“What are you doing!” I was startled by the harsh voice from my next door neighbor. I stopped my work digging up small bushes in the corner of my backyard and looked up to see her approaching the chain-link fence which divided our properties. Ordinarily, I am not fond of fences between neighbors, but for the moment, I was thankful there was something to stop her from coming into my yard and clubbing me with anything she could get her hands on. She was visibly and audibly upset. Though she was elderly, I was still intimidated because she made me feel as though I was committing a crime.
“I tore down the shed, and these bushes don’t belong here anymore,” I replied in a calm but agitated voice. We were new to Danville having recently moved into this house from another part of the country. For some reason, the former owners installed a large workshop in the backyard within spitting distance of a small metal shed which was rusted and collapsing by the time we acquired the property. Taking the shed down was one of my higher priorities for this house, mostly because it was an eyesore. I later received compliments from other neighbors who were thankful to see it go. For now, though, surrounding the perimeter of the shed were small bushes planted about two feet apart. In my mind, they had to go. It was the price of progress.
“What are you going to do with them?” My neighbor asked as if she were some sort of a tree hugging activist. “I can’t leave them here,” I explained. “Do you want them?” I thought this question would diffuse the situation. “No,” she said, “but why don’t you move them somewhere else?”
“I already have enough,” I said as I pointed to various locations around my yard. In the center of the backyard, there was a tall cluster of the same bush that had to be at least 15 feet in diameter. The same bush lined the side of the house closest to my neighbor. The bushes continued around the length of the front of the house, and they also lined the length of the far property line. Who in their right mind would plant all these bushes? I certainly had no use for any more.
“Do you know what they are?” My neighbor quizzed me as if I was on the Jeopardy game show. I hadn’t the faintest idea, so I was honest. “No,” I said. “These are azaleas,” came the reply, “and I hate to see them dug up.” No kidding, I thought to myself. If the fence wasn’t there, I’m sure she would have attempted to wrestle the shovel from my hand and whack me with it.
With that, the conversation ended, and she went back about her business. I finished digging up the bushes and, for lack of better place for them, threw them in a pile for collection by the street.
This conversation bothered me for quite awhile. What would cause her to react so vehemently? It is fairly common, if not routine, for significant landscape work to be done when a house is sold, so why would she become so invested in my bushes?
Months later, my senior pastor invited me to attend a series of evangelism seminars held at the grounds of the Virginia Conference. One of the seminars was on bringing the gospel to Southside Virginia. Still new to the area and wanting to make the most of my time in Danville, I decided to attend this seminar. I was disappointed, however, because the seminar was put on by a group from a large church in distant lands who brought a message essentially saying that if churches in Southside adopted this church’s programs, Southside churches would also morph into mega churches.
Convinced that this would not work in Southside, I went back to my room and prayed. I was restless and could not understand why. After an hour or so, I sought out a Wendy’s and contemplated my thoughts over a frosty. My thoughts started to become more clear. I went back to my room and prayed more. As my prayers became more intense and the night wore on, I was led to open my Bible. Suddenly, the flood gates opened, and I started scribbling notes as quickly as I could.
The next day, I was headed back to our former state of residence to pickup my wife and young son who had gone back for a visit. While there, I asked my brother-in-law who is from eastern North Carolina what he knew about the azalea. “They only grow in acidic soil,” he explained. “Can you grow them here?” Inquiring minds wanted to know. “Only if I prepared the soil ahead of time,” was his reply. “Why do azaleas grow so well in the Piedmont, then,” I asked. “It’s naturally acidic,” he said, “nothing is needed to be done to the soil.”
This was the aha! moment I was after. Upon my return to Danville, I scoured horticultural books in the public library. Who would have thought that the gospel message can be found here? However, the more I read the more I understood that night in my room on the grounds of the Virginia Conference, and I also understood my neighbor’s reaction to my digging up the defenseless azaleas in my yard.
Azaleas are the sacred cow of the Piedmont.
One of my favorite classes in seminary was Contextual Theology. In this class, we learned how to study a culture and then apply the Scriptures in a meaningful way using elements from the culture. The azalea is something in which the folks of the Piedmont can believe. Year after year they grow and flower. The azalea can be counted on almost like clock-work. In Matthew 6:25-31, Jesus gives us this promise:
For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life? And why are you worried about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin, yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more clothe you? You of little faith! Do not worry then, saying, What will we eat? or What will we drink? or What will we wear for clothing?
The soil in the Piedmont does not change from year to year. The soil is not depleted of its acid one year causing the azalea to die and return the next causing the azalea to flourish again. As sure as the azalea will return and flower year after year, we can also be sure that Jesus will provide year after year. The soil in the Piedmont has been acidic for as long as anyone can remember. Jesus is eternal, and his nature and character are unchanging. Just as there is an expectation year after year that the azalea will return, we can safely trust in Jesus again and again.
The azalea will flower even if left alone, but its true beauty comes with pruning and care. Weeds and other plants can cause problems for the azalea if the intruding plants are allowed to grow uncontrolled. We are pruned by Jesus, and He weeds out the intruding growth. This pruning often occurs through the difficult circumstances we endure in life. In times of pain and struggle, we are often being pointed to Christ and refined for His glory and our best. Pruning represents a short time of work and would seem to destroy the beauty just enjoyed in the spring, but the hard times, trials and suffering we face are not in vain. Understanding that our beauty is created and maintained through pruning and being able to see our beauty as we emerge from a season of difficulty give meaning to our struggle, just as there is meaning and purpose to pruning the azalea. Jesus also weeds out the intruders. Branches that have died or are no longer capable of flowering are cut to make room for new growth. Weeds and other choking plants must be taken out. Difficult issues in our lives must be addressed as quickly as possible to avoid damage to the structural integrity of our spiritual lives. In John 15:1-11, Jesus said:
I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit. You are already clean because of the word which I have spoken to you. Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in Me. I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in Me, he is thrown away as a branch and dries up; and they gather them, and cast them into the fire and they are burned. If you abide in Me, and My words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit, and so prove to be My disciples. Just as the Father has loved Me, I have also loved you; abide in My love. If you keep My commandments, you will abide in My love; just as I have kept My Father’s commandments and abide in His love. These things I have spoken to you so that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be made full. (See also Isaiah 1:16-20)
The master gardener living in Southside will most certainly tend the azalea. This will involve pruning at the right time. I learned the hard way that pruning is best done shortly after the azalea stops flowering because by the middle of fall new buds are already emerging. I pruned my azaleas in the middle of winter, and they did not flower well the following spring. I only made that mistake once. I also took care to keep intruding plants from choking out the azalea. Jesus prunes us at times so His joy will reside in us and that our joy may be made full. He knows when and how to prune us, so that our best will shine through. He does this not so much that we live up to our full potential but more so to bring glory to Himself, which is what attracts the world to Him. Your neighbors know how well you care for your azaleas because they can see the beauty of the flowers in the high season. When our joy is full and we embody His joy, everyone around us will know who Jesus is.
A plant as simple as the azalea is important to Jesus. The azalea matters to Him, and just as He will look after its growth and flowering from year to year, He will also look after us. He is the help and shield of the azalea, and He will also be our help and shield, as promised in Psalm 119:9-15:
O Israel, trust in the LORD; He is their help and their shield. O house of Aaron, trust in the LORD; He is their help and their shield. You who fear the LORD, trust in the LORD; He is their help and their shield. The LORD has been mindful of us; He will bless us; He will bless the house of Israel; He will bless the house of Aaron. He will bless those who fear the LORD, The small together with the great. May the LORD give you increase, You and your children. May you be blessed of the LORD, Maker of heaven and earth.
The azalea is increased year after year as it matures, and it is a blessing in your yard. It is a natural beauty of the Piedmont to be celebrated and enjoyed. The Lord gives us increase and makes us a blessing. When we offer our best to Him and allow Him to transform us and control us, we become a blessing to others around us. We also increase, not necessarily in material possessions, but most certainly in spiritual strength.
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