Tag Archives: gardening

Blooming Rose of Sharon, evangelism, and spiritual conversions

For mother’s day my family got me a Rose of Sharon plant.

Rose of Sharon blossom (from my yard)

My Rose of Sharon shrubbery

As you can see it’s nearly in full bloom. Although a lot was happening in the life of this new floral addition to my yard, it is the blooming that get us to notice it most, and think of it as really “coming to life.”

Working this week doing the Bible lessons for Vacation Bible School has gotten me to thinking a lot about ordo salutis (“the order of salvation”). This refers to the series of conceptual steps within the Christian doctrine of salvation. Evangelical tradition is particularly focused on “the decision” to follow Christ, and “accepting him into our heart.” While a choice is involved here that can change one’s life, we might be noticing the spiritual blossoming when we concern ourselves primarily with a person’s sudden conversion experience.

Today, my former theology professor, Ken Miller (of the Methodist tradition), posted quite an insightful piece on spirituality that we in ministry and soul care are wise to read:

excerpt: -by Ken Miller
Let me put this out there up front: I grew up in a revivalist tradition, in which a signal experience is what initiates one into the faith. Further, in that tradition it is more similar events which act as catalysts for further growth in the faith. Crisis experiences, usually building on emotions and culminating in a trip to the front of the church/campmeeting/crusade venue and subsequent prayer, are what create significant growth in the Christian life. These experiences likely have to do with the confession of a known sinful act or habit or the sudden realization that one’s current pattern is displeasing to God.

I am not about to dismiss the potential value of theses events/experiences. But I will question their sufficiency. Too often we watch the same individuals having emotional releases, only to return to the same patterns of life. It’s a problem at least as old as the revivalist tradition itself, as John Wesley himself struggled with it and created the Methodist system as a corrective. One could conclude, as Wesley did, that those who reverted to the old ways never really tasted the saving power of Christ; others, wrongly in my reading of scripture and Christian doctrine, claim that the experience itself authenticates one as “saved” for eternity. Apparently, change is optional. Tell it to Paul.

That brings me to the subject of the day, and of the brief passage below. Transformation happens not by an emotional experience, but by the renewing of the mind. We may well experience—and many may well need—the jolt of the emotions provided by the revivalist approach. But change will only come when the mind is changed. We need to think differently about things if we are going to act differently. We need to unlearn some things, some of which were certainties before the word of God pointed in a different direction. We will have to take a look at the ideas we’ve adopted from the culture, along with the ones we didn’t even think were open to serious challenge.

But there’s more to it than turning the faith into an intellectual battle with “worldly” ideas. As Paul’s argument continues, we find that we are called into action immediately, requiring a different attitude and set of habits toward the people we live with and encounter on a regular basis. Is it the case that these ways of dealing with people constitute the renewing of the mind as much as the bigger worldview questions?

Miller’s full article here:

It’s interesting to note that if we think one must be “saved” from spiritual separation from God–by mainly the act of a conscious choice–the mentally handicapped and others are excluded. It also erodes some of the proper understanding of God’s sovereign work (as if Salvation is “up to us”).

If however we see both the hunger to seek the truth about life and God, and also we perceive the work and indwelling of God, (seen best in the fruit of the Holy Spirit), we may be noticing the blossoming of God’s continuous work (of which is largely a mystery).

It seems we must be careful to understand the entire process, including the disciple-making (training) and sanctification process, post-decision…if “the decision” is even the crux of it all in the first place. For us it may seem pivotal, but later a deeper experience could follow, yet for God, it’s one long Story that includes his work, and us (individually) and the rest of humanity.

In truth we have a limited and frail concept of what God, by his grace, gives us.

What are your ideas regarding salvation or conversion?

Some flowery information:

(found here)
Chavatzelet HaSharon (Hebrew חבצלת השרון) is an onion-like flower bulb. (Hebrew חבצלת ḥăḇaṣṣeleṯ) is a flower of uncertain identity translated as the Rose of Sharon in English language translations of the Bible. Etymologists have inconclusively linked the Biblical חבצלת to the words בצל beṣel, meaning ‘bulb’, and חמץ ḥāmaṣ, which is understood as meaning either ‘pungent’ or ‘splendid’ (The Analytical Hebrew and Chaldee Lexicon). The name Rose of Sharon first appears in English in 1611 in the King James Version of the Bible. According to an annotation of Song of Solomon 2:1 by the translation committee of the New Revised Standard Version, “Rose of Sharon” is a mistranslation of a more general Hebrew word for “crocus”.
The most accepted interpretation for the Biblical reference is the Pancratium maritimum, which blooms in the late summer just above the high-tide mark. The Hebrew name for this flower is חבצלת or חבצלת החוף (coastal ḥăḇaṣṣeleṯ). It is commonly assumed by most people in Israel that, the Sharon plainbeing on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea, the Biblical passage refers to this flower.

Likely "rose of Sharon" Mediterranean Sea flower (lily)

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Beyond Daffodils …

Easter Sunday Daffs

I took this photo on Easter Sunday at my mother’s house. Currently, at my house, my daffodils have passed, withering beyond their peak, and will suffer the fate of the lawn mower, once my husband gets to them.

Spring is fully here, and most of the trees have gotten leaves, and have begun their growing season. And most of us, will ease into the routines of warmer weather, and longer periods of sunlight.

From there we will either grow, or be distracted. We’ll sink our roots deeper into being, and understanding, or we’ll get acquainted with flitting from thing to thing–like a bee rushing from flower to flower.

I love the daffodils, but I really enjoy watching how the trees meander through the summer days. First they blossom or tiny leaves come out. The leaves are impossibly light green, and fresh born. Then they take shape, and unfold. They spread out, and expand in size, getting richer and deeper in hue. Finally they look like unfolded umbrellas, but reaching upward to catch sun rays, or cup rainwater for insects. The wind blows, and the tree will seem to be tossing its new head of hair proudly, firmly standing its ground, and being.

It’s time to move beyond daffodils.

The trees of the fields will clap their hands.

How might you do it?

What are some of your thoughts lately?

The Suffering Grape

Once I stepped on a grape, and it gave out a little whine. But never I did I imagine it had suffered.

I was watching a bit of a travel episode on Rick Stevens’ Europe show the other day. It does get a little annoying to see how much fun he’s having sometimes. As I was sweltering in my living room, he was sitting on a chair in a boat on the river, sipping wine, and the lovely breeze was blowing his hair. What a nice gig, I thought! as I wiped the upper lip sweat from face, and tried to get my hair up in a ponytail.

Rick went to a vineyard in the region of Burgundy. Wines in France are not named after the grape from which they are made, but for the particular region from which they come. Each area has a particular blend of soils that produces a unique flavor in the grape. Even a few hundred yards can create a whole different tasting grape.

When Rick remarked on the soil there, and he said, “This doesn’t look like good soil for growing.” I agreed. The soil was light brown, (much like the picture below) and looked nothing like the futile, jet black soil in the midwest bread-basket of the USA, like Iowa, where millions of acres produce abundant crops.

“No,” the vineyard expert said.

She said that the soil has to be bad. The grape has to work very hard to get the good from the soil to become its best, to become sweet, and to become just right for the most amazing and flavorful wine. She said, “The grapes have to suffer!”

It seems to be one of the most incredibly common notions that struggle and suffering is bad, or negative.I know I don’t like it much. Yet, when has anything truly good come to fruition without struggle? Putting someone through suffering is a  wholly different matter, and I stress that we mustn’t ever assume the role of victimizer, to produce good in someone or not. Here, I speak instead about our personal perspective on our own suffering and struggle.

It’s easy to think, “Oh no ,something is totally wrong!” when we suffer, or that good isn’t being created in or around us, somehow, in the midst of it all. Some suffering is unavoidable, like sickness, or accidents. In those times, maybe we can remember the suffering grape who can never be a fine vintage without being planted in poor, harsh,ill-suited soil. It works hard to find the nutrients it needs, but alas, it does find the goodness to be healthy, and sweet. All this time I thought the only grapes that suffered were just the raisins!

Are you suffering? Take encouragement in this story. Leave a comment if you’d like.

The picture below is under a Creative Commons license from photographer “focalplane” at Flickr (image). Note the photograph’s interesting information from the artist below. 

French grapes

Photographer’s notes:

Within the Coteaux de Languedoc Cru “La Clape” near Fleury. 
Geologically this is an interesting area with soils derived from both volcanics and limestones, so the terroir, also influenced by proximity to the sea, makes for interesting wines, both red and white.
These photos were taken on the road between Fleury and the coast.