Absolutely lovely. And your gardening of treats to which there is a season makes me a bit jealous and nostalgic. We grow some neat things in the tropics, too, but not butternut squash or sour cherries.
Thank you! The cherries, as you might recall from an earlier essay, were quite a surprise. They have proven quite difficult to pit, so jelly and kombucha juice is likely what I'll do with them next year. Too bad I can't give you some of the surplus tomatoes! I've canned 30 quarts of salsa already, and there are probably still 20 gallons of tomatoes in the freezer...
Oh, my -- I wasn't trying to point to anything that needs to be corrected. I was noting an analogy between the wonder of nature and the belief of the church that I grew up in, and realizing that they are also both a similar practice of faith. Otherwise, I prefer to keep religion out of my garden;)
A small correction, but a useful one: the bread and the wine aren't symbols to a priest, they are the very body and the blood. I do strive to be accurate!
I love garlic as a symbol of eternity. Gardening does feel to me like endured practice of faith in the miracle of life and the spirit of the Earth. Something more evolved and spiritual than the more primal mode of survival.
I had not thought about garlic as cloning itself before (I will stop planting the smaller bulbs!). Often I consider the seed that springs forth the rebirth of something slightly new and exciting. More like the miracle of metamorphosis; Catholics and Episcopalians also believe the bread and wine are transformed by the priest into the actual body and blood of Christ. Cloning and rebirth are certainly contrasting processes providing different results; it is fascinating to consider how nature's wisdom provides us lessons of both. Each bringing forth something beautiful and bountiful.
To me, fall is a time of preparation before a hibernation that will provide the earth, and my spirit, with a fresh start. I appreciate how my garden connects me to the earth and traditions past and blesses me with hope for the future.
Yes, good point about literal transubstantiation. I'll make that change. It's a symbol for Protestants -- the actual thing for Catholics :)
And the sense of the past as a foundation for the future, rather than as its opposite, fits well with the garden. I've been struck by some echoes of the 1920s in our 2020s rhetoric. There was a lot of binary thinking among modernists about waking up from the past, making a break from history. Plenty of that going on now in tech, too. There is a longer arc of time, though, and I am grateful for relief from my apps.
Traci, I was thinking the same thing about the elements of Communion being literally the same thing as the body and blood of Christ for Catholics and Episcopalians, as well as some other Christian traditions (for instance, Orthodox, I think.)
Josh, indeed, one of the things I like about nature and Christianity (at least as I understand it) is the importance of embodiment, that it's not "yay spirit" and "boo body" but that these things are holy together, and as a whole. I think that it's fun that "spirit" itself comes from the word for breathing--something only a body can do. This is also why one of my favorite lines in the Nicene creed is that Christ is "begotten, not made"--that the Light from Light and True God from True God is not merely spirit, but a physical being who could enjoy strawberries and butternut squash like us.
Interesting points. I was raised to think of body and spirit as enemies, even though my parents were Christian hippies (going back to the land while trying to rise above the flesh creates some interesting ironies). I don't need there to be a god involved, but I think you and Jason are right that there is less difference between my thinking and early Christianity than I might assume.
You could reject the neoPlatonism that was injected into Christianity in the early days of the church. While Judiasm was always dualistic to a degree, it just didn't have the form that became ensconced in the Roman Catholic or Eastern Orthodox churches.
Interesting points. My sense as a humanist is that many world religions have a pagan root. I'm with Louise Erdrich -- I'd be quite happy with a religion of grass :).
Absolutely lovely. And your gardening of treats to which there is a season makes me a bit jealous and nostalgic. We grow some neat things in the tropics, too, but not butternut squash or sour cherries.
Thank you! The cherries, as you might recall from an earlier essay, were quite a surprise. They have proven quite difficult to pit, so jelly and kombucha juice is likely what I'll do with them next year. Too bad I can't give you some of the surplus tomatoes! I've canned 30 quarts of salsa already, and there are probably still 20 gallons of tomatoes in the freezer...
Oh, my -- I wasn't trying to point to anything that needs to be corrected. I was noting an analogy between the wonder of nature and the belief of the church that I grew up in, and realizing that they are also both a similar practice of faith. Otherwise, I prefer to keep religion out of my garden;)
A small correction, but a useful one: the bread and the wine aren't symbols to a priest, they are the very body and the blood. I do strive to be accurate!
I love garlic as a symbol of eternity. Gardening does feel to me like endured practice of faith in the miracle of life and the spirit of the Earth. Something more evolved and spiritual than the more primal mode of survival.
I had not thought about garlic as cloning itself before (I will stop planting the smaller bulbs!). Often I consider the seed that springs forth the rebirth of something slightly new and exciting. More like the miracle of metamorphosis; Catholics and Episcopalians also believe the bread and wine are transformed by the priest into the actual body and blood of Christ. Cloning and rebirth are certainly contrasting processes providing different results; it is fascinating to consider how nature's wisdom provides us lessons of both. Each bringing forth something beautiful and bountiful.
To me, fall is a time of preparation before a hibernation that will provide the earth, and my spirit, with a fresh start. I appreciate how my garden connects me to the earth and traditions past and blesses me with hope for the future.
Yes, good point about literal transubstantiation. I'll make that change. It's a symbol for Protestants -- the actual thing for Catholics :)
And the sense of the past as a foundation for the future, rather than as its opposite, fits well with the garden. I've been struck by some echoes of the 1920s in our 2020s rhetoric. There was a lot of binary thinking among modernists about waking up from the past, making a break from history. Plenty of that going on now in tech, too. There is a longer arc of time, though, and I am grateful for relief from my apps.
Traci, I was thinking the same thing about the elements of Communion being literally the same thing as the body and blood of Christ for Catholics and Episcopalians, as well as some other Christian traditions (for instance, Orthodox, I think.)
Josh, indeed, one of the things I like about nature and Christianity (at least as I understand it) is the importance of embodiment, that it's not "yay spirit" and "boo body" but that these things are holy together, and as a whole. I think that it's fun that "spirit" itself comes from the word for breathing--something only a body can do. This is also why one of my favorite lines in the Nicene creed is that Christ is "begotten, not made"--that the Light from Light and True God from True God is not merely spirit, but a physical being who could enjoy strawberries and butternut squash like us.
Interesting points. I was raised to think of body and spirit as enemies, even though my parents were Christian hippies (going back to the land while trying to rise above the flesh creates some interesting ironies). I don't need there to be a god involved, but I think you and Jason are right that there is less difference between my thinking and early Christianity than I might assume.
Josh,
You could reject the neoPlatonism that was injected into Christianity in the early days of the church. While Judiasm was always dualistic to a degree, it just didn't have the form that became ensconced in the Roman Catholic or Eastern Orthodox churches.
Interesting points. My sense as a humanist is that many world religions have a pagan root. I'm with Louise Erdrich -- I'd be quite happy with a religion of grass :).
https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.7560/723436-002/html?lang=en