Tag Archives: flowers

Learning from Plants, Trees and Flowers

I discovered on Google books an old study of plants and trees by Richard Folkard, an English botanist. (Plant Lore, Legends and Lyrics, London 1884)  It’s a treasure of information.

Folkard says that from earliest times people saw religious meaning in plants, flowers and trees. He writes especially about how they were seen in medieval times.

“In the dark ages the Catholic monks , who cultivated with assiduity all sorts of herbs and flowers in their monastic gardens , came in time to associate them with traditions of the Church , and to look upon them as emblems of particular saints . Aware , also , of the innate love of humanity for flowers , they selected the most popular as symbols of the Church festivals , and in time every flower became connected with some saint of the Calendar , either from flowering at the time of the saint’s day , or from being connected with the saint in some old legend…

But it was more especially upon the Virgin Mary that the early Church bestowed their floral symbolism … The poetry no less than the piety of Europe has inscribed to her the whole bloom and colouring of the fields and hedges.  The choicest flowers were wrested from the classic Juno , Venus , and Diana , and from the Scandinavian Bertha and Freyja , and bestowed upon the Madonna , whilst floral offerings of every sort were laid upon her shrines . 

Her husband , Joseph , has allotted to him a white Campanula , which in Bologna is known as the little Staff of St. Joseph . In Tuscany the name of St. Joseph’s staff is given to the Oleander. A  legend recounts that the good Joseph possessed originally only an ordinary staff , but that when the angel announced to him that he was destined to be the husband of the Virgin Mary , he became so radiant with joy , that his very staff flowered in his hand…

A Catholic writer complained that at the Reformation the very names of plants were changed in order to divert men’s minds from the least recollection of ancient Christian piety A  Protestant writer of the last century , bewailing the ruthless action of the Puritans in giving to the ” Queen of Beauty ” flowers named after the ” Queen of Heaven , ” says :’Botany , which in ancient times was full of the Blessed Virgin Mary , is now as full of the heathen Venus .’ ” 

Folkard reminds us that the monks were good catechists. That work of theirs is largely ignored today. If you consult Wikipedia’s listings of trees and plants, there’s  hardly a trace of that Catholic tradition. I wonder if we shouldn’t mine that tradition again as we try to enhance our care of the earth. Clover .spearmint, foxglove, lupine,  campanula, marigolds, cowslip, Lady’s mantel, Lady’s bedstraw are more than a genus and species. They once spoke of the mysteries of God. 

Can we learn from them again?

Friday Thoughts: Being qua Being


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Learn from the way the wild flowers grow.

—Matthew 6:28


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Does a flower make pronouncements? Does it define itself? Does it box itself in with titles, names, and distinctions?

And yet, “not even Solomon in all his splendor was clothed like one of these.” (Matthew 6:29)

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A flower simply exists.

And its existence glorifies God.

There is no need for it to do more.

By its very existence it magnifies what cannot be further magnified: God’s Presence, God’s Glory, God’s Beauty…

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“I’m a flower.”

“I’m a rose.”

“Look at me!”

Statements such as these we shall never hear.

Flowers are divinely indifferent to the world’s definitions and distinctions, to its approval and applause.

After all, it’s a person who receives the medal at an orchid show, and not the flower herself. No, her finely-placed petals would only be weighed down by such metallic-based ribbons.

What a gift it is to simply exist.

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Flowers don’t cling to seasonal life.

When it’s time to go, they gracefully drop their heads and lose their pedals.

Never has there existed a man as poor as a flower.

Never has mankind so possessed the richness of fleeting, transitory, and momentary life.

It’s their genius to instinctively believe that death leads to new abundant life.

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Flowers graciously receive:

Ladybugs, drops of dew. Beams of light, the relief of shade.

Flowers give and receive as if not a single thing has ever been made by man.

They welcome sun as well as rain.

They never cry over fallen fruit or a stolen piece of pollen.

They quietly applaud instead, rejoicing that their little ones have the opportunity to travel abroad—perhaps even the chance to help nurture a neighbor.

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A flower, perhaps most of all, knows it place.

It never wishes to be bigger or thinner…greener or higher…it never dreams of being more like a tree.

A flower’s blessing is simplicity beyond you and me.

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Christ is a flower.

He is the one true perfect eternal flower, through whom all other flowers partake, toward whom all other flowers reach.

Christ is a flower. His ways are not our own. He simply exists. Bowing His head. Dropping pedals. Feeding hungry bees. Giving and receiving. His identity is crucified—leaving nothing behind but being “qua” being.


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If God so clothes the grass of the field, which grows today and is thrown into the oven tomorrow, will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith?

—Matthew 6:30


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—Howard Hain
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(Dedicated to Brother Jim, a man who knew how to simply exist.)

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