An agrarian pace regards the seasons of life. Who is more familiar with the seasons of life than those that nurture it? They are painfully aware of life's shortness, but also of its joys and triumphs. There is a time for plowing, where no seed raises its head to urge the plowman on. And yet he prevails against doubt to plow ground that will otherwise be less than suitable for the cultivation of life. There is a time for planting when the very life of the sower is sown into the ground in faith, knowing that new life is resident in the seed he buries. There is a time for tending and nurturing, when every rogue must be uprooted lest it rob valuable nutrients from the fruit the farmer labors so hard to grow. And there is a time of harvest, when the fruit of all one's efforts are joyfully gathered in with happy exhaustion. And these are not just agrarian seasons, but the seasons of all human life with which we have become far to unfamiliar, as we've withdrawn from the land to tread on concrete floors where soil once softened our every step.

 

An agrarian pace regards times of cultivation. There is a time for cultivation -- a delicate time that cannot be hurried beyond nature's pace but that can be slowed or altogether stopped by our abuse and negligence. It is a time of careful tending at every stage. The seed must be planted in the right season and the right soil and at the right depth for its nature. It must be watered -- not too much, not too little -- with just the right volume of water to keep the seed protected in its soil pocket and make it swell until its tender shoots breech its hull and break through the surface of the ground into the light of day. Then its tender shoots must be guarded against pests, predators, and the rogue weeds that would rob it of its life. For all its tender life it must be guarded and tended as branch after branch breaks out from its stem to reach for the light and warmth of the sun and explore the world around it. Every day is as important as the one before, as the life of the plant hangs as equally on the circumstance of each new day. Our children, our own lives, are like that. They cannot be hurried but can be stunted or cut off from the fullness of life. They must be buried in the rich soil of healthy homes and communities and watered with love and affection. They must be nurtured and tended so that rogues do not rob them of their livelihood. They must be encouraged to reach for the sun and explore the world around them. But do we take the time to give them this treasure?

 

An agrarian pace regards times of harvest. A season when the fruit of our steady, faithful labor has ripened on the vine should be looked forward to and enjoyed when it comes. It is a time whose pace often seems urgent and frenetic, for the fruit of all our labor can be lost in only an instant of delay or sloth. It is the time that often requires the greatest concentration of our strength and endurance, yet its rewards are worth our every effort as they extend life to the next generation for yet another year. In harvest, we recognize that there are times that we cannot wait. No matter what the cost, when the harvest is ripe, we must gather in the fruit of our year's worth of labor so that we may sustain ourselves and our loved ones for yet another day. We also recognize that we cannot run at this pace forever and that our well-deserved rest is all the more relished for the effort we poured into the harvest. We look toward the harvest. We prepare ourselves for it, and then we throw ourselves into it as if nothing else in life mattered. And when we come to the other side of our labor, we forget our pains for the joy of the harvest we've reaped and we rest.

 

An agrarian pace regards the cadence of daily life. There are responsibilities that must be tended to daily. The watering of livestock, the weeding of crops, and the most mundane of chores that seem so lack-luster and devoid of life -- these must all be done with unflagging diligence and integrity. There is no visible glory in these days. It remains hidden behind a heart that serves the harvest. Yet, the labor of these days is vital. Negligence will bear its own fruit. So the cadence of daily life must remain uninterrupted. Though the seed does not honor the effort, and the livestock do not weigh the farmer's sacrifice, yet the fruit they bear witness to the farmer's integrity. Where the vine or the tree casts its fruit, where the grain withers or rots on the stock, where the sheep and the cattle bear stillborn young, the negligence of the farmer or the wrath of God are profoundly confirmed. There are times like this -- when loss is suffered, sometimes unexpectedly -- but they ought not be every day. And neither should the glory of every day be like that of harvest. Rather the glory of each day of labor remains hidden and unheralded until birth makes its cry or until the harvest fills the storehouse to overflowing. Only then is the reward that is earned from such daily diligence gathered in due measure. And only the man or woman that walked through every one of those days knows the full price that was paid for the shouts of joy that the harvest brings.

 

An agrarian pace regards the purposes of God. It cannot pass by the purpose of the life that God has placed before it. To deny the purpose is to ignore the process that gives life. The purpose of the water, soil, sun, the purpose of the labor, plowing, planting, harvesting, the purpose of the livestock, they are all one -- to give glory to God. To abuse or neglect this purpose is to rob God of the glory that is His due. The agrarian pace cannot pass by the flower without seeing its beauty or smelling its fragrance, it cannot pass by the puddle without splashing in its center, it cannot pass by the vine without tasting the sweet pea or the ripened grape, it cannot pass by the horse without offering it some greener grass from the other side of the fence. Hidden in the agrarian pace is a Father's purpose, that in seeing His glory we might all become like children in His sight.

 

An agrarian pace regards our place in time and history. An agrarian pace cannot ignore the irretrievable importance of each day. It sees that time will never pass this way again and that this is the only moment we have to live for others. It sees today as the crucible of history in which the silver and gold of each moment are refined. It weighs tomorrow on scales that always tip in favor of the next generation. Its joys are measured not so much in the heritage it has received as much as in the heritage it has left behind. An agrarian pace recognizes that just like a plant, future history grows from a seed that must be planted in plowed ground and cultivated with daily vigilance. The agrarian pace is ever-mindful that the future depends on the integrity with which we walk in the here and now.

 

If we are racing too fast to appreciate the seasons of life, if we do not take time to cultivate the life that is around us, if we do not recognize the hour of harvest and the effort the ingathering will take, if we grow weary in the dull cadence of daily life, if we ignore the purpose of all mankind, all life, and of all creation, and if we fail to recognize the page of history we are writing with our lives, then we will lose the real treasures of this life. For real treasures, the greatest treasures, are not found in sunken ships and buried chests of silver and gold, they are not mined like diamonds and rubies, they are not bought and sold like stocks and bonds, but they are cultivated in life-giving relationships. If you have not learned to cultivate the life around you, you have lost life's greatest treasure. The agrarian pace embraces the cultivation of relationships, in all their seasons, as a way of life. The agrarian pace is the celebration of life appropriate to each day. It is a daily walk in the garden with God.