Hardy or Tender? Look, See, Pray

Hardy or tender? This has suddenly become the priority question for English gardeners. Frost is starting to turn our gardens into a killing zone. Colourful stars of the summer like dahlias and pelargoniums are quaking to their roots! Shrubs like this fuchsia have had a rude awakening… some must be rescued, others may survive- time will tell.

Hardy plants are so useful: year after year, through summer and winter, they survive almost anything the seasons send against them. Tough as boots, some of them.

Tender specimens can fall over at the first crystalline kiss of Jack Frost.

Both types have their beauty and distinctive contribution to make. Our British gardens are enriched by species collected from all over the world: but we have to learn about their needs, vulnerabilities, and how to place them to best advantage. And, of course, our native plants also have riches to add to our treasury of colour, form, and fruit.

The problem is this. A novice gardener has to learn (often the hard way!) and frequently is taught by the change of external circumstances. Winter is coming…

I suppose you could draw a parallel with people and organisations. This year has slapped our faces with a dangerous illness. We react to the new circumstances according to our essential nature- there is loss, hardship, courage, despair, and hope… When the new season begins, what will still be standing? What will re-grow? What is gone for ever?

From a church viewpoint, I have noticed a miracle! Nobody has said “We’ve never done it this way before…”

We have made use of Zoom, given thanks for broadband, tried to find new ways to care for each other, offer pastoral support, pray and worship, teach and encourage. Are those efforts perfect? No. But they are good. Do we miss meeting together? Of course.

We’ve never done it before… So let’s do it NOW! Let’s work together, challenge discrimination and injustice, let’s share love, compassion and sincere faith. Let’s change the things that were broken for something new and better!

Some church denominations (whose way of being church is based on a priestly, sacramental, and heirarchical theology) are pleading with the government for permission to meet in their church buildings. There is a clash between their way of “doing church” and the “love your neighbour by not giving them Covid-19.”

Other church fellowships are saying the Government “has no authority to tell us not to worship God.”

I understand their opinions and pain. Our year is blighted by frost! Yet I believe our response to the horrible change of circumstances could be more adventurous. It is an opportunity to live out our faith in different ways and discover that new methods can still be life-giving and worshipful. All of us should be observing sensible rules on distancing, using masks, maximising hygiene, protecting the most vulnerable- wherever we worship.

I miss not meeting with others: family, friends, church. I’ll queue up for the vaccines which can help restore “normal” life. But I really hope that we won’t just go back to the ways things were. Those ways are broken. Society is broken. Families are broken. The racism, poverty and injustice that afflicted too many should NOT be re-instated by default.

Jesus spoke of “new wine needing new wineskins.” New life can’t be contained in worn-out, brittle institutions.

He also said “My Father is the Gardener.”

May the Gardener tend us all, so that next year will be full of colourful flowers, strong plants, and a great harvest.

Flame fingers- Look, See, Pray

Flame-finger’d fronds
fight the creeping frost.
October gone, so winter’s eye
turns to leaves not yet vanquished in the cold.
How long to stay?
November gales shriek, laughing,
for summer is but memory-
and leaf-husks rattle at the roots.

Bold glow of orange, crimson stems,
holding remember’d warmth –
Clinging to shades of Spring gone by
when days were long and sap rose swift
in triumph and strength, now lost…
Can we hold till Christmas?
Or must yield to holly and captive firs
making merry at the wake of the season?

In restful peace we shall sleep,
careless of snow and icy dawns.
Deep in the earth our strength lies hidden
until lengthening days and warming Sun
bid us reach for the heavens
and sound the trumpet of daffodil’s Spring.
For now, whilst our flames can hold tight,
we give joy to the soul of those growing cold.

Prayers and poems grasp promises
that life and love and God
may seem to pause in winter’s chill yet
Renewed again, and rested, we shall stand.
Colours leaking to leaf-mould now
are never wasted, but shall return.
God speaks in colours!
Nature sings a symphony, music for the soul.

(Copyright Richard Starling, 2020)

Silent now- Look, See, Pray

We will Remember.

Silent now
Thunder of guns faded
no shouts or screams to remember
the ones whose footsteps lingered in muddy fields.

Nothing here
until poppy-seeds buried
come to flower in blood-soaked clay.
And poets, seeking to soften loss of so many, too soon,
Saw each petal, flower, and stem as soldiers standing to mourn.

Not just the fields
Warfare blights the deserts, the skies and sea.
Countless men, fathers, brothers, sons
Women, too, have paid with blood and sorrow
Children plucked from homes
communities shattered, bombed, derided-
Where is the Dove of Peace?

If only
all war were just
If only
war were no more.

Blood-red poppies
from the battlefields
tell the story of courage and loss.
We will remember
we will honour their memory
we will grieve their passing
and thankfully receive freedom,
not to be taken carelessly or held in scorn.

We will remember
the ones who never came home-
and those who came back changed and lost.
Blind and maimed, with empty eyes,
and shadowed thoughts.

We will remember.
A poppy worn in remembrance,
in hope of lasting peace,
a yearning for justice and fairness for all.
A poppy worn for what has been
and for what, we pray, may not come again.

Now for widow, orphan, refugee and victim
may there be hope of peace
of safety, of a home where war does not call.
May sword be re-cycled
and rifle laid aside
and tanks and planes and battleships
fall into disuse until they rust
and war shall be no more.

Then the blood-red poppy
shall be left to grow in peace.

We will remember.

(Copyright Richard Starling 10th Nov 2020)

I’ve done it again! – Look, See, Pray

I’ve done it again! Despite multiple failures, I’ve done it again. Will I ever learn?

A pleasant if wearying session in the garden, weeding out the really successful plants (weeds) and making room for the hopefuls for next Spring. I have planted crocus (crocii, crocuses, take your pick) once again. Not a good track record, never yet does the reality match my dream. So this year I’ve cheated. I have NOT planted any yellow ones- in my experience yellow crocus is just a salad bar for early slugs and naughty birds.

So then, purple, plus purple/white stripes, and pale lilac-colour. Cracked it! It was lovely to have my hands in the soil, pulling wicked weed roots, ripping out the dying marigolds, and making room for the greatest show on earth! 2021, Aldwick, West Sussex- the best display of crocus EVER.

This is being a gardener. It is a life of undying passionate optimistic HOPE. That which I have planted SHALL be floriferous, gaudy, and perfectly gorgeous. There, see, I’ve said it- again.

If only the RHS gave gold medals for dandelion or couch grass. Did you know couch grass has other names? “Twitch” or “scutch” or “Aarrgghhh.”

“Scutch” sounds like a loathsome skin disease… should I pray and command it to be healed, and never return?

Time for some better and more responsible theology, I think! The thing common to true gardeners is the kind of hope that carries on from year to year, always confident that this time the sweat will earn rewards of beauty, or stunning veg, or sumptious fruit. It is a lifestyle of hope despite hard labour and many discouragements.

Now I ache. All of me aches. Kneeling… not sure if getting down there is hardest, or getting back up… I gave the grass its final(?) cut for 2020, planted crocus and alliums, moved a couple of plants, put down mulch, pulled up this years’ crop of annuals, swept the path… and somewhere during all that I had a sudden sense of physical and emotional relief. Two reasons- first, I heard the very welcome news that “Scutch” Trump lost the election and may be composted in January: and second, the sheer joy of working with living, growing things of beauty and great potential. A surge of hope and confidence! Simply lovely. But I still ache.

We can live in hope, or shrivel in despair. Sheer hard graft may be essential (especially in the garden!) and doing the hard yards can be discouraging. Here are a few words from the Apostle Paul, addressed to the early Church. Hopeful words… when we sow/plant, we have hope of a harvest.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” – Galatians 6:9 (ANIV)

“So let’s not allow ourselves to get fatigued doing good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don’t give up, or quit.” – The Message.

Live in hope.

Fading into Gold- Look, See, Pray

All changing… things becoming new.

After the stormy winds and rain, today started in frost and sunshine under a clear blue sky. The autumn is bringing its own changes- as hours of sunlight lessen, the leaves and grasses change colour. Warmer browns and orange shades compensate for the cooler air, and diamond dust is scattered generously with touch of icy breath.

Reeds catching the light are backlit with a golden glow. As the greens of summer fade, the Light transforms the park into a parade of golden sculptures that hiss and rustle in the breeze.

It has been a lovely day.

The affairs of humankind have been changing too. Election fever has raised the temperatures in the United States, sadly generating friction and heat but little light! At this point, the final result is undecided. People have been passionately campaigning and complaining, tempers are hot, and the world looks on in sorrow. How has democracy been reduced to petulant squabbles? Who decided it was OK to play games with truth?

Perhaps the dawn will bring clarity. Whichever party wins, the war of words is likely to continue for some time. Given a choice, my preference would be clear. But it isn’t my election, not even my country- so although the outcome matters greatly, I am an observer rather than a participant. People from across the divide will be sad, angry, confused, bitter. So what can I say or do?

I can be grateful and thankful for the blessings of a fine day; and I can choose to trust that the Sovereign Lord God Almighty is able to deal with tomorrow, the day after… and so on. One day at a time, I live in the love and grace of God- and I hope that the Light of the World will keep transforming me into golden Christlike beauty.

I cannot control the world, and shouldn’t try. It’s all in the divine Hand that holds us safely.

So, Lord, on that note:

Thank You for the blessings of this day, and I shall commit my way to You. I pray for the best possible outcome in all the changes, and ask You to bring truth, justice, and reconciliation wherever there is strife, disaster or sickness. Please, Lord, aid those seeking to combat Covid-19 with wisdom and compassion. Bless our hospitals and healthworkers, our key workers from cleaners to kings, and help us find the beauty among change and the uncertainty of our fragile lives. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Seriously, spiders? Look, See, Pray

I’m taking a risk here… will the photos of spiders prevent people looking at this post? Halloween last night- pumpkins lit up, fake webs, ghoulish costumes (and lots of little kids having fun and getting sweets).

Halloween and spiders have something in common. They can frighten us. Well, there is important information we need to know about what they represent. Scary stuff and Death are two important subjects we don’t talk about much. Halloween parties can take some of the sting out of sensitive and frightening topics: but it can be overdone, and become too scary! (The big emphasis on Halloween costumes has come over from the USA and I think it can be overdone.) Did you know, from the Middle Ages, builders of castles and cathedrals adorned them with gargoyles in order to scare away evil and prevent the devil entering. Same principle.

Historically, Halloween is a weekend when Christians have celebrated the triumph of Christ over death- and Sunday is “All Hallows Day” when we remember with thanks all those we have loved and lost. The assurance we hold is that Death itself is NOT the final ending. Perhaps we should take a little time today to give thanks for the lives of those special ones we miss and still grieve over.

Spiders are scary (to many people). They are small, fast, creepy and look strange & alarming! I woke up once to see a large black wolf-spider on my pillow, an inch from my nose, and walking away from my face… Ugh!!! Their habit of building cobwebs has been responsible for loads of humans suddenly doing intense aerobic exercise as we try and get rid of that stuff all over our face!

But most spiders are harmless to humans, and won’t or can’t bite us (mostly). A few, like the Black Widow and tarantula can give a nasty bite- and I’m told Australia has a few doozies– but we still have a strong reaction to all spiders.

Experts tell us that spiders do an amazing job of pest control, including chomping enormous numbers of mosquitoes. I am all in favour of that. Go spiders!

Dare I suggest that if we take a closer look we might find how wonderful they are? Consider their ability to manufacture such fine, tough silk. Enormously strong. The engineering ability of a spider to design and built those webs with such precision. Now, I do agree with all those who say that’s fine when it’s not in my house…

Rather like using Halloween masks, our fright needs to be faced in a “safe” way. Survival instincts kick in whenever there is a risk of pain or death, the inner alarm system goes off and we respond to the perceived threat. There are scary things in the world. We are afraid.

We can scare fear away by facing the scary. Death need have no power over us; Jesus Christ has been raised from the dead, and we live in Him. Spiders might be creepy, and you may never “like” them, but they do an amazing job for us controlling the populations of flies, midges, mosquitoes and the like. See, spiders have their good side too.

Fear, out of control, is cripplingly destructive. But we don’t have to live in fear. God doesn’t play “Trick or Treat” on us. God is love. And if you don’t want to look at the spiders, read this instead: 1 John 4:18 (Message) There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgment—is one not yet fully formed in love.

God is forming us with love. Out with the ghouls, and fill your soul with love instead of fear.