Tag: Mr G

A rare and joyous beauty

The Dog-Wood Rose. Photo by Gill Henwood.

The hedgerows are arching with dog rose blooms, buzzing with bees and heralding summer.”

My friend Gill has sent me this photo of a dog-rose growing in the Lakeland hedgerow near her home. It is a sign that summer is bursting forth in our part of the world, even though June rain storms try to tell us otherwise!
The dog-rose is perfect for pollinators such as bees and later in autumn, as its blooms are transformed into rose-hips, it is a source of food for birds.

The legend that gave it its name is attributed to ancient times. It is suggested that the Roman naturalist, Pliny, encouraged a belief that the plant’s roots could cure the bite of a mad dog. Hence its botanical name is ‘Rosa Canina’. The plant was popular for treating bites from rabid dogs in the 18th and 19th centuries.
Another view is that the name is related to the hooked prickles of the plant which have a look of dog’s teeth. It’s thorny, unruly stems make it an ideal hedge plant, giving it a density which allows it to do it’s job of protection.
It may, of course, simply mean wild rose, of which there are several species, to differentiate it from cultivated and posher roses! Maybe that could remind us that wild beauty is a God-given pointer that Nature has its own way of painting our world with a rare and joyous beauty.

This can  be related to some of the meanings of the dog-rose.
One such meaning is that of Purity’, especially in a religious and spiritual sense.
It is also known for its resilience’ in that, whilst having delicate flowers, it can withstand harsh conditions.
In affairs of the heart the Dog-Rose has been linked with ‘love and beauty’, in many cultures and mythologies. In Victorian times the flowers were given as a sign of affection  which, if returned, suggested an interest in marriage. You can always trust the Victorians to find ways of expressing sentimentality.

Though there is no specific reference to the Dog-Rose in the Bible, it has been linked with the Rose of Sharon In the Song of Solomon 2:1, we read : I am the rose of Sharon, the lily of the valleys.
Links have also been drawn with Isaiah 11: I – a shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse and from his roots a bud shall blossom, which has been interpreted as a reference to Jesus.
There is no real link with the Dog-Rose in either passages and the Rose of Sharon is usually taken to refer to the plant, Hibiscus Synacus.

However, in one symbolic meaning of the plant, there is a direct link with Jesus Christ. The Dog-Rose is strongly associated with Rebirth-and Resurrection. This is partly because of its association with love and purity but it is also linked with a legend about the Crucifixion of Jesus.
In this legend there is a suggestion that the tree was once very large and the wood was strong. It was thus able to be used in Crucifixion.
According to the story it was the dogwood tree that was used to make the Cross on which Jesus was crucified. Because of this, it is said that God both cursed and blessed it.
It was destined to be forever small so that it could never grow strong and tall again and be used as a cross for crucifixion. Also, its branches would be crooked and twisted which would make it useless for such a purpose.
Then God also blessed it. It would produced beautiful flowers each Spring, white or pink, as a sign of Easter glory. God also made its petals in the shape of the Cross, each flower having four such petals. In the centre was a crown of gold.

Like all legends there are things that could be disputed but, legends are never made-up stories nor fanciful thoughts. They always contain a truth which, whilst sometimes clothed in mystery, leads us into a deeper understanding. God is always bigger than the words and thoughts we have of him and we would be wise to see His signs and hear His language in Nature and in the Cosmos and also in our hearts where God’s Spirit constantly dwells. So the lovely Dog-Rose has much to teach us and we who seek God’s truth have always more to learn.

In this spirit, I print below an anonymous version of the Legend.
Make of it what you will but don’t just dismiss it for it may be that otherwise you will, to quote the poet Frances Thompson, you may miss the many splendid thing.

Mr. G. 6th June 2025

Quiet Garden

Rosemary’s Quiet Garden at Dunmow, Essex. photo by Mr G.

Quiet Garden

In the Quiet Garden
birds sing antiphonally
in the monastery of the air.

Ducks murmur gossip
across the pond
informing prayer[!],
as a bee hovers lazily
over new mown grass.

Carefully manicured borders
teem with joyful colour
as plants flower,
gratefully supping May-time air
fuelling their thirst for new life.

Nearby, a church bell,
a single, insistent chime, repeating,
marking the moment;
calling to prayer.
Insects of varying kind respond,
their plainchant lifting our souls.

Nature speaks to nature
nurturing all Creation within,
where God waits to draw us
into the Divine heart.

Roses in the Garden at Dunmow. Photo by Mr G.

Mr G.
24th May 2025.
[inspired by Rosemary’ Drew’s Garden at Dunmow, Essex,
offered as part of the Quiet Garden movement,
as a place of spiritual refreshment and re-creation]

Jesus in Gethsemane

[photo from Gill Henwood – of the area near the Black Mountains, Bhutan]

Jesus prays in Gethsemane

On the night of his betrayal, Jesus took his disciples to the Garden of Gethsemane, near the Mount of Olives. He asked them to pray for themselves and then went to a place by himself. He prayed to his Father that he might be released from the trial and crucifixion ahead of him. But he also prayed that his Father’s will should prevail. The humanity of Jesus cried out and his anguish caused his sweat to fall like drops of blood. An angel from heaven came to strengthen him. His disciples were fast asleep. Then the Roman soldiers came to the garden to arrest him….    (St Luke’s Gospel Chapter 22: 39-53)

Gethsemane

This is his Passion.
Darkness wraps around his very being,
not a warming cloak but a shroud.
Silence, punctured by friends
snoring off the wellbeing of food,
minds sloshed with wine.
Alone with the shivers of the night,
everything in him protests.

Sometimes, when we know our destiny,
our minds close.
Not this! No! Never!
But our hearts are our undoing:                                 
our resolve begins; ends there.
So he battles with his need to say ‘Yes’,
for himself, for others,
for us.
How else can the world know what it is to be loved?

Kneeling on the damp ground,
tense, numb,
scared, uncertain, he waits.
And the Father waits too as demons and angels whirl,
stirring up the black air, a vortex of cosmic battle.
Below them, sweat drops as blood.
And still the Father waits, listening expectantly,
daring to hope…

God wrestling desperately with God
with everything – just everything – at stake.
This really is the Passion.
He sighs, deeply,
calm descends.
“Yes, let it be.”

The Father wraps his love around him
– and so too around us.

[Mr G. ]

David’s heralds

Spring art study, by my friend, Kay Gibbons

DAVID’S Heralds.

They stand erect,
a legion of trumpeting angels
finely dressed,
sounding a fanfare of hope.

Massing together,
bright instruments burst forth,
dazzling our hearts,
as slender blades
cast out the winter dark.

With each opening bud,
bright yellow messages tell
of Spring coming near.

Oh, to be Welsh !

[Mr G. St. David’s Day, 1st March 2025]