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Posts Tagged ‘easter’

Now the green blade riseth, from the buried grain,
Wheat that in the dark earth many days has lain;
Love lives again, that with the dead has been:
Love is come again, like wheat that springeth green.

It can be no coincidence that the rising of Christ from the tomb corresponds to the greening of nature after the long winter, and even here where winter’s average temperatures are in the mid-50s, the new blossoms springing to life after a season of grey and brown are a delight to the eyes.

After a long hiatus (much more than a season) I am getting back into gardening, in my haphazard and ramshackle way, mostly by guess and by gosh, with frantic googlings when things start to go wrong (what are those teeny tiny red things, and why are they killing my tomatoes?  I have yet to bring a tomato to successful fruition), and this year I am putting in roses.  A popular fantasy author put some flings against roses into the mouth of one of his characters, and I was a little indignant on the poor roses’ behalf.  Is it their fault they are so extravagantly lovely that man has deemed them the best symbol of eternal devotion?  But never mind him.  This year at last our poor drab home will be adorned with roses, roses everywhere I can put them.  I am thinking of climbing roses around the east and west windows, like the cottage in Robin McKinley’s Beauty–although mine are probably not going to grow with supernatural speed and fecundity, alas.

“What do roses do?” the Viking Prince asked.

“What do roses do?” I echoed back at him, as is my (probably quite irritating from his point of view) habit.

He gave it due thought.  “I think they just sit there,” he said.

“Well, yes,” I admitted. “But they also look beautiful…”

“And smell good!”

“And feed the bees…”

“With their nectar! And butterflies!”

“And they glorify God with their loveliness.”  Kind of sententious, I know, but hey, it’s true! God, having made roses, presumably loves them, and the roses, in their plant-y way, love him back.  And do not the green hills, adorned with new blossoms (even the humble dandelions), appear a kind of shout of joy made visible?

And shall we not in this joyful Eastertide (another favorite hymn!) imitate the burgeoning nature around us and glorify God with our best beauties: whether we are magnificent roses, humble dandelions, or prickly blackberries.  Let the joy of God spring forth in our hearts, softening the wintry soil and shooting forth new growth.

As the hymn says:

When our hearts are wintry, grieving, or in pain,
Thy touch can call us back to life again;
Fields of our hearts that dead and bare have been:
Love is come again, like wheat that springeth green.


Hymn “Now the Green Blade Riseth” is copyright John M.C. Crum. I found the full words here.

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