From The Goldfields
God-Talk: Generosity
The Revd Dr Elizabeth J Smith AM, Mission Priest, Parish of The Goldfields
The gold of the wattles in the cooler months is joyfully predictable. Their bright bling against the blue Goldfields sky is magnificent. There are Acacias in other parts of the world, but the wattle is Australia’s national flower, and I love it.
But I’ve also begun to notice the other colours of the wattles. They are grey-green in the background. Then, after the flowers are gone, they bear translucent, light-green seed pods, as abundant as the gold had been a few weeks earlier.
The pods ripen slowly. From bright bronze, they mellow to dusty brown. They drop to the ground, where they lie in generous heaps, cracking open in the warmth, releasing the glossy, black seeds. Each seed has an aril: a colourful, fleshy curl attached to it. The aril is full of nutrition coveted by a bird or an ant; so the ant or bird will carry the seed away, feast on the aril, and leave the tougher seed to rest somewhere in the soil. It will wait there until it is cracked by force or fire, or softened by water, and then it may germinate, sprouting feathery seed-leaves, which will be the only two true leaves most wattles will have in their lifetime. The later ‘leaves’ will actually be the phyllodes, flattened stems in various shapes and spikinesses, protecting the plant from dehydration and sunburn.
Whether the seeds are harvested by hungry ants, birds or humans, the wattle’s prodigal production is a fine show of generosity from a tree or bush that doesn’t itself have a long life. Wattles, too, are often the host of choice for mistletoe, that notorious, water-stealing parasite. And the spikier Acacias make a great trellis for a scrambler like the karlkurla vine, whose tasty leaves and fruits need prickly protection from marauding birds and kangaroos.
Abundance and generosity, sacrifice and shelter: these qualities of the wattle trees evoke my experience of Jesus Christ. In desert, city or garden, he feeds and supports me; he shelters and sustains my spirit. The colourful stories of his life and his teachings are endlessly beautiful, varied, and textured, both sharp and comforting.
There are more than 1200 species of Acacia native to Australia, and most of us can recognise them at a glance, at least when they are flowering. So it is with Jesus Christ: in a resurrection moment, or when the Holy Spirit is having a glorious day, his beauty shines out for all to see. It may take a little more wisdom for me to recognise him when life feels beset with prickles. Yet, by his cross, he is still with me even then, offering spiritual, sacramental sustenance, so generously that I cannot help but notice that there is more than I could possibly need, and plenty, plenty for everyone else who is hungry, or weary, or vulnerable.
In your bright resurrection gold, and in the sombre shades of your suffering, Lord Jesus Christ, I will praise and thank you for your boundless generosity.