Is That Perfect Rose Too Perfect? Is God?

Last updated on: September 6, 2016 at 12:01 am by Barbara Falconer Newhall

Is That Perfect Rose Too Perfect? Is God? 2016-09-01T15:28:57-08:00 Barbara Falconer Newhall

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

Pink Japanese anemones in flower. Can flowers be too perfect? Photo by Barbara Newhall

Our front yard Japanese anemones in summer flower. Photo by Barbara Newhall

By Barbara Falconer Newhall

It’s September, which means it’s still summertime in California and things are still blooming like mad in my front yard rock garden. So bear with me if my thoughts turn once again to nature’s urge to flower.

Flowers. The fine artist wannabe in me asserts that flowers are just too nice and too darned pretty to be the subject of Real Art. That perfect rose is just too perfect.

Real Art needs grit. It needs to be problematic. It needs tension. It needs woe and desolation. Something has to be askew. But flowers, by their very nature, fail the tension test. They never seem troubled to me, or even ruffled.

Whenever I find myself face-to-face with a plant in bloom, be it a hot house orchid or a forget-me-not growing up through the pavement cracks by our mailbox, I am beguiled by its perfection. By its completeness.

Orange abutilon blossoms hangs from its stem in a California garden. the Perfect flower. Photo by Barbara Newhall

An abutilon blossom hangs along our fence. Photo by Barbara Newhall

I can’t take my eyes off the thing.

There is something about a Japanese anemone in bloom, or an abutilon nodding from its stem, something that reckons on being looked at. Just as fragrance is meant to be breathed, and texture fingered, so is a flower meant to capture the eye. A bee’s eye. A hummingbird’s eye. Your eyes and mine.

A flower in full bloom has something in common with the teachings of the world’s great wisdom traditions: they are so, so nice. So unapologetically upbeat. Yes, they say, God is actually, really and truly in her heaven and all is right with the world. “All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well,” as of Julian of Norwich wrote.

My husband would rather I not cut flowers from the garden and bring them into the house. He can’t bear their evanescence. They make him sad; he knows that sooner or later, like the humans in his life who have passed away, they will shrivel and die. They always do. Death and decay are embedded in that abutilon’s DNA.

So, yeah. It turns out that perfect blossom has woe and desolation aplenty. Does that make it a work of art?

More flowers — preserved and arranged by the experts — at “Where Poppies Dance and Cactuses Are Petit Fours,” “It’s Art — But Is It a Bouquet?” and “A Final Toss of the Bouquet.”

Uncategorized

Previous Post

July 26, 2016

My Mother's Stuff -- Is That All That's Left of Her?

Next Post

November 6, 2016 Am I Trump's Idea of a Pathetic Loser?

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category Uncategorized

Select a Month January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 September 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 August 2015 July 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

What Christian group is known for the doctrine of purgatory?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Baptists Methodists Catholics Lutherans