Edgy

“When you reap the harvest of your land, don’t reap the corners of your field or gather the gleanings. Leave them for the poor and alien. I am God, your God.” – Leviticus 23:22 (MSG) 

At the small scrappy city church I used to serve, nobody wanted to mow the lawn, and we couldn’t afford a landscaping company. We made a creative decision: we’d tear it up and plant a garden instead.  

At the front, near the sidewalk, we planted a peach tree. In Boston. Probably at the wrong time of year. We didn’t spray it; we didn’t prune it. We added a wonky bench next to it, and a sign that invited people to snack from our garden.  

Against all odds, the peach tree thrived. It produced a dozen, then several dozen, then hundreds of peaches with each passing season. 

Commuting pedestrians who would never dare enter a Christian church would soften their stance and step gingerly onto this sacred ground. Snag a peach and put it in their pocket. Eat a few cherry tomatoes in season, or snip some herbs. Sit on the bench, sometimes just look around at the world going by instead of at their phones, an endless stream of bad news. 

Ecologists teach that edge habitat—where human ecosystems bump wild ones—is especially fertile, attracting and nourishing all kinds of wildlife. 

What would it mean to cultivate edge habitat in our hearts? To keep soft boundaries, to leave our outer edge fruitful, and let the poor in spirit and those alienated from community rest there and be nourished? God can take a scanty harvest and make it an ample Eden, with our willingness.  

Prayer
Holy One, the world leaves us all on edge. Make us edgy in other ways, as we welcome more people into the sacred ground of our hearts.

About the Author
Rev. Molly Baskette is the lead pastor of First Church Berkeley UCC and the author of books about church renewal, parenting, spiritual growth and more. Sign up for her author newsletter or get information about her newest book at mollybaskette.com.