Urban Farming

Some intriguing and inspiring footage from a group of twenty or so families deliberately moving to an area of social deprivation in order to rebuild community, dignity and hope. It also happens to be not far from where some our extended family live. You can find out more about their activities here or on Facebook.

One thought we had about considering such a model in, say, Sydney or Edinburgh, is that since property prices have not crashed in the same way (yet?), then finding a suitable package of affordable land might be considerably more difficult. This hasn't stopped one group trying to do something somewhat similar in the Sydney CBD.
H/T John.

Going green without the dreadlocks

Guest post by Mark Stevens

Average white Australian male seeks sustainable way of life without hugging trees, giving up deodorant or growing dreadlocks.

In my early twenties I imagined I would live out my life in the concrete jungle in a swanky apartment somewhere in the inner city. I would spend my time sipping lattes and networking. An apartment was the perfect choice for me. No garden meant no outside work and more time for networking and coffee. I cared little for the environment and had almost no concern for the earth beneath my feet. My theology was firmly entrenched in the heavens. I gladly ignored the "on earth" part of the Lord's prayer.

I recently turned thirty-five. Last week my family and I installed solar power and we are two years into a five year project to produce half of our food needs through our veggie patch, chickens, fruit trees and vines. I am a minister, a pastor. Every spare moment I find is spent in the garden with my wife and two children. If I cannot get into "the patch" as I call it a few times a week I begin to get restless. Gardening forms my Sabbath day and my Sabbath rest. Fifteen or so years later I love being outside. I love the earth beneath my feet and between fingers. I never knew espresso could taste so good as it does sitting in my patch perusing the coming harvest.

So what happened? How does an average white Australian male fall in love with gardening and desire to live sustainably? Well, I cannot speak for everyone but for me it all began with my wife and Jamie Oliver.

My wife’s influence is a no brainer. I love my wife. I like spending time with her. She likes gardening and being outside therefore I like gardening and being outside. As I began to spend time digging holes for her, weeding with her, planting with her and our children, the practice of gardening grew in me. The snip of the secateurs as I pruned roses and the smell of fresh compost drew me in. As I undertook these most basic of garden chores I discovered a rhythm, a spiritual rhythm. I found myself praying “leisurely”; I found myself relaxing.

I also discovered how much I appreciated the feeling of accomplishment which came from gardening, especially the veggie patch. At the end of the day as the sun began to set, I could see what I had accomplished. My work had shape and form. Much of what I do in ministry is mysterious and unknown to me. With gardening it is apparent. I have proof that I have "done" something. As the seasons roll on, I see the reward of our labour. In fact as I write this I can see the thirty or so jars of preserves, bottled sauces and other dried goodies all grown and harvested in our garden. (Don’t get me started on how much hospitality the garden has produced!)

I realise that coming to gardening and an understanding of sustainable living through Jamie Oliver is the equivalent to arriving at a theological degree by studying with Pentecostals (tongue firmly planted in cheek) - something else which I did - however, it was Jamie Oliver’s television series, Jamie at Home that began to develop in me a vision for life which grew up out of our own land and not the land of others. I loved the way he grew food and then cooked with it. As I saw the way he lived, I found myself longing for a different kind of life, one which revolved around the seasons and flavour and not the shops and my consumer-driven tendencies. Jamie may not be everyone’s cup of tea (something else we can grow in our patch) but he has, for me at least, opened the realm of my imagination.

More than anything I have discovered gardening has helped me slow down, reflect more, pray more and spend time with those I love. In all honesty, I am unsure about the science of climate change (for no other reason than I am not a scientist by any stretch of the imagination) and I could never see myself leaning left and voting Green. But why shouldn't conservatives also care about conserving a livable planet? As a Christian, I believe in creation care and creation stewardship and it is on this topic that conservatives like me have remained silent for far too long! I am very concerned at how worried we are about the financial bottom line and yet give little to no thought about our environmental bottom line. I believe my generation is using the environmental credit card to rack up a debt which makes the US debt ceiling seem like a parking fine. I worry about the future for my kids.

As a family we have made the decision to "do what we must" (as opposed to what we can) and live in a way which reflects the hope we have in Christ for a renewed creation alongside a renewed humanity. It has cost us money and time. It has meant we have had to adjust (not change) our thinking. I doubt our small effort will achieve anything on a large scale, nevertheless, we believe we are doing the right thing. The rest is in God’s hands. By the way, I haven’t worn deodorant for years but don’t tell anyone!

Rev Mark Stevens is minister at Happy Valley Church of Christ in Adelaide, South Australia. He is a regular contributor at Near Emmaus and has his own blog at The Pastor's Patch.

Are all foods clean? A review of Food Inc.

"The way we eat has changed more in the last fifty years than in the previous ten thousand."

- Food Inc., opening line.

"'Do you not see that whatever goes into a person from outside cannot defile, since it enters, not the heart but the stomach, and goes out into the sewer?' (Thus he declared all foods clean.) And he said, 'It is what comes out of a person that defiles.'"

- Mark 7.18b-20 (NRSV).

Jesus' words were a radical challenge to the Jewish practice of his day, overturning the Old Testament food laws and the traditions that had grown around them. Jesus' redefinition of purity as a matter of the heart and what comes out of it rather than the mouth and what goes into it has left an important mark on our eating habits; we don't think twice about tucking into a crab soup or creamy bacon pasta.

But perhaps sometimes, as a result of this very passage teaching us to see food as a non-issue, Christians can miss the ways in which our hearts may be deceived even as we eat food that Christ declared clean. In particular, there are ways of eating that fail to love our neighbour and fail to adopt a properly human, humane and humble attitude towards the rest of the created order. Our hearts may be defiled, even as we consume delicious feasts.

For anyone who is largely ignorant of contemporary industrial agriculture and its practices, Food Inc. is a good place to start to investigate where our food comes from. It is primarily a US perspective, and some of the details do differ elsewhere in the industrialised world, but not always by a great deal. Most urban dwellers are unaware of the social, ecological, animal and economic realities that get our typical diet into the supermarket. And most are surprised to find just how far we have departed from the stereotypical pictures of rural life still found in children's books and on food packaging. As in all kinds of other ways, the last fifty years or so have been truly revolutionary in this regard. I will not attempt here to summarise the various threads followed by the film, tracing the damage done to workers, animals, soil, waterways, other nations and farmers themselves by contemporary methods of industrial food production, though I was a little surprised to note that there were significant points still left unsaid, even after a string of unpalatable revelations.

But the film is not all ugliness and disgust. Having lifted the lid on the true cost of our cheap food, it moves on to explore two somewhat contradictory approaches to an alternative. On the one hand is an attempt to fight fire with fire, to build an organic and ethical food industry that can compete with factory farming by building a market for organic products in mainstream distributors at a competitive price. On the other is the pursuit of regenerative farming that moves beyond merely being organic to question the broader economic and political structures that govern the whole business. One asks us merely to change our consumption patterns and has faith in the market to deliver the goods that we demand; the other questions the very forces that help to (de)form those demands. The former, more pragmatic, approach is making significant inroads when measured by market share, but does it represent a form of greenwash, a slight improvement that actually serves to dull the necessary critique of a deeply flawed economic and political system? Or is the latter too idealistic and risks missing out on making small but real gains that are actually available for the sake of goals too radical to ever gain widespread acceptance?

This tension is a frequent one in ethical thought, where compromise needn't always be a dirty word, but where the possibility of self-deception via superficial changes is also ever present. This documentary is worth seeing, whether you are blissfully unaware of the origin of your next meal or already struggling with the ethical questions raised by contemporary food practices.

Jesus, who taught us that all foods are clean, also taught us to pray "give us this day our daily bread", and identified his body and blood with elements we take into our mouths. He was not seeking to remove food from the realm of faithful living before God, but to deepen our perception of what joyfully wholesome food might look like. It cannot be identified merely by its flavour or appearance, but depends on the relationships with our neighbours (human and otherwise) that it represents.

Can you give thanks for what will be put in front of you today?

What shall we do? Twelve responses to converging crises

Responding to contemporary converging crises
Human society faces a series of converging crises in our economy, energy and ecology. It is very difficult to know exactly how these will interact and pan out. The depth and breadth of the problems can be overwhelming. Recently, a Christian friend asked me for personal advice as to what he can and should do to take these matters seriously. I made the following suggestions (what have I missed? Or how would you improve this list?):

1. Give thanks for the good world. There is so much going wrong with the world and yet it remains a good gift of the Creator. It is right to grieve, but a healthy grief requires the nurturing of our wonder and appreciation for the goodness of the creation that our actions are degrading.

2. Repent of the patterns of consumption and acquisition that lie behind so much of our destructiveness. Billions are spent every year in a largely successful effort to corrupt our desires, convincing us to covet the cornucopia of stuff that pours out of the world's factories. Learning contentment is at the heart of a good response, since it frees us from feeling the need to protect our toys or way of life and so enables us to focus on what is important and worth preserving (the glory of God, the welfare of our neighbour, communities of trust, the richness of God's creation, and so on). This may not end up "saving civilisation", but it helps us keep our heads when all around us are losing theirs.

3. Stay rooted in the gospel of grace, hope, peace and joy that celebrates Christ's death and resurrection so that you are free to grieve, yearn, groan and lament, that is, to pray. The temptation is to look away or harden our heart to the damage and the danger because it hurts too much.

4. Reject false hopes. We are not going to make it out of this place alive, either personally or as a society. The goal is not to secure immortality, but to love, trust and hope. Society is likely to change significantly or even radically during our lifetimes. The myths of endless growth, progress and individualism are likely to be unmasked for the illusions that they are (though this will be resisted because people hate to lose their dreams, far less to admit that their dreams were actually a nightmare). New illusions are likely to replace them. Survival is not your highest goal. Self-protection is a secondary consideration.

5. Assess your life and habitual patterns to see where your ecological footprint can be significantly reduced: eating less meat, flying less frequently or not at all, driving less or not at all, switching to a renewable energy provider, investing in insulation and local power generation, avoiding all unnecessary purchases and buying responsibly (e.g. food that hasn't been strip mining the soil, local products, durable products, and so on).

6. Invest in communities of trust. If and when things get difficult or there are significant disruptions to "normal", then people tend to distrust strangers, but to keep their friends closer. Get to know your neighbours and people in your local community. Strengthen your ties to a local church.

7. Engage organisations seeking to transition to a more resilient and less destructive society (such as the Transition Network, concerning which I'll have more to say soon).

8. Get out of debt, as far as possible. Debt is a bet that the future is going to be more prosperous than the present so that I can incur debt now and will have plenty to pay it off later. This assumption is becoming increasingly dangerous. Owe nothing to anyone except to love one another (Romans 12.8).

9. Petition governments and corporations as citizens, not simply consumers. The roots of our problems are far larger and more systemic than consumer choice or personal greed. Structural changes are required to reduce the damage we are doing. Here is a good example of a letter to banks that briefly makes the case for disinvestment in fossil fuel projects on both ethical and business grounds. Such engagement may begin with petitions or letters, but it certainly needn't end there. Civil disobedience has a noble history in reforming unjust laws and practices.

10. Learn to garden or some other useful skill that you can share with others and which keeps you grounded in the material basis of our existence.

11. Keep learning more about the world and its problems and opportunities. We live in a novel period historically and we currently have the benefit of a large and growing body of research into these matters. Having some idea of the major threats and what they might mean for you, your community, your society and the world helps to orient your practical reason and will make you a more responsible citizen and neighbour.

12. Proclaim the good news, using every means you have, that Jesus is the true and living way, the dawn from on high that has broken upon us who live under the shadow of death and ecological disruption, and which guides our feet in the way of peace.

Gardening and faith 101

Postprandial ruminations
As I mentioned back here, Jessica and I have taken up gardening - at least as much as it is possible to do so on a small, south-facing, third-floor balcony. For the last few months, we've been enjoying quite a harvest: scores of cherry tomatoes, handfuls of capsicums and chillis, dozens of beans and snow peas, even some carrots, corn and potatoes, as well as a constant supply of basil, thyme, sage and mint.*

One of the most fun bits has been our worm farm, which takes nearly all our kitchen scraps and peelings (not to mention a little paper and even hair clippings) and turns them into high quality fertiliser. I think part of the delight for hardened urbanites like us has been to witness the full cycle of growth, production, consumption and decomposition. Living in a city, it is easy to forget the connections between all these things, especially the truth that there is no "away" to which we can throw things. "Garbage" is just something that belongs somewhere else - often in the worm farm!

Perhaps even more thrilling than watching worms gorge themselves has been the experience of seeing seeds grow and turn into recognisable and edible produce. Although I studied agriculture from year 7 until the HSC, this remains a surprising delight. A simple pleasure, but it's true that there's something special about eating what you've grown yourself. Could it be that part of what's special about growing your own food is that this experience powerfully brings home the reality that you didn't grow it yourself?

Let me explain. So much of our urban environment is the result of human manufacturing and ingenuity. From pixels to plates to polystyrene, we constantly and subtly receive the message that we are the fashioners of our own space and the makers of our own destiny. But the mystery of a growing seed explodes the myth of self-sufficiency, either individual or human. We rely on others all the time: not least to grow, harvest, transport, store, (often) cook and dispose of our food; we rely on the non-human all the time: the rains in season, the sunlight that freely bombards our planet twenty-four seven, the soils ground up or belched forth from the earth. Growing food yourself reveals that we don't grow our own food.

Jesus once told a story:

"This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man scatters seed on the ground. Night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how. All by itself the soil produces grain—first the stalk, then the head, then the full kernel in the head. As soon as the grain is ripe, he puts the sickle to it, because the harvest has come."             – Mark 4.26-29

What is true of our lives and basic sustenance is also true of our hope in God's kingdom: we are primarily audience, recipients, beneficiaries. In the life of faith we are simply surprised and delighted farmers, dole bludgers on God's grace, children receiving his fatherly care. And thank God for that!
*If you compare this list to the one back here, you'll be able to work out all the things that sadly didn't make it.

In praise of... new delights

My parents have always loved gardening, a passion they each gained from their parents. Such weight of family tradition (combined with the need to be out in the sun for long periods of time) ensured that I only contributed to the weeding and composting when they were explicitly added to my duties or there was a bribe of some kind involved. When smaller, I mildly resented the space 'lost' to such important activities as backyard cricket. When a teenage, I mildly resented the time 'lost' to such important activities as sleeping. Isn't it good to grow up?

...And to help other things grow up! My wife and I now have a small garden on our balcony. Last year we tried growing some herbs and had such a wonderful basil harvest that we gave away bottles and bottles of homemade pesto for Christmas. This year, particularly after a gardening workshop at church,* discussions of permablitzing, and a growing realisation of the importance of eating locally produced food, we've decided to diversify and see what survives: not just basil, but thyme, sage, mint, oregano, parsley, watercress, rosemary, coriander (which has already bit the dust), rocket, carrots, lettuce, zuccini, tomatoes, beans, snow peas, radishes, broccoli, corn, potatoes - and worms. Due to our location, gardening also no longer means spending hours in the sun, both because with only a few square metres, it would be hard to spend hours, and because our balcony is south-facing, three floors up, and under cover and so doesn't get any direct sun.
*The second image is of an old tennis court at the back of the rectory which Tim has converted into a very productive organic vegie garden. He recently ran a very successful "square-foot" gardening workshop: gardening on a tight spacial budget.
Series so far: I; II; III; IV; V; VI; VII; VIII; IX; X.