God goes green

[1]

Francis Gonsalves [1]

What colour is God’s skin? is the opening line of a song we sang in childhood. Perturbed by people’s prejudices about skin colour, a little kid asks his father this question. His dad replies: “It’s black, brown, yellow, it is red, it is white — everyone’s the same in the good Lord’s sight!” True, God is Mother and Father of all peoples;

and so, were we to imagine what colour is God’s skin, surely it’d be all these, and more? Shyam — referring to dark blue or black — is one of the titles and colours associated with Lord Krishna. And, I imagine that God is also green; or, certainly, green are God’s fingers.
In the Bible’s very first chapter, God is pictured as creating plants and trees on the third day (Genesis 1:11-12). Moreover, God is depicted as a gardener who “planted a garden in Eden”. God also gives “every green plant for food” to all the animals. After the Flood, God reminds Noah: “I gave you the green plants (for food)”. Green, therefore, is a sign of God’s favour, Mother Nature’s fecundity and human fulfilment.
Appearing 36 times in the Bible, the colour green is upheld as a vibrant image since it denotes the ideal towards which the natural world tends in its positive condition. It connotes mother nature at her bountiful best — simultaneously signifying security, serenity, sustenance and sustainability. Like a caring shepherdess guiding her sheep to pasture in verdant meadows, God “makes me lie down in green pastures and restores my spirit” (Psalm 23:2).
Biblical poetry — with images that are sometimes scandalously sensual — draws upon the evocative green colour to express God’s intimate love for people. The Song of Songs reads: “My beloved, truly lovely, our couch is green” (1:16). Tribal communities in western India customarily carry the bridal couple in a marriage bower made of bamboo and laced with green leaves; for, what better colour than green can symbolise that budding betrothal bond soon to beget new life?
Much as the Bible celebrates the greenness connected with life, it condemns the greenness associated with sexual promiscuity. Ancient fertility religions practised sacred prostitution among groves of trees. Hence, using the stereotyped expression “under every green tree” about a dozen times, the Bible condemns such practices (1 Kings 14:23; 2 Kings 16:4; 2 Chronicles 28:4; Isaiah 57:5; Jeremiah 2:20; 17:2; Ezekiel 6:13 and so on).
In common parlance, the word “green” has a positive as well as a negative connotation. To be green-eyed is to be jealous, but to have green fingers indicates a love for nature and skill in gardening. In positive vein, the Biblical prophets tell the people to trust in God that they might be like “a tree planted by the water whose leaves stay green, never ceasing to bear fruit” (Jeremiah 17:8). Moreover, since God provides food even in the desert, Prophet Joel calls for fearlessness since “the pastures of the wilderness are green” (2:22).
As a symbol, the colour green harmonises the polarities of prosperity as well as poverty, of life, and death. Thus, the good person is “like a green olive tree in the house of God” (Psalm 52:8) and fruitful in old age “ever green and full of sap” (Psalm 92:14). By contrast, just as green vegetation can dry up suddenly, the evil one is “green before the sun” (Job 8:16), on the verge of being scorched and will “wither like the green herb” (Psalm 37:2).
In the Quran, greenness is suggestive of paradise, wherein the righteous will “recline on green cushions and beautiful carpets” (Surah Al Rahman: 76) and “their garments will be of fine green silk” (Surah Al Insan: 21). During this “Year of Biodiversity”, couldn’t we concertedly go green and plant paradise onto planet earth?
Diwali-eve, my students staged a magnificent multimedia programme, Cosmic Bandhuta. Symbolising Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism and Sikhism, they entwined their bodies into the shape of a huge tree with four colours: saffron, mauve, white and blue. Singing and dancing to rhythmic religious ragas, they creatively conveyed what it means to be delightfully diverse, yet, inseparably one.
Relishing this kaleidoscope of colours, I thought of God as a rainbow embracing all human hues. Aren’t God’s garments saffron, mauve, white and blue? Isn’t God’s skin black, brown, yellow and red? And, certainly, green too?

— Francis Gonsalves is the principal of the Vidyajyoti College of Theology, Delhi. He is involved in interfaith dialogue and peoples’ initiatives
for fostering justice, harmony and peace. He can be contacted at fragons@gmail.com [2]