The Haxtun-Fleming Herald - What can we reason but from what we know? -Alexander Pope

Why is the last of the season’s produce the best? It’s not because it is perfect in form or yield. In fact much of it constitutes the roughest looking goods the garden offers, buggy and imperfect. To our surprise, while ignoring our waning garden, we chanced upon a second round of tomatoes that refused to call it quits. We dismissed further canning efforts two weeks ago after a light first frost hit. The vines have since rebounded to the degree that we feel guilty walking past them. Guilt and vegetable gardens make for a bad combination.

Admittedly, the remaining tomatoes provide unexpected but welcome accent to salads and other meals, tenuous as their existence is at the end of the growing season. It is grand metaphor for so many aspects of life. The best of what we offer should be the oldest, the wisest, and the most knowledgeable of all to pass on to those who need it most. In that process are found hidden treasures and unanticipated surprises that delight. How did we miss that pumpkin that went unpicked, or pass over the fiery red peppers hidden beneath conspiring leaves? And what of the knobby specialty gourds that have crept their way into every corner of the garden? With the optimism of treasure hunters, we revisited previous paths on a quest to discover what we casually passed over.

We easily dismiss summer gardens as fall begins to exert itself. Why are we so surprised, though, when new wonders are still to be found? During the height of the growing season there is often too much to do. Who can blame us for prioritizing the harvest? Fall produces a different kind of gardening urgency that asks what we are willing to give up for the sake of a more sane and workable schedule.

The pandemic has changed how we view the garden, what is critical, what is important, and what ought to be re-thought. It has prompted new evaluation of conditions as to what constitutes vital function in the church versus entertaining our egos under the banner of religion. As presumed institutions of faith, what is our highest, truest calling? Each faith community responds differently, variations on themes of theological understanding.

By exercising such concerns, we benefit by returning to a Jesus-centric model as a guide to the rebuilding of church community. When we accomplish that to a significant degree, then we can begin to entertain larger questions of life and living in relation to The Divine. In the meantime, who is our neighbor’s keeper? Who are our most faithful and faith-filled friends? Who are the ministers among as that carry no credentials nor flaunt degrees, but who do more meaningful work for the Kingdom in a day than most churches do in a month of Sunday’s?

How shall we measure God’s presence in our lives, by how loudly we announce ourselves at the temple doors so that all may observe our piety? We all know that didn’t impress Jesus much. Maybe it is simpler than that, akin to checking the last of the garden for gifts passed over and for a deeper appreciation of the value of produce, no matter the shape it is in. There might even be the possibility of community gardening if we first commit to share a little bit in the process.