Yielding Beautiful Treasures
Table Talk
Setting the Table
Take a moment to center down where you are for a time of reflection and prayer. Take a deep breath. Check in with yourself. Allow yourself this moment to sit away from the stresses that surround you, and simply be present.
Imagine all the folks in our world as tiny plants growing from the soil of our communities... do we have what we need to thrive?
Blessing the Dust
For Ash Wednesday
by Jan Richardson
...
So let us be marked
not for sorrow.
And let us be marked
not for shame.
Let us be marked
not for false humility
or for thinking
we are less
than we are
but for claiming
what God can do
within the dust,
within the dirt,
within the stuff
of which the world
is made
and the stars that blaze
in our bones
and the galaxies that spiral
inside the smudge
we bear.
Matthew 13:1-9
And he told them many things in parables, saying: “Listen! A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seeds fell on the path, and the birds came and ate them up. Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and they sprang up quickly, since they had no depth of soil. But when the sun rose, they were scorched; and since they had no root, they withered away. Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Let anyone with ears listen!”
Food for Thought
My grandparents and dad grew up on farms, growing almost all of their food from the earth. The past couple of summers I have traveled with my dad to the farms - to the soil - of his youth. The earth gives us life and identity. It calls us back to pay attention, to remember, and to honor our connection to it and what has grown from it. In quarantine I have found myself called to the earth to dig up the fallow ground of my own garden, and to plant new life and possibility - not vegetables in my case, but ryusen maple and sango kaku, russian sage and weeping atlas cedar, hydrangeas and creeping thyme - myriad beautiful treasures.
It is easy to overlook the dirt, we do it every day. We walk on it without a second thought, shake it off our shoes as inconvenient, avoid the mess it makes when it rains. However, I have found it difficult to work closely with the earth without appreciating its wonder: how the soil of all that has been continues to give way to new life and all that will be. And the way that the earth holds together the complexity of creation - the trees, the water, the warmth of the sun, and all God’s critters - yielding life-giving ecosystems that are sustainable and flourishing.
Of course, the health of the soil determines what can grow from it. But even unhealthy soil can be amended; it can be changed and cultivated, enriched to a new possibility of life.
The season of Lent in the Christian tradition begins with Ash Wednesday and the imposition of ashes on the forehead, on the hands. These ashes serve as a visible reminder that we are but dust. We are finite and fragile, deeply flawed and inept. And yet, that same dust of humanity holds the potential for all our most precious and powerful moments of care and tending, of love and healing, of life-giving nourishment.
In scooping up the handfuls of dirt in my garden I am reminded of all that dust holds, all that has enriched it, and all that it has the potential to nourish. We are but dust, and yet all manner of things are given life through us - love, healing and flourishing community among them at our best and most miraculous - the wideness of God’s mercy and compassion embodied within and grown from the dust of humanity.
As we move through the season of Lent, let us remember that tending our soil - our hearts, our homes, our communities, our world - is a blessing we offer toward the flourishing of creation and humanity as we know it. We have the potential of yielding myriad beautiful treasures if we are willing to take a little time to tend to the conditions of our soil, and if we allow God to amend us a bit - to work in our lives and in our hearts toward a more loving, compassionate, and life-giving purpose.
This week, take some time to be grateful for the things of the earth. If you are feeling motivated to grow something, you can plant seeds indoors in a cup or an egg carton, or other creative containers. Great seeds to get you started are peas, lettuce, beans, chives, radishes, or marigolds, and here is an easy step by step.
Food insecurity is at unprecedented levels in many communities. Is there a way you can safely get food to folks in need? Does your community have a local food pantry, community farm, or meals program you could benefit from yourself, or that you can volunteer to support?
Blessing
Nurturing God, who enriches our hearts toward love of neighbor,
who calls us into flourishing,
Cultivate in us a spirit and commitment toward thriving community.
Lead us in intentional care and concern for our world and the people in it, including ourselves.
Remind us again and again that in the dust of who we are exists the life-giving source we can become.
A little Table Talk for your table...
In what ways does the soil of your community need tending?
You matter too! What are the circumstances that have shaped you and made you who you are right now? Is there anything that needs tending to or balancing so that you can experience a little more flourishing? (Rest, Hydration, Connection)
Think about what would be helpful toward your flourishing. Let yourself and at least one other someone know what you need. Don’t be afraid to care for yourself, or to seek help toward that end.