The Scarecrows In My Garden

Things that make you go Hmmmm. I went to the United Methodist Women’s Estate sale this morning. It is a glorious event; more than a twenty volunteers, a community waiting with bated breath at the door, a family relieved of the burden of sorting beloved Margaret’s possessions. Yes, that’s right; it was the estate sale for Margaret Freed – long admired and revered at the United Methodist Church of Merced. Our volunteers must have a variety of emotions when they serve the community through estate sales. Are we more emotional when we know the person who passed? Does it make us wonder and question the paths of life as a whole?

I rarely make purchases at these events, but something caught my eye. Margaret was a gardener and she had a scarecrow. Halloween is coming and a scarecrow is just the thing. On the other hand, scarecrows are an amazing testimony to who we are as people, aren’t they? We work hard – toiling in the soil, tending to the garden, producing fruit from nothing but dirt. We certainly don’t want the scavengers to reap the benefits; right? So we create fear to assuage our own fear.

So here I go asking questions and falling into a state of wonder about the intersections of life and faith. How do we feel about our gardens? Who is welcome in the garden? Who or what would we scare away from our garden? What would my/your scarecrow look like?

Speaking of gardens, one of my favorite books in college was called Candide, written by Voltaire. It was a story of tragic life. There seemed to be no end to the obstacles faced by Candide and the other characters. The questions constantly loomed in the background – “Is there a God?, Is God an under-achiever?, Why all the suffering?, What’s the point, anyway?”. In Candide, like at Margaret’s estate sale, the story ends in the garden. Let these words remind you…  (Warning long quote of ancient literature ahead)

I would be glad to know which is worst, to be ravished a hundred times by Negro pirates, to have one buttock cut off, to run the gauntlet among the Bulgarians, to be whipped and hanged at an auto-da-fe, to be dissected, to be chained to an oar in a galley; and, in short, to experience all the miseries through which every one of us hath passed, or to remain here doing nothing?"

This," said Candide, "is a grand question." (…Candid and company visit a wise old man, living the good life and willing to impart wisdom) 

…, he invited the strangers to come into his house. His two daughters and two sons presented them with divers sorts of sherbet of their own making; besides caymac, heightened with the peels of candied citrons, oranges, lemons, pineapples, pistachio nuts, and Mocha coffee unadulterated with the bad coffee of Batavia or the American islands. After which the two daughters of this good Mussulman perfumed the beards of Candide, Pangloss, and Martin. 

"You must certainly have a vast estate," said Candide to the Turk. 

"I have no more than twenty acres of ground," he replied, "the whole of which I cultivate myself with the help of my children; and our labor keeps off from us three great evils-idleness, vice, and want." 

(Candide and friends find it necessary to resolve the gap in life between wisdom and folly.)

"Neither need you tell me," said Candide, "that we must take care of our garden." 

"You are in the right," said Pangloss; "for when man was put into the garden of Eden, it was with an intent to dress it; and this proves that man was not born to be idle." 

"Work then without disputing," said Martin; "it is the only way to render life supportable."

The little society, one and all, entered into this laudable design and set themselves to exert their different talents. The little piece of ground yielded them a plentiful crop. Cunegund indeed was very ugly, but she became an excellent hand at pastrywork: Pacquette embroidered; the old woman had the care of the linen. There was none, down to Brother Giroflee, but did some service; he was a very good carpenter, and became an honest man. Pangloss used now and then to say to Candide: 

"There is a concatenation of all events in the best of possible worlds; for, in short, had you not been kicked out of a fine castle for the love of Miss Cunegund; had you not been put into the Inquisition; had you not traveled over America on foot; had you not run the Baron through the body; and had you not lost all your sheep, which you brought from the good country of El Dorado, you would not have been here to eat preserved citrons and pistachio nuts." 

"Excellently observed," answered Candide; "but let us cultivate our garden." 

 

-THE END- . 

If it is wisdom to cultivate our gardens, is it not also wisdom to protect them? No wonder we think our scarecrows are justified. But what happens when faith intersects with wisdom? I think I found that intersection in Margaret’s garden. Her scarecrow tells the story. When we walk in faith we don’t need to walk in fear. When we have felt the impact of grace we can show radical gratitude, a welcoming spirit – a willingness to give, to support, and to love one another. I know that Margaret’s life was filled with both devastation and unimaginable beauty. Whose isn’t? Yet, she was faithful in cultivating her garden. More than that, she was faithful in her walk with the rest of us too. Just look at her hand-made scarecrow. 

What does the scarecrow in my garden look like?

This week we will talk about Zacheus, the wee little man, on the road to Jericho. A whole community stood shoulder to shoulder, barricading Zacheus from access to what they alone had any right to. There it is again - people and their scarecrows, trying to protect their garden from those unworthy. Yet Jesus came to welcome the lost and the left out. Jesus ignored the people in the barricade and ate with the one left out. Then Zacheus had a response. Zacheus had a faith and  wisdom intersection – he opened his garden.

Enjoy God,



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