Any good chef will tell you that the best produce and spices are the freshest and closest to the actual farm they came from. Local seasonal produce organically raised and carefully farmed is always the best way. The problem is that limits the chef and requires the skill level to be higher. If I have it mass produced, chemically enhanced, and flown in from all over the world, it is easier to make but the sacrifice in quality is not always worth it. I might even say it is rarely if ever worth it. Fast food sacrifices health and flavor for convenience. More time does really give more time.
I saw a man coming out of the grocery store the other day that was at least 150lbs overweight. He was wearing a t shirt advertising the show The Walking Dead. I couldn’t help but see the irony. I don’t know this man’s background or circumstance and no judgment is meant but the combination of things typifies our world. Give me more and faster so I can have it now even if it is not better.
It didn’t use to be this way. Farmers were farmers because they needed the food long before it became a profession. Open trade within a community offered variety and the hunter gatherer mentality remained to add spice and unique flavors to food. The primal nature of the process produced the goodness and developed the communal aspect. Our desire to make the process produce more and faster has limited this greatly and reduced the value of what we achieved.
Last year I toyed with the notion of starting my own garden and this season I planted it and am working through the growth curve of becoming a farmer on a small scale. This process has been amazing on multiple levels and taught me many things. The first is peace. There is an almost zen aspect to the art of cultivating and tending your own garden. It requires finesse and planing as well as hard work and strength. Plants grow with a desire to reach the sun and produce beauty before they produce fruit. The process of flowering produces the ability to grow fruit and the cycle itself takes time. It can not be rushed.
Our world moves faster and faster each day with the false assumption that greater speed gives more value. In a practical economical model it does, but that does not apply to spirituality, theology, and philosophy. Regardless of your background and or inclination on whether God exists and created us, your answer can not be something that is rushed to or presented to you by a preset conclusion from somewhere else. It needs to be explored through time. As a pastor, I have met many people that want to adopt what I teach whole heartedly but later change their mind. Rushing to a conclusion does not give value.
There is something primal about farming. There is something connecting. There is appreciation. When you order from a restaurant your appreciation is related to the bill. When you buy at a supermarket, your appreciation is based upon the sales and quality. When you grow it, it is based upon your efforts. I believe that we are created beings by a magnanimous God who shows his love daily in many ways. That is so easy to forget in daily life but so easy to see when you are looking through your garden for dinner. Food is not a right, it is far more a luxury than we admit. Having to work to get it, and then work to ensure it tastes good by finding the seasonings and spices and each individual part gives you a new perspective on appreciation.
Meals at one time were a family pursuit. It was a place for the family to connect. They all took part in making sure the meal was available plentifully and that it taste good. When your efforts truly connect to the product delivered with the intention of sustaining life for your family, your perspective changes.
One of the most stunning things you see is the clearest evidence of an intelligent design. I am not offering a polemic for the current theory as much as the concept. The earth used is a mixture of light rocks, decaying leaves and bark, and aged animal dung. Place a dormant seed from a previous version of the plant into it, add water and sunlight, and watch it become alive and grow food to keep you alive. Somehow relegating that to mere chance seems more of a fantasy than a being we can not see.
The overall process seems so interconnected. The planting and maintaining requires energy that is replaced by the product of the work and the outcome of the work provides a peaceful state that rejuvenates rather than drains. For me as a Christian, I can’t help see hope and love that directs me to a God that cares for me. Somehow the experience transcends the muck and connects with the Divine. That alone is enough reason to farm.