FRAGRANCE

Oh, the art of producing artificial flowers! My local craft store has row after row of fake flowers. So lovely to look at. But no fragrance, no life. Just looks. The landscaping at our home wouldn’t make it into a gardening magazine, but we do have a front yard rose area that showcases living color in spring through fall.  Sometimes when I’m outside doing yardwork, somebody walking by will pause and ask about the roses. Often they ask about fragrance, so I invite them to sniff certain ones. I know that those who write descriptions for garden catalogs have intriguing adjectives for a rose sniff-test-- words like “dark,” “sensuous,” or “fruity.” I’m not sure how I’d describe our roses; some bushes are decades old and maybe not as pungent as when new.

Yet, when I cut blooms for a bouquet, I find myself sniffing a rose “just because.” They remind me of how the apostle Paul used the sense of smell to describe a spiritual reality. He said that those who freely and authentically live for Christ spread everywhere “the fragrance of the knowledge of him”—a quality he called “the fragrance of life” (2 Corinthians 2:14, 16).

That phrase--“fragrance of life”—reminds me of analogies in the letter of James, who used many metaphors in his writing. He describes people plagued by doubt as ships tossed in a storm (1:6). Godless rich people, as blossoms that last a day and then are tossed (1:9-11). Spiritual pretenders, as looking mindlessly in a mirror (1:23-25). People with unruly tongues, as horses without bits, ships without rudders, and uncontrolled fires (3:3-6). There’s more: tongues that curse, while boasting to belong to God, as springs capable only of foul, undrinkable water (3:9-12).

I wonder what James would have said about fake flowers, which of course didn’t exist in his time. They’re pretty, but lack fragrance, the pollen bees love, and the ability to reproduce. They're lifeless.

I’m not against fake flowers. On one nightstand I have a bouquet of artificial hydrangeas (my favorite flower which simply doesn’t grow well in my yard). Once or twice a year I hold it under a faucet to wash off the dust. I give it a shake, pat it dry, and put it back in the vase. It’s pretty, but not real. Our broken world needs the fragrant hope of Christ, and we are the living blooms in which He infuses it.

TAKE A WHIFF

The first rose—oh, the beauty! This one, exceptionally large and pure in color, captivated me as I surveyed our emerging “rose garden” in the front yard.  For months after my “winter prune” (knee high) and “spring prune” (down to skeleton stalks), there wasn’t much beauty.  Not so, now.

In God’s way of arranging coincidences, that same week I was reading a devotional that cited 2 Corinthians 2, which makes much of the contrast between the “aroma of Christ” and the “smell of death.” Verse 2 calls that aroma “the fragrance of the knowledge of him.”

From time to time, one of the high-end department stores in my town stuffs perfume samples in its newspaper ads.  Sometimes I peel back the fold-over to satisfy my curiosity about the scent. But I’m not tempted to buy. A sensitivity to scents means being around someone who wears a lot of perfume can stir up my asthma.

But being around someone who emanates the “aroma of Christ” through their kind words and actions is different—and oh, how beautiful. The devotional reminded me that God considers a life of sacrifice as a sweet perfume to Him. As I seek to live in a way that glorifies Him, a pleasant spiritual fragrance will emanate to others.

Whether we realize it or not, people are watching us. We don’t always need Bible words to witness for Christ. I thought of that when I received a not-pleasant letter from someone with emotional health issues. I took heart over these few words amidst the letter’s negatives: “I believe you are a kind person.”

I try to be.  With Christ’s help I try to be. But I am still in process of the School of Kindness as Christ prunes me to bloom for Him.

Lingering

I'm especially fond of a saying engraved on a resting bench at the University of Idaho (Moscow) arboretum:

The fragrance always remains in the hand that gives the rose.

When I “googled” it to find its author, I found décor sites offering plaques and other items with the quote. But I couldn’t find a definitive word of its author other than a quick reference to a mystic in an Eastern religion.

I still like it, because it says in metaphor what the Bible says in plain words: that when you reach out to people in encouragement and help, you bless them as well as yourself. Some of the verses that express that truth:

A generous man will proper; he who refreshes others will himself be refreshed. (Proverbs 11:25)

One man gives freely, yet gains even more; another withholds unduly, but comes to poverty. (Proverbs 11:24)

It is more blessed to give than to receive. (Acts 20:35, Paul, quoting Jesus)

If you had “all day,” I could tell you many stories of people who have given me the “rose” of encouragement and help.  Some that come to the top right now are associated with the tough mouths of recovery after I broke my ankle when I fell down some icy stairs. The timing was awful: my mother-in-law was in the early stages of Alzheimer’s disease. We were taking her meals, helping with housework, supervising laundry, and of course had taken away her car keys.  She needed me just to function.

Then PLOP. My life reduced to days of pain and disability in the recliner. Meals came in.  Someone brought ice packs I could refreeze. Another picked up stamps and mailed packages for me. My closest friend determined to “be there” (for safety) the mornings I maneuvered onto a shower bench to bathe and wash my hair. When I went from a hard cast to a take-off cast, she knelt before me, helped shave my healing leg and trim my toenails. It was such a humble, touching time. I cried. In a few years I would be doing similar things for my mother-in-law as she lost control of bodily functions and could no longer feed herself. But the “fragrance remained” as I recalled how caring friends helped me in my “temporary disability.”

This saying is not about handing somebody a bouquet purchased at the local grocery store (though I’ve done that, too). It’s about giving something you cannot be repaid for. It’s about being the hands and feet of Christ in whatever tasks He puts before us. The “fragrance remains” because it is His.

Think tank: "lovely"

Part of a series on Philippians 4:8.
What can be lovelier than a rose? I write this from my recliner within sight of a “get-well” bouquet of orange roses my husband gave me.  He watched me cough and struggle for breath for more than week, and finally took me to the clinic where I was diagnosed with pneumonia  and given a powerful prescription to fight it. How grateful I am for the hope of a “cure” in modern medicine. 

I never tire of watching roses as they unfold in sublime beauty. We have more than a dozen bushes ablaze with single-stem roses in our front yard.  Plus we have a rose hedge dotted with dozens of pink blooms.  Our rose garden, besides bringing beauty to our home, allows us to pick bouquets to communicate “congratulations” or “we care” to people in our lives.  This grace of “sharing” reminds me of an etched-in-stone message in the arboretum at the University of Idaho in Moscow, Idaho.  Amidst the splattered shadows of its pathways is a stone bench with this carved message: “The fragrance remains in the hand that gave the rose.”  In poetic brevity it reminds me of the truth that whenever I touch or serve someone in the name of Christ, I am blessed, too.

So whenever I am reminded through Philippians 4:8 to think about things that are “lovely,” I once again am taken to the life of Christ.  Someday I will see His face, and I am sure it will be so pure, compassionate and lovely that I can barely contain myself with amazement and appreciation.

Our culture defines loveliness as a composite of features considered beautiful, painted, poufed or cut into culturally pleasing combinations. The beauty industry is huge.  Little girls watch the “Miss America” pageant wanting to look like those young women.  (Hey, I did!) Or they adore the doe-eyed Disney cartoon princesses. But the Bible’s definition of “lovely” looks at character.  Here are definitions I found for the original Greek for “lovely”:

*”That which is admirable or agreeable to behold or consider.”

*”Pleasing, agreeable, lovely.”
*”Lovely and lovable.”
*”Gracious.”

Men can be lovely when the character and wisdom of Christ comes forth through their demeanor.

Women can be lovely...”paint or no paint”...when the character and wisdom of Christ comes forth through their demeanor.  One of the loveliest women of my life was a squat, gray-haired woman who wore a little lipstick “for Sundays.” But I most remember her for spreading the fragrance of Christ’s love in my life. She was part of my young adult life for less than a decade, but I will never forget her diligence in studying scripture and encouraging me with her prayers.

Think about whatever is lovely?  I can do that in savoring the beauties of God’s creation.  I can also do it in remembering those who “gave the rose” to my life.

 

Next: "of good report"

Garlands of grace

A series inspired by sights of Kauai.
Abundant in Hawaii, the fragrant plumeria blossom is popular for picking and stringing into floral garlands called leis. Here on the mainland, I’ve noticed some graduates wearing leis at commencement exercises. On celebration days in Hawaii, statues of historical figures are often draped several deep with leis. I remember being given a lei many years ago. As it was lowered onto my shoulders, I felt very honored.

Best known in Hawaiian and Samoan culture, leis share with other cultures, even from ancient times, the idea of a garland signifying honor and celebration.  Two verses in Proverbs are worth considering:

Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction and do not forsake your mother’s teaching. They will be a garland to grace your head and a chain to adorn your neck. (Proverbs 1:8-9, NIV)

Wisdom is supreme; therefore get wisdom, though it cost all you have, get understanding. Esteem her, and she will exalt you; embrace her, and she will honor you.  She will set a garland of grace on your head and present you with a crown of splendor. (Proverbs 4:7-9, NIV)

These verses presume that a parent’s advice and life example are worthy of emulating, and walking in their footsteps will bring honor and moral beauty to a young person. When parents are unable to fulfill their spiritual training role (because of distance, their own failures, or death), God can use other parent-figures to do that. I was reminded of that truth in recent weeks when two older friends died.  Lorna, a pastor’s wife, was 76, her abilities eroded her last few years by dementia. But beginning with my young adult years, she lived out before me the character worthy of God’s garland. At her funeral, many mentioned her steadfast, accepting love, and her wisdom.

Lorraine, at prayer in 2013 (then in her mid-nineties)

The other friend, Lorraine, died at 97, full of years and loved by her huge family and many friends. I met her when she came from Michigan to Washington state to visit her daughter, who lives in my town and is a close friend.  I am blessed by how her godly character lives on through that daughter. A few years ago while visiting her aging mother in Michigan, my friend quietly took a photo of her mother at prayer. Eyes closed, hand raised, her mother was absorbed in her extended daily prayer time on behalf of family and friends around the world. My friend keeps that photo by her kitchen sink.  Oh, that all of us had such a visual reminder of faithfulness! 

One more thing about plumeria: their perfume, like the “fragrance of life” that should emanate from us as Christ-lovers:

But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him. (2 Corinthians 2:14)