Blessing the fields

This week was one of those beautiful times here in the valley. On my days here I walked with people, sat outside with folks in the breeze looking at the view, watched roadrunners run around here in our garden, felt the quiet of the warm sun. Every day in San Diego, it makes me laugh, someone remarks to me, what a beautiful day today! And every day, it’s true. We have so much be grateful for in this little slice of creation.

So the alert worshiper might notice today that our hymns all have a lot to do with creation. It’s not just because it’s all lovely around us here, but because this week includes the Rogation Days, the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday before the feast of Ascension that are dedicated to praying for creation and for agriculture. On this day the custom was to process around the parish fields during planting time, praying for protection against crop diseases and for a bountiful harvest to come. The procession would ‘beat the bounds’ of the parish, going around the boundaries of the geographical parish area, blessing the fields (and reminding everyone, in a time of few maps, just where those boundaries lay). In case you’re wondering how this fits theologically with Easter and Ascension, well, it doesn’t. This was an entirely agricultural observance, tied to old ancient pagan practices. But it’s there still in our church’s English heritage, and as a church in an agricultural community, it has resonance for us today. Just this week I was visiting with some of our parishioners who are farmers, who were telling me of the new challenges posed by tariffs, by the price of water, by the citrus blight threatening local crops. Our farmers, who grow our food and help keep our area so beautiful, need plenty of our prayers and blessings.

And of course, as part of a faith that began in the agricultural regions of the Galilee, we have many ways to see and understand harvest and fields symbolically. Jesus used endless parables and figures of speech drawing on agriculture that have continued in our scriptures long past the urbanization of the church. We use terms like sowing the seed and reaping crops to talk about sharing the good news and evangelism; we talk about the fruits of the earth and stewardship of all creation, cultivated and wild. When we pray for those who work in the fields, and for the bounty of the harvest, we mean much more than just the groves and fields of Pauma Valley.

But lest we get too global in our understanding of all those images – and so water them down – we do have fields all around us, and a local parish that needs blessing, right here in this place. And we have good news to share, that those around us need to hear.

Today we hear in the Acts reading about Paul preaching good news. Paul has come to Athens on his missionary journeys. Once in Athens, he notices all the statues and temples of gods and goddesses, and he is ‘deeply distressed’ by this. Arguing with Jews and with Epicurean and Stoic philosophers alike, Paul is eventually brought to the Areopagus, the place of the legal courts and the site of philosophical debates, to speak there. He stands like a philosopher, teaching about Jesus; the crowds are curious about this new foreign divinity he’s talking about. So he starts in: ‘Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way…’ – that altar to an unknown god? well, let me tell you who that God is. And he goes on to tell them about the God of heaven and earth, using the words of one of their Stoic poets: ‘In him we live and move and have our being.’ He uses ideas that make sense to Greek minds but would have been a bit foreign to Jewish thinking: you ‘search for God and perhaps grope for him and find him – though indeed he is not far from each one of us.’ You have been seeking after God, hungry for God, even without knowing it – let me tell you who God is. And when Paul is done, he hears different responses: some of those listening scoff at him; others say, hmm, interesting, I might talk with you more about this later; and others join with Paul and become believers. By telling what he knows about God in language his listeners can understand, Paul is able to help some of those listening come to faith and find something that will feed their hunger.

When we read stories from the book of Acts, it is marvelous to see how quickly and dramatically the church grows. Sometimes we hear stories like this of just a few people or a household coming to believe; other times thousands of people are baptized at a go. Within decades there are small communities scattered all over the Mediterranean. We give Paul and his compatriots a lot of credit for this, zealous preachers and evangelists traveling throughout the known world. But it couldn’t have depended just on them. Jesus didn’t give the great commission to say, ‘Go and make disciples of all nations – and note that I’m just speaking to the professionals here.’ Those who received the good news must have turned to share it with others; those who found themselves filled with the Spirit must have invited others to come see as well. The gospel spread because so many people couldn’t stop talking about it, and living it, and inviting others into it, every day.

Because if we are experiencing real joy in our lives, we want to share it with others, we can’t help but share it – in our words and even more, in our actions. I have found this; come and see it with me. We share it because it is of utmost importance to us; and because having found it, abiding in the source of all love, we love others so much that we want them to have it too. We may need to be artful and share it in language others can hear, like Paul does with the Athenians. But all of us are or should be evangelists – or as today’s epistle writes, we should be ready to speak to anyone ‘who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you.’  

Maybe the first question of evangelism for us is an even deeper one: perhaps it requires us first to ask ourselves, what feeds me? what makes me come alive? what is it that is of utmost importance to me? To preach the good news to others in whatever way we are called to do it, we need to know the good news ourselves. When we are grounded in God’s love and spiritually alive, we can’t help but show it – the joy, the peace, the fruits of the Spirit are evident. Evangelism is, then, about finding deepest nourishment for ourselves, and showing others what we have found.

This week I have a new exercise for you to try – after all the spiritual disciplines I gave you in Lent, here’s a kind of evangelism practice to try out in this season. It’s very easy, very non-threatening. It’s simply to go around the surrounding area, our parish fields, and look to see what you see. Walking around your neighborhoods and driving around the roads and highways, keep your eyes open. Where are there signs of hope, evidence of God’s grace at work? Who do you see, and how are they gathering? Who are the helpers? And look also for signs of need. Where is there hardship or injustice? Who needs help? I’ve printed out some takeaways, including a form for noting things down. You could keep this in your pocket or your car, and jot down what you see and notice; you could go out intentionally with a partner, and explore, and talk about what you see. Either way, pay attention. Where is God at work? Where is God calling you? where might God be calling us as a community? And once you’ve started to see, pray – for the people you encounter, for the needs you notice, for God’s direction for us as we seek to serve.

It’s a way to start – to process around the fields and pray for them, to see with God’s eyes what is happening there. To open your heart to the people here around us. I’m leaving the next steps open for now, but we’ll work more and more with this in the months to come. (Your vestry has already started talking about it.) Because this is why we’re here, dear ones. To feel the Spirit poured into our hearts and then to go share it. It’s what our church is for. So God bless us as we go, to make disciples of all nations.