Gilbert Temple
By Jenny Komenda
For the Lord shall comfort Zion: he will make her wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the Lord; joy and gladness shall be found in her, thanksgiving, and the voice of melody.
Isaiah 51:3
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The Gilbert Arizona Temple seems to rise like an oasis out of the desert. In the dedicatory prayer for the temple, President Thomas S. Monson prayed that it would be “be a sanctuary of serenity, a refuge from the storms of life and the noise of the world” and “a house of quiet contemplation concerning the eternal nature of life and of Thy divine plan for us.” It is fitting, then, that one of the most notable features of the Gilbert Temple is its use of the agave plant as a key design motif. The agave, a humble plant native to Arizona, can be found in the temple’s stained-glass windows, stonework, carpets, carvings, light fixtures, and door hardware, and its color palette further incorporates soft blues, greens, golds and creams that are suggestive of the plant.
In many ways, the agave plant is an especially good symbol for a temple in the desert. The agave plant has been revered by Mesoamerican cultures for centuries. The Aztecs, Mayans, and other indigenous groups considered it a gift from the gods, and used it to produce food, drink, clothing, shelter, and writing materials. The agave is also astonishingly resilient, prospering in conditions that seem inhospitable. It thrives where little else can. In preparing to send saints to settle Arizona, President George Q. Cannon said,“Good countries are not for us. If there be deserts in Arizona, thank God for the deserts.” The Lord makes holy things grow in difficult places.
One of the most beautiful features of the agave is something you notice only up close: bud imprinting. For two or three years, each tender leaf grows tightly pressed against the ones before it. When it finally unfurls, the leaf carries permanent impressions of these older leaves, leaving it with a uniquely intricate pattern left by its older “ancestors.” The agave’s use in the Gilbert Temple can remind us that families are linked across generations. We carry the imprint of those who came before us. Their faith shapes us; and our choices shape those who follow.
Though often mistaken for a cactus, the agave belongs instead to the lily family, a sweet reminder of the Savior’s invitation to “consider the lilies”—to see in them God’s careful, sustaining love. And like a lily, the agave’s life cycle teaches of sacrifice and resurrection. The agave is also known as the century plant because early settlers mistakenly believed the plant lived for hundreds of years. Its long association with immortality and eternal life has led to it frequently appearing in cemeteries and on tombstones. Yet the agave blooms only once in its long life. After decades of storing strength, it sends up a single, towering stalk reaching 20-30 feet in height that is completely adorned in flowers—an offering that feeds birds, bees and butterflies for a few weeks. In giving everything, it fulfills its purpose. The plant then dies, leaving behind small replacement plants (in Spanish, these new plants are called hijos or ‘children’), ensuring that generations of agave persist in that single spot. “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (John 12:24).
The humble agave is a reminder that God’s work is patient, resilient, generational, and full of quiet miracles. This is what we can find in the Lord’s House, if we seek it. As President Monson noted in the Gilbert Temple dedicatory prayer, “We desire righteousness for ourselves and our children and our children's children.”
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