Feet of Clay, Pray

“Feet of clay now breathing air

  Let me be the earth at prayer”

• Steve Bevis

Context is everything. Without it - without place, relationships, history and local cultures - we drift into the arms of sly advertisers, one-eyed politicians and religious hucksters. We become consumers of stories sold to us for another’s profit, or power. Stories that quickly and ruthlessly denude place, connection, and, ultimately, life itself.

Yes, it’s bad. But the way forward is also reasonably simple. Be attentive to where you are - and remember where you are from. Even if it’s hard ground to plow, even if making the new path is laborious, work for the transformation and conservation of where you are, and the people you live with on that land.

And let me tell you, the ground I’m currently on is hard to break! Oh my, oh my!

This week we decided to get to work on the garden in earnest (for us, that means that at least we started!). We’ve put in some veggies in the raised garden bed, some fruit trees along the fence, and added some native shrubs in the corner that will complement the campfire we are installing.

To get that happening we needed to dig a hole for the shrubs.

I soon got a message from the earth itself: sent up through my arms as the shovel clattered against the hard ground. Did I mention we are on shale and clay soils here in the outer inner west?! Oh yes, we are. Rock hard soils…

Soon I was on a mission to the local hardware to find a mattock!

But the message I think the earth was sending wasn’t to find a better implement. Nor is it to lament hard soils, and give up.

Its more subtle message, I believe, is that we humans are a part of the world, and we can work with it, not just against it.

This old soil in our suburban backyard needs life; to be aerated, composted, planted with something more diverse than a monoculture of grass that was meant to complement brick and tile and a nuclear family, not rich community: people or creation.

So, a vision rises out of need: a new mix - of soil and plant, of use and conserving. It reminds me to think afresh about the places we live; of the groups, institutions and networks we are a part of - to be grateful for who and what is there. And it is also a reminder to consider what might bring fresh life and renewal. To take this stance is to be the earth at prayer. To have feet of clay that walk with imagination and holistic purpose. To be people who seek to be connected and learn to live well. To breathe in again fresh spirit while drawing on ancient stories and good traditions from our pasts.

As St Francis taught, the earth is our sister. Our Indigenous siblings around the world talk of the earth as mother. Either way, it is a way of thinking that both reminds us of relationship and of a living collaboration.

To be attentive is to pray. And prayer emerges from acting where we are. It is a rhythm of acting and contemplation.

Pick up your shovel, friends.

And trust your prayer for a richer connection, community and dwelling will be answered.