WE REACH OUT OUR HANDS & FRUIT DROPS INTO THEM

One morning late last August I stood in dappled shade under the peach tree in my tiny back yard. The grass was damp under my bare feet. The pair of mockingbirds who live in our yard were talking to each other in their domestic voices, rasping squeals far less lovely than the trilling songs the males use to delineate territory. A hummingbird buzzed by. I reached up to cup a sun-warmed, fuzzy peach, to test its ripeness, and it dropped into my waiting hand. Its fragrance wafted upward, and, breaking my custom of always waiting a day or two after picking a fruit to eat it, I took a bite. I closed my eyes and nearly swooned as the sweet juice ran down my chin.

This is my body, grown here for you. These are the words I hear any time I reach for a fresh fruit or a vegetable. If there is any sign of a covenant between the human and the divine, it is this: we reach out our hands, and ripe fruit drops into them. Not only
are fresh fruits and vegetables delicious beyond telling, they are beautiful beyond imagining. Think of pomegranates sliced open to reveal hidden ruby jewels, oranges whose bitter skin hides troves of sweet juice bubbles, translucent red raspberries, shiny purple eggplants, multi-colored tomatoes, crisp bright carrots, crunchy round green peas. Every act of eating is a communion: we take into our bodies nutrients and water from the dust of long ago stars, distilled by the power of the sun, and the intentions of life itself, into delectable juicy flesh. We partake of the Body of God.

Alas, not everyone is able to take this communion. Within an hour’s drive of my home there are thousands of city children who have never seen a peach tree, let alone tasted a fresh peach. These children live in economic poverty, having to cope daily with high rates of violence, urban blight, malnutrition, pollution, and scores of other problems. In West Oakland, for example, there are 53 liquor stores, but not one single grocery store carrying fresh produce. West Oakland’s population is poor and predominantly African American. Without money for transportation, families have no way to get the fresh foods they need, and rely on whatever is available at the liquor store.

This does not have to be. This can be healed. Consider the example of a middle school in southern California, where ethnic gang violence had escalated in frequency and intensity until finally a sixth grader was stabbed to death. A home economics teacher who had studied the effects of prison gardening programs on recidivism saw connections between the problems faced by the children at the school: poverty, malnutrition, urban blight, ethnic conflict. The teacher applied for and received a racial violence reduction grant to start a school farm and an after-school ecology club.

In her home-economics classes and during club meetings, the teacher and her assistant placed kids from different gangs and ethnicities on teams together to grow fresh fruits and vegetables and flowers. Together, the kids made plans of what they would grow and where. Together, they planted, watered, weeded, and made compost. Together, they harvested their crops. Together, they prepared meals with the food they had grown, and set beautiful tables with tablecloths and flowers outside under the trees. Together, they ate the meals, and played soccer afterward.

At the end of the year the kids were asked to evaluate their experiences. A few complained about having to get their clothes dirty at school, or getting hot in the sun. But most of the kids wanted to come back for a second year. Here are some of their reasons, in their own words:

“Because I love farms and watching things grow and being out in the sun.”

“This project is good for the school, environment (sic), frienship (sic), the soul, and the end of violence in the world.”

“Out on the farm, you’ve got to work side by side. To do that, you got to work it out. You can’t stay mad and get the job done.”

“Because then the holl (sic) world wont (sic) be so lonely.”

Racial violence declined by 38 percent in the first year of the project.


All people need to understand themselves as part of the interdependent web of being. All people need to help grow and then taste and touch and smell the beauty of fresh foods. All people need to experience the joy of reaching out a hand and receiving the body of God for themselves. All people need to partake of this communion. May we work to make it so.

Amen.

For reflection:

1. What does food mean to you?
2. Who has access to fresh, organically grown food where you live? Who does not?
3. What can you do to help those without access to gardening space or fresh food get access?


PHOTO: Big Yellow House