Aromas are powerful, and they matter. In third grade at Deepstep school, one of my classmates often brought a cluster of Sweetshrub shoots to our teacher. Although I don’t recall the student’s name, I definitely recall that pleasant aromatic scent from those blossoms. I always wished for such a plant in our yard. After leaving for college, I forgot about that delicious aroma; life, family, and time moved along.
After moving in with Jennifer, my daughter, we began customizing the landscape of our place. She had some wonderful ideas giving it a pleasing look. One day a year or so ago, I saw pictures of some beautiful flowers, posted on FaceBook by Colline, one of Jennifer’s former colleagues. Among them were Sweetshrubs. So I asked if she ever had any volunteer shoots pop up would she save one for me? She said she would be happy to.
I forgot about the Sweetshrub, but Colline had not. Last week she called and said the Sweetshrub plant is ready. She brought a potted, healthy Sweetshrub—about two feet tall. The pot also hosted two fledgling volunteer Japanese Maples. What a bonus! Jennifer and I are delighted. I am not a Botanist, so I looked up my new gift; it is an Eastern Sweetshrub, perfectly suited for our area. We picked out a place for our plant, and this weekend I hope to have it snuggly ensconced in its own special spot.
My maternal grandmother was a devoted gardener, and it was a pleasure helping her with her plants. One of the recent additions Jennifer and I made in our flower garden is ligustrum, which which I remember Grandmother had in abundance. She also had beautiful Dahlias. We won’t be adding Dahlias; they are too delicate, too needy for me. Today I am immensely grateful; for my friend Colline who carefully curated this grand Sweetshrub, for the fragrance and memory it brings me, and that we have this treasure in our garden.
A subtext of this story is that of aroma. The whiff of a flower, food, or fragrance can launch a vivid journey down memory lane. It recalls friendships, gatherings, and events of the past. I think of the time when Jesus was visiting in the home of his friends in Bethany. Mary bathed his feet with costly perfume. As John describes it, the fragrance filled the house. (emphasis mine) It was a time when fragrance became the basis for the memory of Jesus’ sacrifice. The Apostle Paul picks up on the fragrance theme; Harking back to Old Testament times, when burnt sacrifices of animals were offered to God, Paul remembers how those aromas reminded him of time in the Temple, and God’s Presence.
I resonate with Paul. As a child, growing up in the Deepstep Methodist Church, we only had Holy Communion occasionally. Our pastor served a circuit of four churches—rotating preaching in a different church each Sunday . We couldn’t have Holy CommIon on the usual first Sunday of the month. However, I could always tell when it was Communion Sunday as soon as the church door opened; the aroma of Welch’s Grape Juice filled the sanctuary. It’s aroma was a pleasant welcome.
Aromas make a powerful impression on the soul (read brain, heart, mind). The Scriptures are rife with references to the sweet smell of incense. Having a distinctive aroma, the incense was a powerful reminder of the presence of God Some churches still use incense to remind worshipers of the Presence of God. A multi-sensory experience in worship is powerful—the smell of oak pews, flowers in the chancel area, the aroma of candles being lit. And. don’t forget–Welch’s Grape juice being poured! (full disclosure–I do not own stock in Welch’s,).
©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2024
“Pass-along”plants are the best! My mother loved flowers and always gave cuttings to relatives and friends who came to visit her in her later years. With you, I treasure my sense of smell. You and Jennifer are on the right track with gifts beyond price, and your flower beds reflect friendships – the best gift of all.
I remember the Sweetshrub. I use to take the little flowers and tie them up in the corner of a handkerchief. Hope you have good luck with your plant. Have a good weekend.
Willis, I love the old native sweet scrub. I still remember the sweet smell. Thanks for your linking it with communion and worship.
Thanks, Lowrey. I think —- in our attempt to distance our liturgy from the Roman Catholics, we missed something of the sensory experience. When I would walk into the Deepstep Methodist Church and Holy Communion was planned, I knew it, just as soon aas I opened the door. That smell of Welch’s Grape Juice still has something of a holy aromo to me to this day.