going through a mysterious process from flowers to clusters of fruit dusted with the same colorful red-pink as blossoms. The processes of the natural world continue, regular and reliable as tides, so that in the rare case where something goes haywire, we sit up and take notice. Almost always, the quiet, steady growth of a garden soothes the soul.
The garden at home is full of surprises, volunteer plants from seeds I never sowed: the morning glory twining around the tomato plant, the tomato poking through the roses. And the sun glazing the fountain waters is as vibrant as when it shines on vaster oceans, lakes or rivers. In this microcosm, it’s easy to understand Thomas Berry saying that exuberant delight and unending gratitude are the human’s first obligation. No wonder he warns that we mustn’t become too alienated from the natural world of the “shining forth” (the meaning of the word phenomenon). Instead we must “participate creatively in the wildness of the world about us,” with wildness here referring to our first home. He continues: “The natural world offers us wonder for the mind, beauty for the imagination, and intimacy for the emotions.” How could we be too busy to neglect this treasure, too preoccupied to miss the marvels, many of us rarely taking a daily walk outside?
The White House rose garden has recently been destroyed and paved over…
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Retreat at Marillac Center, Leavenworth, KS
The Genius of Jesus, The World of Women–Kathy Coffey
October 13 at 4pm (arrive in afternoon)– October 18 after lunch
For more information or to register,
visit https://www.scls.org/prayer-spirituality/marillac-center/
or contact retreats@scls.org 913-758-6552
Kathy Coffey 