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| Biblical Garden (Photo credit: paulafunnell) |
Rabbi Birnholz's Biblical Plantings Have Been Disappointing; Faith, Toil and Perseverance Come a Cropper
VERO BEACH, Fla.—Rabbi Michael Birnholz wanted a little bit of Eden for his synagogue here, so he set out to bring forth fruit upon his land, planting a collection of herbs, fruit trees and flowers mentioned in the Bible.
Heaven hasn't always smiled on the rabbi's efforts. (CLICK BELOW TO READ MORE)
This lush, sun-drenched region, known as the Treasure Coast, is renowned for its citrus groves and semitropical vegetation. But Rabbi Birnholz's pomegranates, date palms, fig, olive and apple trees—they aren't all doing so well.
"I think that it is dead," he said, surveying a shriveled pomegranate tree in the garden behind Temple Beth Shalom, a lively reform congregation. "Agriculture is not easy.""Biblical gardens" are sprouting outside churches and synagogues around the country. Collections of flora native to the Middle East were once largely the domain of professional botanical gardens or institutions such as the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, in New York, whose renowned biblical garden has a $20,000 annual maintenance budget and expert gardeners and volunteers. Now, they are cropping up in synagogue and church yards from Missouri to Vermont.
The Internet makes buying exotic "biblical" seeds a cinch. And at a time when congregations of all faiths and denominations struggle to attract members, a biblical garden can be a draw—turning obscure biblical references into living, blooming realities.
Groups such as the Biblical Botanical Gardens Society offer counsel and support. A botany professor at Old Dominion University, in Norfolk, Va., recently published an exhaustive Dictionary of Bible Plants, which retails for $150. In Fair Haven, Vt., Pastor Marsh Hudson-Knapp, of the First Congregational Church, has been doing a brisk business selling a more modest $14 guide to growing your own biblical garden. His book cites 126 different plants and herbs that can—in theory at least—be grown in this country.
But faith, toil, and perseverance can't always overcome the challenges presented by the differences between the climate and soil of the Middle East and various regions of America. That is why Mr. Hudson-Knapp regularly counsels would-be biblical gardeners to limit their ambitions. He himself has experienced countless setbacks—plants dying mysteriously, or simply failing to thrive.
"I haven't eaten one fig out of my fig tree in 20 years," he confides. Jesus in the New Testament is said to have been so irritated upon encountering a fig tree that bore no fruit that he declared: "May you never bear fruit again." The tree withered.
The Rev. Steven Wilson, who planted a biblical garden in his church in Carthage, Mo., has had his own brushes with adversity. While his church, Grace Episcopal, escaped the devastating tornado that hit 12 miles away last May, it wasn't as fortunate in fending off pests. A couple of years ago, members of his congregation traveled to Israel and collected seeds—including the Galilee Hollyhock, a flower mentioned in the Book of Job.
They carefully grew five saplings. "But then the Japanese beetles came," he says, and destroyed them. A piece of the garden devoted to Middle Eastern vegetables became a tasty treat for a groundhog.
"He ate all of them—he was looking very happy with himself," Mr. Wilson says. The congregation debated what to do about the groundhog; some wanted to trap him and move him far away. Finally, they decided to let him stay, but built a fence around the plants.
Back in Vero Beach, Rabbi Birnholz, 37, has persevered. Beth Shalom sits on five acres of land, but the rabbi has no biblical garden budget. He works on the garden himself, with Boy Scouts and others helping out. A local artist produced handsome signage for the plantings, citing chapter and verse of biblical references—Exodus 39:23-26 for the pomegranate or the Book of Ruth 2:23 for barley.
These days, the rabbi rattles off calamities that have struck his garden, from a flood to drought to pestilence. Last fall, it was so rainy and windy that one of the olive trees fell over. A willow tree was attacked by ants. A fig tree's fruit was devoured by "critters." A sprinkler system broke down during a dry spell.
"There are bugs, there is the weather—it definitely has the feeling of Job with all of these disasters," the rabbi lamented.
He still is determined to make olive oil.
A couple of years ago, the temple planted four olive trees, from which the rabbi harvested altogether just one olive.To make oil in time for Hanukkah, the Jewish festival of lights, the rabbi obtained 140 pounds of olives from a member of the synagogue. A boy scout helped build an olive press. Members set about using it, hoping to get oil. Out came an awful lot of green gook along with oil.
A member volunteered a nonbiblical centrifuge, which separated the oil from the gunk. "We cheated a little," the rabbi says.
There have been a couple of breakthroughs along with the heartbreak. Rabbi Birnholz still remembers how excited he felt when a grape vine produced six grapes. A tree produced one citron for the Succoth holiday.
The rabbi was sure the pomegranate tree would yield fruit. It did—one inedible pomegranate the size of a tangerine.
The "pygmy date palm" produced a date about as big as a bean.
The fig tree produced fruit but it was eaten by animals, squirrels probably.
"I am glad he is not supporting a food kitchen," remarks Lytton John Musselman, a botany professor at Old Dominion and author of the plant dictionary. One problem, says the professor: Vero's soil and climate aren't like the Holy Land's. "You can't grow plants native to the semiarid Middle East in Florida."
But the rabbi is undaunted. He wants the congregation to make its own matzo—unleavened bread—for Passover in April. That means planting what he refers to as "biblical wheat" over the coming weeks. A temple in South Portland, Maine, grew enough wheat to bake two loaves of challah.
Rabbi Birnholz bought the wheat seeds through a website, where various sites sell seeds to plant a biblical garden. He says he'll be content to produce a single piece of matzo.
Scaling down ambition is key, says Vermont's Mr. Hudson-Knapp. "Growing a biblical garden is like life," he says. "When we get fixated on having it all turn out beautifully, it makes for a lot of frustration."
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