The "Dirt" on the Church's Dirt

--I wrote this for my church's newsletter and thought I'd share it with you at home and in internet land.  Please note it we still have not reached the "last frost date" yet in Massachusetts--


The “Dirt” on the Church’s Dirt

Church member Kim rakes the newly tilled soil 

After preparing a garden bed here at the church and our community garden plot in Watertown, I’d like to share some insights on dirt, dust and soil from Lent. I also learned some theology in Soil and Sacrament by Fred Bahnsen, which really highlighted how we are connected to the Earth. Soil is the basis for all life. It provides a medium for plant growth for our food. Even the stones and wood in our houses, and really everything we own comes from the Earth. If we ever needed a reason to take care of it: all we have is made from it. I’d recommend the book to anyone curious about food or faith or soil.

Our connection with soil, the Earth and food starts at the very beginning when God created Adam-[Hebrew for “Red”] from the Adamah “red soil” and the very first thing he tells Adam is to “Till the earth and keep it” On page 8 Bahnsen puts it:

"The garden is our oldest metaphor. In Genesis God creates the first Adam from the Adamah, and tells him to “till and keep” it, the fertile soil on which all life depends. Human from humus. That’s our first etymological clue as to the inextricable bond we share with the soil. Our ecological problems are a result of having forgotten who we are—soil people, inspired by the breath of God. “Earth’s hallowed mould,” as Milton referred to Adam in Paradise Lost. Or in Saint Augustine’s phrase, terra animata—animated earth.  The command to care for soil is our first divinely appointed vocation, yet in our zeal to produce cheap, abundant food we have shunned it; we have tilled the adamah but we have not kept it."

I used to think the Lenten image of coming from dust and dirt was depressing, “all we are is dust in the wind.” But when you think about it, beautiful mountains are made of the same dust as us. Volcanoes,
birds, venus fly-traps—all from dust. We YAVs often remember shooting stars are made from the same dust! We are dirty and mortal, but for some reason, we are the dust filled with the breath of life, the
breath of God.

I felt it timely to read this while planning to build some raised beds in front of the church. The original garden plan was to build raised beds and add all new soil. But when we realized our wood was pressure treated with “cronized copper azole” which the internet says may contaminate the soil and make edible plants toxic. We looked for alternatives.

In a conversation with the expert, Farmer Dave Dumaresq, the idea came up to just test the soil in the yard for about $20 and add whatever nutrients were needed for probably another $20. After all, almost any farmer will tell you, “soil is your most important crop”. After looking further into costs it would be around $100 to buy wood and entirely new soil so we decided to work with the existing soil to save money. April 5 during the church work day, I mailed in a soil sample to UMass Amherst Extension. Look for the results on a bulletin board soon. Basically the lead levels were safe, so we could plant edibles, but it hadn’t been tilled or kept in years. It was very deficient in the macronutrients; particularly phosphorus, also lacking nitrogen, potassium, calcium, magnesium, and manganese.

UMass and Farmer Dave gave recommendations on what to add, so I spent $15.09 to add dolomitic lime to raise the pH and some fertilizer to add the nutrients. I chose a chicken-manure based fertilizer because of the high phosphorus content. Chickens are fed more phosphorus than they need, so their poop is very high in phosphorus and in large chicken houses, the phosphorus is so concentrated it can cause problems in the water table as it leaches into the soil. So sourcing manure for phosphorus on our yard, is helping to reduce the strain on the groundwater below a chicken house somewhere—but it doesn’t solve all the problems. And it gets back to the “to dust things return” idea.

In just 2 hours with 4 people, a few tools, and $35 spent on a soil test and amendments we prepared the garden bed on Monday the 14th, and the Manna Monday kids planted seeds and bulbs in it on the 21st.

 Watching Sally, Arielle, and Kim help me dig up the soil, the kids dropping in seeds, and 6-yr old Adelchi Grassini hi-five me with dirty hands on Manna Monday, I felt we were honoring God’s first vocation to Adam, to “Till the Earth and keep it.”

Take a look at the garden when you get the chance. If the rabbits don’t eat everything, we may have some fresh veggies and herbs from our little piece of Earth, Adamah, for coffee hours this year.

The Easter Encounters #1 Black and Pink Guy

In leu of the 12 days of Easter I decided to focus on all the people I've met here and the mysterious ways God is working in my adventures, beyond my control and in ways I wouldn't.  On the first Easter people saw the real face of Christ in some people they randomly bumped into.  I want to write about specific people I've seen in Boston this time of Easter who are the hands and feet of Christ, and I see it in their faces.  Also a few side notes on other cool missionary stuff in Boston might show up here.

#1 Black and Pink Guy

We usually eat dinner together, but Audrey and Libby had services to attend at their churches, and Kathleen was going to meet Libby at Harvard square to go with her.  Harvard is where the bus takes us from our house to get on "the T" (or subway, like "the metro" in DC).  I planed to go on my own to the University Lutheran Church in Harvard, near the Harvard Campus.  They were finishing a Thursday night series of meals that involved serving communion at a table in the sanctuary as part of a potluck dinner.  Two weeks prior I did it and we literally passed the bread and juice to each other around the table, and then the soup and salad, and wheat berry dish from Whole Foods, and glazed carrots, and chipotle nachos with lime, and then read the bible and ate cookies all at the same time.  Our Lord's last supper for supper. None of this one little piece and a shot stuff we do on Sunday worship.  God gave ALL of himself to for our sins, for ALL of us, to fill in our gaps and shortcomings, eat and be filled!!

So I was walking to this church when I walked past a particular guy on the bench.  He looked familiar.  I recognized him behind his glasses, but wasn't sure because his hood was all the way up, he looked at me too.  When our eyes crossed we did the awkward quick look away as if nothing happened.  But then I recognized his backpack and a white reusable shopping bag.  I continued the awkward walk-away from the awkward look-away.  Then I stopped.  It hit me.  On Monday doing the Farmer Dave's distribution, I had a conversation with this guy, close to my age.  He comes into the church every so often to pick up food for Lisa ______ when she's out of town.  This week he was packing it all into his red backpack and white shopping bag because he biked to the church.  I remember talking to him about how crazy that road is for bikers.  There are so many potholes and you often have to choose between hitting the pothole or hitting a car to dodge it, and if the bus ever comes by while you're biking there on rt. 3A, well all the angels this side of the book of Revelation better come to protect you or get ready to carry you on to heaven.  I couldn't imagine biking there with the week's food bungee-d to your back like him.

I was at the end of the sidewalk when I did the creepy turn around to see if he was still there because I knew who he was now, and the internal battle played in my head; "do I say something to him or not."  So I just did it. I walked back and asked, "do you pick up food in Burlington for Lisa ______?"  He said yeah, and that he recognized me too.  Funny how that works--ask that person the next time YOU see them on the bench.

I got his name, he lives in Burlington.  He used to live in Allston across the river from me in Watertown.  He stopped in Harvard on his way to Dorchester (a less affluent neighborhood on the south end of the red line train) for a meeting with a group called Black and Pink that advocates for incarcerated LGBTQ ABCDEFG people.  They send newsletters, and coordinate pen pals with inmates as a ministry.  He told me all about it.  I could see his passion for the issue, he was almost as weird about it as I get with food sometimes meeting new people.  He just kept throwing information at me because I know so very little about these nuances in our prison system.  I was super encouraged to see this kid, probably younger than me, doing incredibly powerful work for so many people.  We crossed paths pretty out of the way for our usual places, and he inspired me.  Maybe I inspired him?

Just a side note about prisons, a few weeks back I saw a documentary with Libby called "The House I Live in" about the prison system and the war on drugs.  Check it out.  That one hit home since at home half my neighbors in Virginia work at the prison in Craigsville, and the other half got busted for cooking crystal meth (slight exaggeration).  I know maybe 20 families that work there and maybe 4 arrested for drugs.  Libby cares much more about the criminal justice system than I did until recently, and she's shown me a lot of Bread for the World's resources on incarceration (check out this one about Nate's story).  Particularly how hard it is to get a job after finishing time in jail.  Haley House where I volunteered the day after Christmas(see 2nd day of Christmas post) has a cafe set up by the Catholic Workers to train and employ ex-convicts in a restaurant.  It helps the economy, people, and local farms where they buy the ingredients.  Plus it's the only place up here I've found that serves cheese grits!

We spend so much tax money taking care of people who've messed up, or maybe have just been victims of our broken system.  Why not invest that money into social work programs like Haley House, or Thistle Farms in Nashville, or Dismas House, or many other programs popping up that let them contribute to fixing the system that perpetuates crime and violence.

After the guy on the bench and I parted ways, --him to work for the kingdom, and I to worship in the kingdom--I decided to no longer go to the Lutheran church, but to meet Kathleen and Libby there at Harvard to go to Libby's church with them.  I met them at the B.Good burger place and bought some dinner--A veggie burger with bacon (and got some funny looks).

The service was very reflective with lots of Taize music.  It's music and scripture that repeats simple verses over and over  and over and over just beyond the point where you get tired of the same words, but you move into actually thinking about what the words mean and what God's saying to you in them about the 19th time.  The service ended peacefully after more contemplative music, verses of Jesus' final hours, and sharing communion (not with soup and cookies, but in the pews with the little shot glasses and identically cut squares of potato bread).  God broke his body and poured out his blood for us.  Maybe we don't need that other stuff, the soup, salad, and wheat berry dish from Whole Foods.  God gives us enough, and he asks us to give it to others.  What a special opportunity to have.  This guy on the bench shared his blessings with others in Dorchester on Maundy Thursday.

All the men in my life are gone

All the men in my life are gone.  That’s not really true at all, but the two I see regularly are leaving. 

Ryan's Facebook picture

Twice a week every week since I got here (except holidays and retreats) I’ve spent the day with Ryan McDonnell with the Boston Faith & Justice Network.  He’s a super tall, highly motivated, high achieving, organized composed, cheerful man.  He took me hiking in New Hampshire and picked my brain to understand how living simply is tied into faith.  I picked his brain about it too.  He taught me a lot on this, and he guided me in the ways of running the behind the scenes bookkeeping of a non-profit.  Ryan’s been one great example of a Christian and a man to look up to and work for.  His example of someone running a non-profit is remarkable.  And I’ve learned so much from him in just the seven months I’ve spent opposite him at the table in the kindergarten classroom in the basement of Hope Fellowship church.   He was there with empathy when Gus died. Unfortunately his close friend had a similar fate last year as well, so we bonded over that undesired grief something I wish neither of us could share honestly.  He reminded me "the light shines in the darkness and the darkness could not overcome it." Working with him was all anyone could ask for in a first job, but he recently took a job with World Relief, (http://worldrelief.org/Page.aspx?pid=2684).  It’s basically his dream job.  So he’s gone.  He’ll be showing donors who they are supporting overseas, and touching the lives of many here in the US, and abroad.  Very cool.

Rod's Facebook picture

Every Sunday, give or take a few when I went to the early service at Pillow Presbyterian, I’ve seen the face of another outstanding gentleman, Mr. Rev. Roderick MacDonald, the pastor of my church in Burlington.  He has the good-hearted humor and humility, but respectable leadership qualities I hope to get for myself one day—a trait I’ve only seen in a few others: my father, one of my Botany teachers Dr. McMullen, and my friend from Kansas Michael Tracey.  Rod and I had a good talk about what calling means, he’s taught me how much fun church can be all the time.  He wrote a song and smashed wheat berries with me for the Manna Monday program we created at the church.  Rod was the lucky one to spend the day with me and my excessively weepy and distraught self the day I heard Gus died.  Because two ladies in the church, Jane and Millie, headed the oversight of my work here as my supervisors, Rod was never my boss, just my Pastor.  And I am very thankful to have that type of relationship.  I am thankful for his help organizing the YAV program here so that I have this church as a home for the year. He was such a part of so many lives at this church for so many years.  They will have a big transition coming up at the end of the month when he retires. (and they'll get my 2 months notice sooner than I'm ready for)   I'll miss his wife Cathy too, it just feels like she's my aunt or something the way our conversations go we must be related if you trace it back to Scotland.

I’m gonna miss these two lovely fellas, but life goes on, right?  People move to new “seasons” in their lives all the time, organizations and churches transfer leaders every so often.  People we know die. We will die one day.  Time is short.  Life is short. We all fall short. 

The grass withers the flower fades, but the word of God lasts forever.  My dad says that a lot.  Old things pass away behold everything’s new. 

Cherish the time you have with people because God’s the only one who hangs around forever, but cherish your time with God too.

So much of life is temporary, seasonal, always changing.  That just means it’s life. 

Change the things you can in good ways, leave good marks and a good example behind when you go like Rod and Ryan did for me, Like Gus did for me.  Make sure you always let people know they are loved and Go with God when you leave.  

Thank you Ryan and Rod for all of yourselves that you gave to me and shared with me, to so many others before me, and so many more to come.

So many men (and ladies) still in my life to still change, grow, and learn with, so little time.  All the men in my life really aren't gone, but two really cool guys are moving on ahead of me.