Raspberries, Receptivity, and the Pursuit of the Human Heart

The morning air was dense with smoke, causing the rays of late July sun to offer unusually weak caresses to the waking marshlands that surrounded me. Despite the poor air quality that obstructed a normally spectacular mountain view, I had a smile on my face and my heart was singing with the robins and sparrows as I made my way to the raspberry bush at the edge of my grandparents’ garden. With an empty ice cream bucket in one hand and a pair of binoculars in the other, I was determined to start my last day of holidays in quiet reflection with only birds and squirrels for company. After taking a moment to seek out the catbird I heard calling in the tree besides my destination and listening to the drum of woodpeckers in the distance, I settled into the task of uncovering the ripest berries hidden within the clustered brambles.

It has taken me a number of years to realize that the mind needs silence and solitude in order to fully engage the heart in conversation. This reflective space is more readily attainable in certain seasons of life, as vocational circumstance or personal ambition often leads us along paths where our minds are continuously distracted or our hearts burdened. I spent much of my adolescent and young adult life choosing to serve the latter aim, sacrificing peace of mind as a result. Like many over-achievers, I adopted a frenzied pace of restless striving in high school that became strongly engrained habit in university. What little distracted contemplation and reflection I did make time for produced weak flames in my heart that were easily snuffed out by the anxiety and exhaustion that my hectic lifestyle and perfectionist outlook provided in ample quantity. The emotional and spiritual toll this took became clear only once I had space to breathe after graduation. I remember commenting to my family that only after settling into a regular routine of full-time work where my evenings and weekends were free did my mind and heart finally have time to process all of the beauty, joy, sorrow, and struggle that had marked my four years of intense studies.

On this morning in the raspberry bushes, I was reminded of what a saving grace this slower pace of life has become for me. Freed of the weight of constant achievement-seeking, and having just returned from a blessed week of spiritual fulfilment reflecting on the virtue of receptivity as a member of the formation team at Captivenia, the dialogue between heart, mind, and soul was alive and active. Insights formulated quickly, intermingling until pieces of a story about the human heart had formed. I knew immediately that this was a story I would want to put into words, and I am gratefully that this blog now gives me a reason to do so.

The story is that of lover and beloved, of the seeker and the one who is sought. It is the story of salvation history, of God seeking out his people so that he might draw their hearts into relationship with him. It is also the story of the desire that ignites the divine spark of love in human relationships, and the story of the of the woundedness that requires in those same relationships much sacrifice, grace, and healing. In this story, the raspberry represents the human heart (which, in biblical language, implies the soul). The one who bravely ventures into the raspberry bush in search of its fruit represents the seeker: the lover, pursuer of the soul.

Aware of the dangers and threats posed to it by the world beyond itself, the raspberry creates natural defenses. It wraps itself in thorns that serve to warn any predators not to get to close. Even well-meaning seekers of the beauty and sweetness it has to offer may find themselves bleeding after a careless approach resulting in contact with this layer of protection. There is risk involved in the reward of union between the seeker and the sought, as the one who seeks must be willing to risk being wounded or rejected in order to find a connection with the one who fears being hurt and has built defenses in order to prevent this.

A self-interested seeker will pick only the berries which grow at the surface of the raspberry bush, as these are the easiest to obtain and require the least amount of risk and effort. But these berries are often lighter in colour and lacking in sweetness, as they have not had the chance to reach full maturity (as those protected in the depths of leaves and the brambles might). In our analogy, these hearts are those who have been spared the painful wounds inflicted by the world, and therefore have not put up dense layers of protection that make them difficult to reach. This sounds like a blessing, and on a purely human level perhaps it is. But these are often those souls who have not allowed themselves to experience the depth and breadth of Love and Beauty, an encounter which all but necessitates an intimate knowledge of risk, pain, suffering and loss.

The ripest raspberries, the ones that bring the greatest delight to the pursuer because of their maturity and sweetness, also tend to hide themselves behind the thickest clusters of leaves, deep within the brambles. Perhaps this is simply another defense mechanism, for the more mature hearts are often the ones who have experienced the most pain and create masks to hide behind as a result. They are wise to the ways of the birds and beasts who seek to snatch them up prematurely, and to the destruction brought upon them by wasps and insects who leave them in a wounded state. They may bury themselves deeply in the hopes that they can avoid the notice of those who have the capacity to do them harm. However, it could also be that such hearts hide themselves out of a desire to make the search more challenging for the pursuer. They know that only the most persistent and determined lovers will take the time to lift every leaf and branch needed to find them, and these patient and loyal seekers are the ones the heart most delights in being found by.

The seeker who enters the raspberry bush with honorable intentions, who seeks to uncover the loveliness of the berries with gentleness and patience, must undoubtedly prepare themselves to be tested in their pursuit. No small amount of effort or sacrifice is needed to search among the thorns, which undoubtedly will leave scratches and cuts along hands and arms as evidence of the seeker’s courageous attempt to find beauty amidst barriers. Perseverance will be put to the test in the face of many distractions and irritations, such as mosquitoes that hungrily seek a patch of bare skin to land on or wasps and spiders that rely on the element of surprise to throw the pursuer off their game. If one were to move this analogy to a spiritual plane, it would be easy to see how these little temptations represent the activity of the devil, who will do anything to distract us from giving and receiving love. However, these distractions also point to the worthiness of the pursuit, for love and intimacy that is won easily burns quickly and brings only shallow, short-term satisfaction.

As I was engaged in the work of finding the sweetest raspberries in the brambles on this warm and smoky July morning, one of the central themes that resonated with me is that love is work. Perhaps most obviously, it requires work on the part of the lover who desires to uncover the beauty of the beloved's heart. The lover must be patient, gentle, willing to sacrifice, and able to persevere in the face of many distractions and temptations. However, work is also required on the part of the beloved, who must find the balance between protecting themselves from destructive forces and opening the doors of the heart to one who desires to contribute to the heart’s healing and restoration. Receptivity is not passive. It requires the active work of seeking and allowing oneself to be sought. This is true when it comes to our relationships with other human beings, but foremost with God. He it is who is the most patient, tender, and compassionate lover and pursuer of the human heart.

"For thus says the Lord God: behold, I, I myself will search for my sheep, and will seek them out.” - Ezekiel 34:11

"In the tender compassion of our God

the dawn from on high shall break upon us,

to shine on those who dwell in darkness

and the shadow of death,

and guide our feet into the way of peace." - Luke 1: 78-79 (Canticle of Zechariah)

"He heals the brokenhearted, and binds up their wounds." - Psalm 147:3

For further reflection on the theme of God's pursuit of the human heart and our receptivity to love, I highly recommend this vulnerable and moving song: