home | contact
Flowers on the Easter altar, 2007

Message from Elizabeth Lerohl

Behold the Tulip

By Elizabeth Lerohl

Mary Mapes Dodge’s classic of children’s literature, Hans Brinker or The Silver Skates, takes place in Holland. The story mixes the excitement of kids ice-skate racing over frozen canals and the domestic life of a Dutch family that has fallen on hard times. The two children of the family are expert ice-skaters, and skate along telling tales of Dutch history, life, and lore.

One day, the kids tell a visiting English boy about the tulip’s introduction into Europe and America. Tulips were introduced into the Western world via Turkey in 1560 by traders in Amsterdam. After soggy and cold Dutch winters, the beauty and vibrant colors of the tulips bewitched Amsterdam’s upper class and made the tulip an overnight sensation. Speculators bought and sold tulips for thousands of dollars. Homes were mortgaged to buy more tulip bulbs. Hundreds of people found themselves in debtors prisons after spending their life savings on tulips — flowers that could cost their weight in gold.

Eventually, the inflated prices of tulip bulbs came to an end. Parliament even nullified all tulip debt to help set the economy right after years of the tulip frenzy. As a 10-year-old reading Hans Brinker, I was amazed by Dutch tulip mania. I didn’t understand the fervor over the flowers that seemed to just come up every spring.

A week ago, I had insight into tulip mania for the first time. Driving on Locust Street on a cold and grey morning, I saw little green bits of tulip pushing through soggy blankets of autumn leaves. The day was cold and damp. I imagine that most people wanted to be on a beach thousands of miles south of Davenport. Even in the gloom, the little green arms of the tulips waved in the wind, promising warmer weather and beautiful displays of color ahead. The green shoots defied the cold hard world, and made it clear that they were here to stay. For the first time, I beheld the glory of the tulip — the tulip survives against the cold, the occasional snowflake, and nibbling rabbits.

In the last days of fall, a tulip bulb is thrown into the ground. It does not look, feel, or smell alive. Six months later, the tulip displays a whole lot of faith. It comes to life in a grey world where its green leaves don’t seem to belong. It pokes its head through the barely warm earth, and decides that spring is coming. Like the cross of Good Friday, the tulip promises that there is new life ahead.

We need to hear the promise of new life for us, especially on days when our spirits are anemic and the world looks grey. Every day there are different challenges that threaten our thriving in the world — simple distractions, weighty issues, and turns in the weather. We need to hear the Easter promise of new life to bring us back our center — to re-root us in Jesus’ promises of forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and hope for the world to come. These promises give us the courage to be brave in our faith and live out Christ’s resurrection in our lives, when we’re going through cold or dark places, when storms swirl around us, and when even the sweetest of things diverts us from living how we want to live. Behold the tulip. Its faithfulness is a model for us as we seek to follow the resurrected Christ.

Elizabeth Lerohl, pastoral intern,

  ::