Monthly Archives: March 2025

The garden glows.

The last time I mentioned my plum trees here, I didn’t include a photo of the whole garden, even though I’d taken quite a few. They just didn’t convey what I was seeing. Then a storm moved in and we got drenching rains. It turns out that when the plants are well watered, at the same time that they are leafing out, they start to glow. This special condition is most noticeable when the clouds are blocking most of the sun.

Even though there aren’t many flowers — other than plum — blooming in the back garden, all the different leaf hues and textures add up to a colorful early-spring show.

I’m really grateful to those of you who told me in the comments that you don’t get tired of garden pictures. You encouraged me to keep trying, to look for new angles and views of the “same ol'” plants.

For anyone who is wondering, I’ll tell you what plants are creating the most colorful contrasts right now: Along the back fence, the tall dark reddish bushes are dodonaea, or hopbush; the flowering trees are Elephant Heart plums; the small bushes with new, tiny orange leaves are dwarf pomegranates; the cropped blue-gray bushes along the path are lavender; the pale green swath in front of the plum tree is nigella or Love-in-a-Mist; and olive trees are growing in the big white pots.

In these views you can’t see all the weeds that are also springing up, and with the continuing rains I know there will be more of those to keep up with. But let’s not think about work just yet. There’s a fire in the wood stove, and it’s the season for watching from inside my cozy house as the the cold wind blows outside, making a wild moving picture of my glorious garden.

What springs from unity.

St. Gregory Nazianzus (or Nazianzen), also known as St. Gregory the Theologian, is one of the Three Holy Hierarchs of the Orthodox Church, along with St. Basil the Great and St. John Chrysostom; and one of The Cappadocian Fathers, along with St. Gregory of Nyssa and St. Basil the Great (of Caesarea). He has been called The Trinitarian Theologian, and you can read a snippet of such theology below. I was intrigued by his also being called The Minstrel of the Holy Trinity, evidently because of his poetic style, and spiritual poetry. I will be looking more into that.

“The opinions about deity that hold pride of place are in number: atheism, polytheism and monotheism. With the first two the children of Greece amused themselves. Let the game go on! Atheism with its lack of a governing principle involves disorder. Polytheism with a plurality of such principles, involves faction and hence the absence of a governing principle, and this involves disorder again. Both lead to an identical result — lack of order, which, in turn, leads to disintegration.

“Monotheism, with its single governing principle, is what we value — not monotheism defined as the sovereignty of a single person (after all, self-discordant unity can become a plurality) but the single rule produced by equality of nature, harmony of will, identity of action and the convergence towards their source of what springs from unity — none of which is possible in the case of created nature.

“The result is that though there is numerical distinction, there is no division, there is no division of the substance. For this reason, a one eternally changes into a two and stops at three — meaning the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. In a serene, non-temporal, incorporeal way the Father is parent of the ‘offspring’.”

―St. Gregory of Nazianzus, d. 390, The Five Theological Orations

I’ve been plugging away at reading The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church, in which Vladimir Lossky gives a history of Christian understanding of God as He has revealed Himself, in which story St. Gregory’s doctrine plays a major role. It’s a stretch for my untrained mind to follow the thoughts of these venerable fathers of antiquity, who who were not only extraordinary scholars, but holy men: St. Gregory often emphasizes that even to begin to think well about God it is most necessary to have a repentant heart. So I will close with his exhortation to those who might think more highly of their theologizing than they ought (from Oration 20), which I find heartening right now:

“If you trust me, then — and I am no rash theologian! — grasp what you can, and pray to grasp the rest. Love what already abides within you, and let the rest await you in the treasury above. Approach it by the way you live: what is pure can only be acquired through purification… Keep the commandments, make your way forward through observing the precepts: for the practical life is the launching-pad for contemplation. Start with the body, but find joy in working for your soul.

“… the most perfect of all things that exist is the knowledge of God. Let us, then, hold on to what we have and acquire what we can, as long as we live on earth; and let us store our treasure there in heaven, so that we may possess this reward of our labor: the full illumination of the holy Trinity—what it is, its qualities and its greatness, if I may put it this way—shining in Christ himself, our Lord, to whom be glory and power for the ages of ages. Amen.”

St. Gregory Dialogus

In the Eastern Orthodox Church, Gregory the Great (590-604) is usually called Saint Gregory Dialogus, Pope of Rome. The Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts, which he compiled, is a service that we use on weekdays during Lent. You can read about his other writings and inspiring life, including several quotes from the saint, on this site. Here is one of the quotes, fitting for Lent:

“Every day you provide your bodies with good to keep them from failing. In the same way your good works should be the daily nourishment of your hearts. Your bodies are fed with food and your spirits with good works. You aren’t to deny your soul, which is going to live forever, what you grant to your body, which is going to die.”

I only recently began to learn about St. Gregory, after reading this poem by him:

DIVINE CREATOR OF THE LIGHT

Divine creator of the light,
Who, bringing forth the golden ray,
Didst join the morning with the night
And call the blessed union day;

We bow to thee, whose mighty word
Made time begin and heaven move;
Hear thou our tearful prayer, O Lord,

And warm us with the light of love.

Lord, let no crime our souls oppress,
Or keep us from thy law divine;
Oh guard us by thy saving grace

And make our wills accord with thine.

Still may we seek thy heavenly seat,
And strive eternal life to gain;
Oh, keep us in thy mercy sweet,

And cleanse our souls from earthly stain.

-Gregory the Great (c. 540 – 604) Italy

       Translated by Daniel Joseph Donahoe

Shy little bird in the rib cage.

“Three forces carved the landscape of my life. Two of them crushed half the world. The third was very small and weak and, actually, invisible. It was a shy little bird hidden in my rib cage an inch or two above my stomach. Sometimes in the most unexpected moments the bird would wake up, lift its head, and flutter its wings in rapture. Then I too would lift my head because, for that short moment, I would know for certain that love and hope are infinitely more powerful than hate and fury, and that somewhere beyond the line of my horizon there was life indestructible, always triumphant.

“The first force was Adolf Hitler; the second, Iosif Vissarionovich Stalin. They made my life a microcosm in which the history of a small country in the heart of Europe was condensed. The little bird, the third force, kept me alive to tell the story.”

Those are the first two paragraphs of the book Under a Cruel Star: A Life in Prague 1941-1968 by Heda Margolius Kovály, which I read last year. What a survivor that “little bird” helped the author and heroine to be, again and again; her story is gripping and intriguing in every way, and I highly recommend it. She survived Auschwitz, and near the end of the war managed to escape. She ran to her friends in Prague, but none of them dared take her in. The remainder of her story is very suspenseful, and demonstrates the strength of will and hope that continued to uphold her through the suffering and loss under Communist rule.

An interview with Heda was recorded in 1980 for “Voices from the Holocaust,” which you can listen to here: Heda Kovály. The outline of her life is laid out in a transcript and episode notes. They are a good supplement to her book, but I’m very glad I learned her story first from her earlier, very personal telling of it.

Not long after reading Under a Cruel Star, I came across the poem below, which speaks of a place such as Heda’s little bird occupied — this hidden place from which help comes in the form of a song.

LACK OF FAITH

Yes,
even when I don’t believe—
there is a place in me
inaccessible to unbelief,
a patch of wild grace,
a stubborn preserve,
impenetrable,
pain untouched by the sleeping body,
music that builds its nest in silence.”

― Anna Kamieńska, Astonishments: Selected Poems