Putting my hands in the soil is one of Spring’s delights. As the seasons turn again, I’m spending more time in the yard outside and working in the flower garden. The perennials are showing their impressive resiliency, especially after a hard winter. But there are empty patches where the earth is low and the mulch is thin. Time to turn the earth over again and plant some flowers to fill the spaces with annuals.
Every year, it seems, the flower bed needs just a little bit more earth, more fertilizer, more mulch. You can’t leave a garden alone for years and expect it to give itself the needed nutrients that the winter snow and rain leached away. It’s an annual work, a regular commitment of time and resources.
The annual work in the garden makes me think of our growth in the Spirit. Garden work suggests that life requires regular attention. Its discipline mirrors the rhythm of commitment and re-dedication of a spiritual practice. We pray, we read, we serve, we worship in the name of the Lord—not as a one-time/one-off event.
On Sunday, May 26, we celebrate the affirmation of baptism of two, young women in our congregation. Confirmation, however, is not a graduation that communicates ‘we are done’. In the time leading up to the Confirmation—the classes, the meetings, the events, the learning—those on the journey do not learn everything they need to know forever.
Rather, the Confirmation is like a mile-marker on a long journey requiring ‘annual’ attention and care. Learning about God and becoming a faithful disciple is a life-long dedication. Growing like this also means that your garden (your life) may look very different after a few years on the journey than it did when you started (on your Confirmation). That is, your ideas may change over time. Your relationship with God and your understanding of God and the world will develop and evolve—and hopefully expand. You can’t stop attending this garden at your Confirmation, pretending that you don’t need to do anything more, and expect it to do well.
Two years ago, I completed a St. John Ambulance First Aid course in preparation for my Camino pilgrimage. It’s amazing how much one forgets—especially as I haven’t needed to use those skills I first learned two years ago. This Spring, I need to attend, again, to this garden.
What garden work beckons you this season? Is it attending public worship in your house of prayer? Is it some form of community service, or of contemplative prayer? Whatever commitment you seek, it is to deepen, enrich, enliven and renew your connection to the divine presence. This is part of what it means to be human, be alive, and be loving.
I encourage you to pursue a practice, and I look forward to getting our hands ‘in the soil’ again!