Holy Encounter

Holy Encounter

Moses encountered God in a burning bush. I encountered the Holy in a blueberry bush. In the early cool of a summer morning, quiet except for a mockingbird serenade, I focused on transferring plump-ripe blueberries from branch to bucket without dropping too many. Enveloped in stillness broken only by my earnest picking, I though of the hard-earned joy of a harvest. God-Nature, with some assistance from humans, produces abundant harvests to meet all our needs.

An abundant harvest is no accident. It is the result of careful husbandry – planning, preparing, planting and tending come before. Growing up on a farm, I learned to live in the rhythm of the seasons – to live in the truth of Ecclesiastes 3: “1 There's a season for everything and a time for every matter under the heavens: 2 a time for giving birth and a time for dying, a time for planting and a time for uprooting what was planted, 3 a time for killing and a time for healing, a time for tearing down and a time for building up, 4 a time for crying and a time for laughing, a time for mourning and a time for dancing, 5 a time for throwing stones and a time for gathering stones, a time for embracing and a time for avoiding embraces, 6 a time for searching and a time for losing, a time for keeping and a time for throwing away, 7 a time for tearing and a time for repairing, a time for keeping silent and a time for speaking, 8 a time for loving and a time for hating, a time for war and a time for peace.”

I am thankful for the farmer who planted these blueberry bushes in anticipation of today's harvest, who mulched and mowed and tended to make his orchard productive. I reaped without putting in the work. In my own garden, I must do the work in advance in order to reap the rewards. With my head among the branches and my hand busy, I though of the many harvest seasons in my life experiences, of picking blackberries and dewberries as a young child of 6 or 7, of learning gardening skills, of learning the arts of food preservation, of mother and grandmother in the kitchen and Willis in the garden, patiently guiding, of more than 45 years of my adulthood -planting, tending, picking, canning, freezing so that my family could enjoy the abundance of a harvest sustainably produced.

Alone among the bushes, another bit of scripture came to mind: Luke 10:2 “the harvest is plentiful but the workers are few...” Not many people appreciate the satisfaction of harvesting their own food. Our contemporary lives are ordered differently and most people do their harvesting in a store. When I enjoy raspberry jam on my toast or make blueberry pancakes for my grandchildren or serve green beans for dinner, I intimately know that food's journey. The harvest is multiplied. The Holy is encountered again and again, every step of the way.