A Sweet Aroma

We could smell the beautiful fragrance of lavender as soon as we stepped from the car. It drifted on the breeze and grew in strength as we walked from the parking lot toward the rows and rows of pastel-colored plants on the Lavender-Life farm in Caledonia, Michigan. We were told that the plants were past their peak, and that we’d missed the harvest festival by one week. I couldn’t imagine it smelling any more beautiful than it did.

I don’t know about you, but I often don’t notice smells unless they are unusually beautiful—like this farm—or potently horrible—like the pig farm we passed on the way here. Sitting on our back porch at home, we often smell the lovely aroma of evening campfires from the nearby state campground. Or the delicious smell of barbeque when our neighbors fire up their grill. Lately, though, we have noticed the faint stench of something dead in the vicinity of our back deck. We’ve searched and searched for a dead animal, but haven’t found it. The smell of death is always unwelcome, while the fragrance of roses or pine needles or lavender is invigorating.

Have you noticed that a smell can trigger memories? The scent of cigars always reminds me of my grandfather, who loved to smoke them. The smell of a new book brings memories of working in our village library where my mother was the librarian. Newly mown grass reminds me of long, lazy, summer days—even though I had to take a turn at mowing the grass when I was a kid.

Our sense of smell is amazing. I wasn’t one of the unfortunate people who lost their ability to smell when I had Covid, but I sympathize with them. Without smell, food loses its taste. At the lavender farm’s snack bar, we can sample lavender-infused lemonade, lavender scones, and lavender cheesecake. The gift shop offers multiple products, such as lotions, bath oils, and a lavender-scented candle to bring home. I love that one candle can fill our home with perfume—and maybe overpower the scent of death near our back porch. With the gorgeous fragrance of lavender all around us, it’s easy to understand why aromatherapy soothes and calms us when we’re stressed.

Fragrance is also an important part of worship in the Old Testament. After the flood in Genesis, Noah offered a sacrifice to God and “The Lord smelled the pleasing aroma and said in His heart; ‘Never again will I . . . destroy all living creatures” (Genesis 8:21). The pleasing aroma of the sacrifices became a regular part of Israel’s worship in the Tabernacle and later the Temple. Added to it was the specially-formulated incense that was burned daily in the Holy Place, and represented the prayers of the people ascending to heaven.

The same imagery is used of Christ in the New Testament where it says “Christ loved us and gave Himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God” (Eph 5:2). When the Philippian church took up a collection to share with those in need, Paul called their gift “a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God” (Phil 4:18). As members of Christ’s body, this is the picture of us that is shown in 2 Corinthians: “But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of Him.” Just as the fragrant lavender plants fill the air with their aroma simply by growing and flourishing and flowering, we also can spread the knowledge of Christ like a beautiful fragrance wherever we go. “For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved” (2:14-16). My words and actions can poison the air with the scent of death, or perfume it with Christ’s love. I hope the things I say and do spread a fragrance that’s as potent and soothing as a lavender farm.

Pause and inhale a deep breath . . . what do you smell? What memories or images does it bring to mind? Do you know someone whose presence in your life is like sweet perfume?