Sparks in the Soil

Faith in the Compost Pile

"Where did you come from? From a putrid drop. Where you are going--to a place of dust, maggots and worms....."

An uplifting piece of scripture, no?  Um...no.  This is a quote from the Pirkei Avot, the classical ethics text of Judaism.  I came across it in the wonderful new Beliefnet blog "Homeshuling," by a Jewish mom who works every day to raise healthy, happy, Jewish kids.

So why did I post the rather revolting quote she referenced this week?  Because she used it as a connection point between the compost pile and the garden, one of the most powerful metaphors of any garden.  The compost pile is rotting death.  The garden is teeming life.  The remnants of the garden become the compost pile.  The compost pile renews the garden. 

What a beautiful cycle, and to think it passes again and again through "a place of dust, maggots, and worms...."

Click here to read the whole Homeshuling post and get a peek at some goodies in Amy's garden.

Have you signed up for my feed yet?  It's easy - just click here!

Interview: Craig Goodwin, Pursuer of 'Plenty'

Craig Goodwin's story has so many layers of inspiration, I hardly know where to begin. 

He's a family man who worked with his wife and two daughters to create a year of completely local food and product consumption (rewarded with a remarkable trip to Thailand at the end!). 

He's a pastor whose church instituted a farmer's market in its parking lot.

He's a community leader who is spearheading a new community garden in a formerly abandoned lot in his hometown of Spokane, Washington.

And in his office, his Master Food Preserver certificate hangs right next to his Master of Divinity diploma.  Yes, this is someone who has a story to tell about the intersection of food and faith, soil and spirituality.  Read on for Craig's inspiring Sparks in the Soil interview, visit his blog YearofPlenty.org, and check out his Pumpkin Patch Community Garden website as well.

Describe your "Year of Plenty."  Why did you name it that, and what did you learn by consuming everything local?

Going into 2008 we were feeling burned out from the crazy consumption rhythms of Christmas and started brainstorming different ways of being consumers. Out of this conversation we decided to try to live for a year consuming everything local, used, homegrown, and homemade. Surprisingly this New Year's resolution stuck and led to a great adventure of living off the beaten path, walking to work, eating seasonally, living without sugar, making out own butter, turning our lawn into a vegetable garden, and taking our whole family to Thailand at the end of the year. (We selected one international location to purchase items from during the year and made a pledge to visit it just as we committed ourselves to making field trips to the local producers of our consumer goods. We took our insurance check from our totaled minivan and used the money to buy our 4 tickets to Thailand. Living with one car was our compromise for not being able to buy local fuel.)

We chose "Year of Plenty" as the title of our blog early on, but as the year progressed it really came to fit our experience. Even though we lived without refined sugar and store bought ice cream and were even driven to eat dandelions before any local greens were available, we had a great sense of gratitude and abundance during the year.

Have you always felt a spiritual component of food and eating?  Where does that connection come from for you?

It's really been over the last five years that I've discovered a personal deep resonance between my spiritual journey and food. We bought our house here in Spokane in August. The previous homeowners, who had grown a vegetable garden, generously allowed us to harvest their hard work after to we moved in. I had never grown a plant from seed in my life, but we enjoyed the harvesting experience so much that we decided to try out the planting side of the equation when the next growing season came around. I discovered a love for gardening and growing food.

As I got into gardening I found it a great way to connect with people in the church as I get to know the people in the Presbyterian congregation I pastor.

The summer before our [Year of Plenty] experiment, our church started a farmers' market in the church parking lot, and I developed friendships with the farmers. For the first time, my food had a friendly face to go along with the taste and nutritional content. That played a key role in our commitment to eat locally and the market served as a wonderful place of connection and community building not only for the church but our neighbors as well.

More personally, I have come to see eating food and gardening and raising chickens as spiritual practices, that help me integrate my life in a world that so often divides up the sacred and secular, material and spiritual. Related to this I wrote recently on the blog:

And so my work with local food, our year long experiment, tearing out the lawn, raising chickens, etc. is, at least in part, an experiment in re-weaving faith and soil, food and spirit, earthy reality and divine truth, backyard and baptismal font.

It also relates to my experience as a pastor. I'm thinking of a friend who no longer attends church because she says she experiences God in nature. I'm thinking of the growing crowds of people who say they are spiritual but not religious. I see this as more a rejection of the false divide of the "holy and the world" than it is a rejection of God. And in some ways the church has itself to blame for this exodus. The church signed a long-term endorsement deal with modernity that looked like the deal of the century for awhile but has taken a tragic turn where people feel like they have to choose between nature and sanctuary, spirituality and a community of faith. As a pastor I am experimenting with what it looks like to lead a church that rejects this false divide and witnesses to a holistic faith. So I do the normal stuff like preach and visit the hospital and write newsletter articles, but I also manage a farmers' market and help distribute food with Second Harvest and work to establish community gardens in West Valley, and write a blog about local food.

And let me be as clear as I can, my interest in food and consumption is not some bait and switch effort to slip Jesus into people's lives, as if local food were some carrot on a stick to lead people along into the holy. The whole point is that I am learning to pay attention to real carrots, preferably local and organic, and see them as in some way holy. If I am seeking to convert people here it is a conversion to a whole life where truth and holiness are wedded to earthiness. At least that's the ongoing conversion I'm seeking in my own life.

As part of our year long experiment I became a Master Food Preserver. In my office, the Master Food Preserver Certificate is right next to my Master of Divinity certificate. They represent essential aspects of what I see God calling me to do as a pastor and person.

Do you believe that people of faith are obligated to eat healthy, sustainable food, and share it with others?  If so, why?

I believe that God has created all things and called all things good. I believe that to imagine a faith that has no interest in the health of the "all things" of God is to get caught up in a modern tragedy, where spirit and earth are divided in an attempt to keep each other safe, and as a result both are hurt.

I agree with Wendell Berry when he says;

"...perhaps the greatest disaster of human history is one that happened to or within religion: that is, the conceptual division between the holy and the world, the excerpting of the Creator from the creation...and this split in public attitudes was inevitably mirrored in the lives of individuals: A man could aspire to heaven with his mind and his heart while destroying the earth, and his fellow men, with his hands."

As a Christian, Colossians 1 is a key verse for me where Jesus is described as the one in whom all things are created and redeemed. I believe that following Jesus as Lord and Savior includes decisions we make about the food we eat and the impact of that food's life cycle on people and the land. Ironically, the key to a down-to-earth faith is a strong theology of the cosmic Christ.

Talk about the Pumpkin Patch Community Garden.  How has your congregation responded to the idea of being a lynchpin of this community garden?

We are actually right in the middle of negotiating the church's role in the garden. We had our first work day last Saturday and of the 25 volunteers, 7 or 8 are members of the church or associated with it. The rest were neighbors and other people interested in helping out. I heard two sentiments related to the church's involvement. One person expressed a desire that more "church people" had attended, while another was quite pleased that it wasn't dominated by "church people." I tend to agree with the latter assessment.

We're living in the tension of the reality that without the church's initiative the garden wouldn't be possible, but without the participation and shared vision from the community, the garden also wouldn't be possible. I think that's a good tension for the church live in.

We often express our church's mission using the words of Jeremiah 29 where he commissions God's exiled people to "seek the welfare of the city I have sent you do, and pray for it, for in its welfare you will find your own welfare." So we are prayerfully seeking the welfare of the city God has called us to, which goes beyond the welfare of our church and church members. We are seeking to be a sign and foretaste of God's justice and peace in the world. Seeing a barren, abused empty lot become a beautiful productive piece of land feels like a small fulfillment of our weekly prayer, "Your kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven."

It's worth mentioning that in that same passage Jeremiah instructs God's people to plant gardens. It's probably exegetical malpractice to connect the commission of Jeremiah to plant gardens with a church helping start a community garden, but I won't call the exegesis police if you won't.

What is the biggest benefit of church-based gardening, in your opinion--the community cohesion, restoring the land, feeding the hungry, or....?

I love the way it gets me as a pastor and our church folks out interacting with our community and neighbors. As a pastor I see the primary challenge, at least for our church, is not getting people in the church's doors, but getting the congregation out the doors into the neighborhood in meaningful and faith-filled ways.

You said that you see a divide in our culture between the material and the spiritual, and that divide is hurting the church.  Do you believe gardening might be a way to bridge the divide?

I have found that to be true in my personal life and I think the same could be said for many churches in North America. The challenge is that most churches don't have the resources within the church body to do it. Like I said above, I think it's good for churches to recognize that God is calling us to do things that require collaboration and partnership with out neighbors. We don't impose vision on the neighborhoods that surround our churches, rather we are called to share vision.

I think of the disciples who fanned out with Jesus' instructions to enter towns, live, eat, and work among the people AND proclaim the kingdom of God at hand. Because the church often doesn't truly enter the neighborhood and "eat and work" alongside, when we do proclaim the kingdom of God at hand, our neighbors often respond with indifference. They say, "Who are you to proclaim anything to me? I don't even know you. I don't share anything with you so why should I trust your words or proclamation."

For us the Farmers' Market, our monthly food distributions, and now hopefully the community garden are ways for us to work alongside and "eat" with our neighbors.

Have you had an experience where you've inspired someone to change their eating/buying habits?  If so, please describe it and share what it meant to you and the other person.

I have had many people along the way say that our journey has led them to eat local, try vegetable gardening, or get some chickens. I love that we've been an encouragement to people but we've been careful not to pretend that we're experts or that we should presume others follow our path. One of the families that we've mentored into gardening and growing food entered veggies in the County fair last year and their kids won the giant pumpkin contest. We've been trying to do that for 4 years now. The student is now the master. :)

Click here for more Sparks in the Soil interviews!  And nominate your own "Growers in the Spirit" for a future feature!

Have you signed up for my feed yet?  It's easy - just click here!

Walk with Me

I just shared my new practice of circumambulating (taking a meditative, mindful walk around) my house each day as a way of enjoying the big picture of my garden's first year of growth.  Now, a photo journey through what today's walk had to say:

I always start with the Vanilla Strawberry hydrangea that we planted by the garage.  It's greened in nicely.  Now all we need are some flowers!

Next stop, after breezing by my shady hosta bed along the side of the house, is Raised Bed #1, which is a particular point of pride because every single thing in it (excepting that sage plant I've perched in the center, waiting for after the radish harvest) was grown in that soil, from seed.  Peas, parsnips, onions, spinach, Swiss chard, nasturtiums, parsley, beets, lettuce, or radishes, anyone?

 

Next up, Raised Bed #2, our "summer bed" in which we just planted 6 kinds of tomatoes (including one called Mr. Stripey!), zucchini, acorn squash, eggplants, and cucumbers.  Rows of basil seeds will be sown between the tomato plants.

Next, you guessed it, is Raised Bed #3, in which our "red, white, and blue" potatoes are happily hilled and greening beautifully with some intermittent onions tucked in between, and a strawberry patch is well under way.

 

Then I cross the sunny green grass and inspect my potted herbs.  I sweep my hand up the long stem of my mint plant so I can smell that bracing perfume.

Then I peer through my rhododendron at the thyme seeds that have popped into a lovely, vibrant plant just waiting to season chicken and fish and veggies on the grill.

Next stop, lily patch, where my mystery bulb (the globetrotter allium) is now glowing in the sun after its purple petals have dropped off.  Six lovely lilies have (so far) survived the chipmunk who seems to just luuuve that spot.

A few steps away is the bed in which we transplanted our cloned "New Dawn" roses and relocated 2 bleeding hearts from the front of the house.  

 

What's that on one of our (still tiny, but encouragingly green) roses?  Hello, little budling!

 

Round the bend I now go, toward our dwarf fruit tree orchard!  On our Liberty apple tree, we even have some mysterious orbs that might, heaven help me, become fruit!

 

Here's the whole Liberty tree, and the Crimson Crisp apple right next door.

Our sour cherry, which I had worried was being irreparably eaten by a mystery bug, is putting out some promising new growth!

And the white peach tree is sporting a fuzzy orb that I can only imagine is the beginning of a peach!  Next decision: do I pluck off the young fruits in the first year, like I'm doing with my strawberry plants, to give the roots a better head start?

After a pause to enjoy the relaxing, inviting purpleness of our petunia-flanked front door...

...it's a deep breath at the radiant rhododendron by the side door, and then back inside the house--refreshed, inspired, and amazed as always that such bounty can all be seen in a 10-minute circle around a house on 0.13 acres of land!

Have you signed up for my feed yet?  It's easy - just click here!

Take It All in: Circumambulate Your Garden

We gardeners are generally a contemplative bunch--patient enough to experiment with different groupings of plants, different locations, different varieties.  We're prepared for failure and pretty well versed in how to learn from it.  We can get blissfully lost in yanking weeds or sowing seeds, in thinning seedlings or dividing plants. 

But sometimes, I find that I'm getting too "micro" in my garden--concentrating so fully on the placement of my sage plant that I forget to see how green and lush the whole bed is getting.  God is in the details, to be sure, and there's beauty and meaning in the mindful, "small" time I spend in my garden.  But the real "wow" factor in my garden is the way it is growing and changing even from one day to the next.  That's something I don't want to miss.

So that's why I've instituted a new practice--at least once a day, I circumambulate (meditatively walk around) my property, taking in the big, beautiful picture of all the things that are growing here, feel gratitude for the part I've played in helping them grow, and notice the changes--both good and bad--that these living things are undergoing just outside my door.

I walk clockwise around the house, which became a happy coincidence when I remembered that in Buddhism, sacred sites are circumambulated in a clockwise direction--a nod to the sun's course across the sky.  Traditional Buddhist sites are circumambulated 3 times, but I get enough funny looks from my neighbors already....

If you want to stick to tradition, keep the object of "veneration" (or meditation) to your right.  Walk with slow intention, letting your eyes softly scan the object/bed/plant/bloom/vegetable and just breathing it in.  Let yourself smile if you see something exciting.  Look closer if you see something worrisome.  And then, when you do it again tomorrow, see what has changed.

Most importantly, look--don't do.  Don't yank weeds, don't dig, don't deadhead, don't take any action more complicated than gently touching a leaf or peeking under a blossom.  There's plenty of time for work later--the purpose of circumambulating is to take in your garden just as it is. 

Stay tuned for my next post in which I share the sites I saw on today's circuit. 

Have you signed up for my feed yet?  It's easy - just click here!

What's Eating My Fruit Trees?

Our dwarf fruit tree orchard is cooking along, I'm happy to say, and now that we've settled the trees into their new homes and tucked them in with a chunky mulch blanket, they seem to be putting down roots (final to-do setup item: install stakes next to each tree).

As I observed a couple of weeks ago, it has been amazing to watch these trees coming to life and putting out their very first leaves.

Today, though, something is eating away at that feeling.  Literally.  

Our Liberty apple is the glorious exception.  Just look at all of those flowers and un-nibbled leaves!  Even a friendly neighborhood pollinator stopping by for a visit!

 

But its sister (brother?) tree, the Crimson Crisp apple, is not so lucky.  It's soft, fuzzy leaves are the largest and most robust of the four trees, but here and there someone's been snacking:

 

Our Montmorency sour cherry, poor soul, is the worst hit, making me think that it's the least "pest resistant" of the bunch.  We actually pulled off and squished some green worm-y things that I'm thinking might be the problem, but the tiny brown dots on the eaten areas make me worried that someone's been laying eggs.

 

Our white peach, the Raritan Rose, is faring decently so far, a lovely pink-and-green site for sore eyes.

So here's my question - what is eating my fruit trees, and what can I -- organically -- do about it?  Please help!

Have you signed up for my feed yet?  It's easy - just click here!

Uh-Oh: Adorable Bunny Alert!

This morning, sitting quietly and calmly in my backyard, was a pair of pleasantly plump bun-buns.  So....time to put up that chicken wire fence around the veg garden beds!  One of them bolted when I opened the door, but the other seemed to be all, "Whatever...I'm too full to move."

Have you signed up for my feed yet?  It's easy - just click here!

The Miracle of Seeds

Just a quick update to report that the following seeds are officially above ground in our first garden bed, a mere 3 weeks after sowing:

Onions

Peas

Spinach

Mixed Lettuces

Radishes

Beets

Rainbow Chard

These are still lagging, but I'm not giving up until the weather gets a little warmer:

Parsnips (one or two are starting to poke through....maybe)

Parsley

Nasturtiums (I fear the birds might have gotten these)

Growing from seed really is a miracle.  You peer hopefully into the future, when you see a full, teeming garden properly spaced and tended.  You sow the seeds, burying them beyond your gaze.  Then you wait.  And wait.  And wait.  Then you give up hope that any of them will germinate.  And almost at that exact moment, you're rewarded with that amazing first glimpse of your hearty friends, reaching toward the sun from their warm soil beds.  I say again:  a miracle.

One Tall Mystery Bulb!

The mystery bulb is starting to open, to reveal itself to be the suspected Allium Globemaster, in all its purple glory.  The other day, I snapped a shot of it just pre-opening.  This is the tallest bulb flower I've ever seen!  And behold, a half dozen or so of the lilies I planted with it are also coming up (the squirrels got a few, phooey on them).

Have you signed up for my feed yet?  It's easy - just click here!

Paging Mr. Maplethorpe!

Behold, the sensual beauty of a young zucchini seedling...and a quote from Robert Maplethorpe, the famous photographer of "naughty" orchids: "When I work, and in my art, I hold hands with God."

 

Have you signed up for my feed yet?  It's easy - just click here!

Fruit Trees' Almost-Leaves

While we could have bought 4-5 year-old, already-fruiting fruit trees for our side-yard dwarf apple/peach/cherry orchard, there are many reasons we're glad we didn't.  Reasons like, we get to shape the trees from the their first year.  We get to treat them organically and not have to detox them from four years of synthetic sprays.  And--best of all--we get to witness the moment when these slender trees make their very first moves toward putting out leaves, branches, buds, and blossoms. 

There will be a time when these trees, God willing, will be heavy with sturdy branches, thick-trunked, and laden with luscious fruit.  But today, they're just starting--and I get to watch.

Folks, this, to me, looks an awfully lot like a miracle.

Have you signed up for my feed yet?  It's easy - just click here!