Pastor Don's Ponderings

"The eye cannot say to the hand, "I have no need of you," (I Cor. 12.29a NRSV) Watching teams of horses or mules work together fascinates me. Whether it is a team of Clydesdales plowing a field or the huge team of Clydesdales which pull the Anheuser Busch Wagon around Busch Stadium, whether it is a team of Belgiums pulling a corn picker in the Fall or Percherons pulling a hayfork up a barn, it never ceases to amaze me how they can work together - and work together with the person driving them. In musing over that thought, it occurs to me that we may have lost that notion in these days, with the animals we raise and train - and with the people standing right beside us: We all have to work together and have need of each other. Can you imagine how a field would be plowed if one of the horses told the other they weren't needed? Can you imagine where the horses would be if the person walking behind didn't hold and guide the plow? And, for that matter, where wo...

Thousands upon thousands of dollars have already been spent on replacement parts and maintenance, hundreds upon hundreds of hours have already been spent repairing equipment and servicing the tractors which will pull the equipment and hundreds of thousands of dollars of seed, fertilizers, herbicides and insecticides have been purchased and are waiting in the storehouses for use . . . and it continues to rain. You do not need a drone to check out the fields around here right now: They are wet. If you have ever wondered if people still pray, stand near a closed shed door with a farmer this time of year as another round of rain covers the earth. Oh, the rain may be pretty and the smell of a Spring rain may be absolutely intoxicating, but every thought, every word, which emanates from a farmer who is ready to start tillage and cannot because of rain is a prayer from their lips to God's ears.  Watch their eyes. They may look up as though checking the clouds but, truth be told, th...

Farming is a very solitary vocation, even while done in community. Just ask a farmer. This is Bob Lehman, a neighbor of ours just a few miles away. He and my Dad have known each other for years and, though none of the ground we farm adjoins Bob's, still he and we are members of that steadily shrinking number of folk who can claim that, indeed, they are farmers. The vocation names them together, the isolation identifies them singularly: They may all be doing the same task at the same time, but there is only one who farms the fields you farm, the way you farm them, with the interest and commitment with which you approach it. When you are running the combine, you - and only you - are responsible for the outcome. Drive by any field being harvested. Ever notice stalks of corn standing where the rest of row is gone? Or a strip of wheat in the middle of a pass? Or a short row of soybeans standing where none others are left? Did you ever wonder why that happened? Only the farmer know...

On my way to work this morning I called my brother, Larry, to find out what is going on at the family farm. It was one of those moments when, as soon as he spoke, I knew he had a cold. You could almost hear and see the sinus' dripping through the cell connections and he sounded horribly stuffed up . . . and he was walking towards the shop as he talked with me: They are working on the planter today. Rain, sleet, snow, burning sunshine, foggy mornings, there is always something to be done on the farm and rarely, rarely, is there time for sickness of any kind. This is the mindset into which I grew up on our family dairy farm: No matter how you feel, the cows still have to be milked, the heifers and calves have to be fed, the chores need to be completed and, oh if that isn't enough during this time of the year, there are always fences to be fixed, trees to be trimmed in the pasture, equipment needing repair before Spring and book work to be done to facilitate everything else. ...

Just the sight of Fall tillage makes me smile. Anyone connected with farming smells a picture like this as much as we view it, maybe more than we want to admit. There is something about ground being opened in the Fall, something about the manner in which soil rolls around the tillage tool, something in the sound of the tractor pulling the tool and something in the sound of dirt opening and closing behind you which makes a farmer's heart happy . . . and the smell, the smell of Fall time tillage is luxuriant.  Fall tillage is essential for the coming crop year. Though not every acre of soil can be tilled in the Fall, due to erosion risk and crop history, those acres which can be tilled, weather permitting, are often done at something of an angle to the planting direction to facilitate cutting through layers of compaction. Yet, more than that, deep Fall tillage buries some of the refuse from the previous years crop, allowing for a more rapid rotting of the plant into needed hum...