Several months ago I went grocery shopping on a day when I was especially distracted and distressed. I realized as I was leaving the parking lot that I had left a bag of cereal and fresh fruit sitting in the cart in the parking lot when I loaded up. I paused a moment to consider turning around—it had only been a minute, the food was probably still there—and I decided to leave the food for someone else to pick up, hopefully.
I remembered this tiny incident this week as I read today’s brief verse from Deuteronomy: if you forget part of what you’ve reaped, leave it for others.
Along Parkview Avenue a couple old apple trees still stand near the road. Every once in a while I see a car pulled over as people pick the fruit.
Seattle and a couple other cities are planning and developing food forests in public parks. Anyone walking through will be able to forage edibles from the plants, bushes, and trees around them. (beaconfoodforest.org)
Food Is Free. That’s the name of a project that began in Austin, Texas a dozen years ago. A couple people decided to grow a small garden in their front yard and tended it in full view of their neighbors. Conversations happened. Sharing food happened. Meals got shared. Ideas got swapped. After a while, 19 households of 30 on the block had front yard gardens. People could harvest each other’s gardens as need arose for particular produce; anyone walking down the street was welcome to pick some food. The project has grown into 350 cities worldwide. Gardens for sharing from appear. Tables holding extra produce appear. Relationships and well-being grow. (foodisfreeproject.org)
These projects, and others, strike me as good modern examples of the principles pointed to by today’s scripture. These brief verses join others scattered throughout the Torah that urge us to care for widows, orphans, aliens in the land. The poor. The powerless. The propertyless. Leave some grain behind. Leave some olives behind. Leave some grapes behind. Let others reap some of what you have grown. Help others meet their needs.
This scripture from Deuteronomy also bears some resemblance to indigenous practices described by Robin Wall Kimmerer in several places as the Honorable Harvest. The practices of Honorable Harvest include never taking the last, taking only what you need, and always leaving some for others.
Leave some behind. Care for others. Care for the earth. These interactions make life sustainable for all. There is enough. There will be enough.
If we don’t take all that it’s possible to take.
If we trust life’s cycles and abundance.
If we take a long view.
If we resist fearfulness.
If we share.
If we’re willing to release control over what finally happens to what we leave behind.
All of that is implicit in today’s words from Deuteronomy. All of that is implicit in the practices of Honorable Harvest.
None of that is especially common in our present circumstances. And we’re far from the subsistence agrarian communities of those who first knew the Torah. Some of us garden. But no one harvests grain swinging a scythe around as seeds and stalks fall to the earth, making it certain that some will be left behind.
In these days, when we think about leaving something for others we’re more likely to think about writing checks or making digital transfers of money. When we think about caring for the vulnerable and powerless we’re more likely to give money away. Or time. And we’re likely to put a great deal of thought into where we place those resources.
Being generous with our time and money is, of course, extremely important. Skyridge depends upon generosity. Many organizations depend upon generosity. That’s the primary way we care for others. That’s an enormous factor in efforts to keep people out of poverty and fed and housed and clothed and secure where they live.
But there’s more to consider here.
In today’s scripture the produce, the grains, the essentials of life left behind for others emerge directly from the conduct of everyday life. Everyday business. The sustenance described here doesn’t even necessarily come from conscious effort. If you forget a sheaf of grain you’ve bundled, the scripture says, don’t go back and get it.
If you forget a bag of groceries…oh well.
This aspect of the scripture raises for me the question of what I unconsciously, or naturally, leave behind in the course of my days. What do we leave behind simply because of the ways we tend ourselves and cultivate life-giving practices? In our everyday, what do we leave for people? What gets left along our paths, without us thinking about it? We can never know for certain. But we can attempt to grow in our lives, and leave in our wakes, much that contributes to thriving and sustainable life:
If we cultivate compassion, we may leave some sense of understanding behind us.
If we cultivate paying attention, we may leave a stranger with a brief sense of respect and humanity.
If we cultivate patience, we may make life momentarily easier for a cashier, a healthcare worker, a child.
If we cultivate suspending judgement, we may lift someone’s sense of shame or embarrassment.
And so on.
Then, maybe someday you’ll pass a pair of gloves to someone on the street or put a tree in your front yard for others to pluck fruit from. And continue, or grow, whatever contributions of time or money you make toward the well-being of all.
May we always tend and cultivate our lives, our hearts, our spirits in ways that allow us to leave life-giving sustenance to others. Unconsciously. Naturally. Freely.
Scripture: Deuteronomy 24: 19-22
-Rev. Ruth Moerdyk