And So I Plant ... With Hope - Letters of Hope

Dear Friends,

In 2019 I got brave and ordered several bare root trees. That year I was growing more aware of the oncoming climate crisis. Several of the people that I follow on social media were talking about a food forest the idea that you can just walk out into your backyard and not only pick vegetables in season, but also nuts and fruits. The trees and the plants under them would be layered in such a way as to take advantage of space, both horizontally and vertically, as well as time (different things bearing fruit in different seasons). This idea sounded so much like the Garden of Eden that I was intrigued. And while my modest backyard wouldn’t supply all my needs it could supply some.

Now many of these young trees will not bear fruit and nuts for several years yet. In the last two years I have had one apple and one chestnut, neither of which survived backyard critters. And as Todd and I begin thinking about retirement from our current jobs, I realize that we might not be around when these trees reach full maturity. But I like the idea of planting for the future – that I might plant and others reap. That the next occupants of my current home will enjoy the bananas and pomegranate, avocado and chestnuts, and the creeping grape vine on the back fence.

So in 2020 I eagerly sprung into planting for the future. I find that planting is an expression of HOPE. I hope that the seeds I carefully place into planting medium will sprout. I hope that the young seedlings will survive being transplanted. I hope that the sweet potatoes and yams will naturalize in various places, so that they will continue to produce tasty tubers year after year. I hope that this year will be a good year for tomatoes and that I will learn how to handle abundance (and that my neighbors will appreciate the gift of extra tomatoes, zucchinis, and green beans). I hope that I might taste fresh stone fruit from the fruit salad tree on a warm summer day, juices running down my chin.

This week we are at an inflection point in our liturgical journey together. This Sunday is Palm Sunday, next Sunday is Easter; a time in which we ponder the mysteries of Jesus’ life and death and the symbols we use to point to that deeper truth. Just like gardening, Christianity itself is an expression of HOPE. Holding together the past, and our present, we look forward into a brighter future.

We hope that by patterning our lives after Jesus we will be changed into the likeness of the Divine. We hope that when we partner with the Divine, we will make the world around us better. We hope that by allowing Mystery to settle deep within us, that the fruits of the Spirit will ripen and burst forth, nourishing those around us. And even more specifically, we hope that by moving forward together into the Church of the Future project, that the Holy Spirit will guide us and teach us to dance with joy. I hope that we learn to live with such abundance.

“For we all with unveiled face, reflect as in a mirror, the glory of God. And we are being transformed from Holy Glory to our earthly glory, by the aid of the Spirit. 2 Cor. 3:18 (my translation).”

Peace,

+Kimberly

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Weekly Inspiration (4/6/23)

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An Episcopal Sermon: April 2, 2023 (Palm Sunday)