![]() On Saturday this past weekend, I spent some time peeling, de-seeding, and cubing butternut squash that we had grown this past summer in our garden. So that the quash was ready to use and did not get too soft simply sitting in storage in our basement, I vacuum sealed it in food bags and placed those bags in the freezer. As I worked, a cinema-like scene ran through my mind. Of the simple seeds that began in a simple mound of dirt in our backyard. With tending from my spouse and I–along with Mother Nature–the mighty vines of the butternut squash plant climbed the trellis we had put up for them. Then, having run out of room, they twisted and climbed their way along our green beans, in and out of our pepper plants and onion, even making it as far as our rhubarb and our horseradish plants. Finally, it flowered–big, beautiful, yellow flowers that gave way to tiny butternut squash that would–in time–grow to the very items I was cubing on Saturday. The movie playing in my head eventually gave way to thoughts about how the seeds we plant today have the ability to do such astonishing things–and I don’t just mean in our gardens. The seeds of independent decision-making that we sow in our kids today have the ability to grow independent thinkers. The seeds of hope we sow with our neighbors today have the ability to grow hopeful communities. The seeds of justice that we sow in our actions today have the ability to grow a more just world. Of course, the same thing can be said for the other side of the coin: Seeds of cruelty sown today have the ability to grow cruelty to be harvested at a later date. Seeds of radicalization sown today have the ability to radicalize an entire generation. Seeds of hate sown today have the ability to grow a more hate-filled world. You’ll notice that I used the words, “have the ability” for seeds on both sides of the coin. This was intentional. Any gardener will tell you that a person can do everything right and still not harvest what they intended. This is because there are so many factors that must come together in order that good fruit is plentiful at harvest time. The same is also true on the other side of the coin. A gardener can do nothing right–no weeding or watering or pruning or tending–and have a harvest beyond their wildest dreams (side note: There are entire YouTube channels dedicated to this way of gardening–they’ve dubbed it “lazy gardening”). In short, there are no guarantees. Yet, even in the face of so much uncertainty, gardeners do what they can. They start seeds indoors. They plan out crop rotations and garden layouts. Even “lazy gardeners” prepare the soil, put seeds or seedlings in the ground, lay down mulch, and string up trellises. They stay true to their gardening approaches–sure–but they do what they can, when they can, where they can, as they can. They create the conditions in which growing, fruiting, and harvesting are most likely to occur, and then…they wait. In this very tumultuous time in our nation and in our world, we would do well to follow the way of the gardeners. We would do well to remember that while seeds sown in cruelty have the ability to grow even more cruelty to be harvested later, that is not necessarily a foregone conclusion. Neither is it a foregone conclusion that the seeds of justice that we sow in our actions today will necessarily grow a more just world. We often don’t have sole control of either outcome. What we do have control of is what conditions we choose to help create. We can choose to create conditions that make it very difficult for seeds of cruelty to put down roots. We can choose to tend the seeds of justice like our life depends on it growing and fruiting for a bountiful harvest (because it does!). We can do our part–in our own corners of the community, nation, and world–to make it easier for hope, justice, and a sense of belonging to each other to bear good fruit at the harvest. And–at the same time–we can refuse to give our minds, hearts, and spirits over to the idea that anything is a foregone conclusion. When things look bleak at the start–just as they have for a lot of us in this first month of 2025–it can feel like more of the same is all that there is to come. But friends, that is not a foregone conclusion. We have a hand in what is harvested here. We can influence the growing conditions around us, and do our very best to impede all that is harmful and death-dealing from growing exponentially. We will not always succeed, but we won’t always fail either. We only fail if we stop trying and assume that there is nothing we can do. So, while my household is enjoying the good fruits harvested from our 2024 garden, I encourage all of us to turn our attentions to the garden of 2025, and see what might be needing done already. There’s tending to do here. There’s planning to do here. Some seeds are already in the ground, and we have at least some say in creating the conditions they need to grow–or not. To fruit–or not. To make it to harvest–or not. In our fear, our upset, and our exhaustion, may we remember that we, too, are gardeners–and we are not powerless so long as we stay in the garden…even in the midst of such cruel and divisive seeds being sown around us. Doing what I can, as I can with you, Pr. Melissa Comments are closed.
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Rev. Melissa Sternhagen
Rev. Melissa Sternhagen was called as the pastor of St. Paul Congregational UCC in June of 2020. Prior to her call to St. Paul, Pr. Melissa worked as a hospice chaplain in the Ames, IA area, following pastorates at rural churches in Central Iowa and Southern Illinois. Pr. Melissa is a second-career pastor with a background in agribusiness and production & supply operations. She received her M.Div. from Eden Theological Seminary in St. Louis, MO, and holds a MA Ed. in Adult Education and Training, and a BA in Organizational Communications. Archives
March 2025
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