Letter from the Editor
The seasons have turned once more. Winter is over, spring has arrived. Indeed, as T.S. Eliot reminds us in Little Gidding, the last of his Four Quartets, “To make an end is to make a beginning.” Similarly, to plant a seed is to make a beginning. Planting requires belief in the future, a hope for things to come. When we plant, we shape future landscapes, future stories, future generations. For proof, we have but to look to the second chapter of Genesis: “And the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east; and there He put the man whom He had formed” (Genesis 2:8). Planting is no new concept—it’s been around since the beginning.
But what does planting teach us about God and the spiritual life? With the planting theme on my mind today, I immediately took note of the following verse from morning prayer: “Planted in the house of the LORD, [the just] shall flourish in the courts of our God” (Psalm 92:13). Not only must we plant food to prepare for the future; we ourselves must be firmly rooted if we are to experience the joys of Heaven.
I’m always excited to see how our writers interpret each issue’s theme, especially when they uncover profound insights from what appears to be a mundane aspect of life. This issue’s writers take us across a myriad of topics, from Chesterton to compost, Jane Austen novels to slow cookers. Yet, throughout it all, they remind us to live full lives of penance, virtue, contemplation, and Easter joy.
Even if you aren’t currently plowing a field or tending a garden, the liturgical year makes this time of year especially suited to reflect on planting. After we prepare the soil, plant our seeds, and give them some fresh water, all we can do is wait. Growing plants requires patience, perseverance, and dedication, all of which are uniquely Lenten virtues. As these forty days of Lent come to a close in the next few weeks, our season of penance and preparation is capped off by the silent waiting of Holy Saturday.
After the abundance and tenderness of Holy Thursday and the intense drama of Good Friday, there is nothing quite like the Holy Saturday stillness. But as Regina Cousino reminds us, “Life can’t stand still—not even in “the waiting.” Even amidst the stillness of Holy Saturday, God is at work.
We were truly blown away by the number of submissions we received for this issue—the highest number ever. On behalf of the rest of the team, I’d like to express my gratitude to all of our contributors, whether published or not. It continues to fill me with awe that so many people trust us with their gifts. What a blessing and delight it’s been to read and review so many joyous spring pieces in the long dark winter months. I’ve found them to be a source of inspiration and amusement and sincerely hope that you will as well. Maybe you’ll discover the joy of an unexpected blossom or finally build your first raised bed. But if this season of life doesn’t allow for a garden plot, I hope you’ll find the time to get outside and revel in the wonders of springtime in other ways.
Before I conclude, I’d like to note a special word of thanks to Agnese Janaro, Julie Wells, and Mary Grace Sauer, who so generously brought our vision to life with their wonderful artwork at the last minute as we finalized the layout for this issue. The illustrations they provided truly elevate the pages of Trivium and help us in our mission to bring truth and beauty into the world. Please join me in thanking them for sharing their talent with us.
In closing, let us return again to T.S. Eliot’s Little Gidding:
…the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
In the beginning, God planted a garden for us. This spring, as we prepare for Easter rejoicing, we look ahead to the end of our journey, the end of our exploring. One day, God willing, we shall return again to The Garden, our first home, and then we shall see it truly for the first time.
– Rachel Gerring, Executive Editor
