Tending to Lent

My mother always asked for the same two things for her birthday each spring: that I get along with my sister and that we help in the garden. I am lucky that the former request has been easy over time. The latter, to help in the garden, took root more slowly; I didn’t realize then the invitation that was offered in giving my efforts to the ground.

This year’s calendar, where the Spring Equinox falls in the middle of our Lenten season, has allowed me to really dig into this practice.  With light that lingers just a little longer each evening, I find myself outside more. I have been pulling away old leaves, clearing the garden beds, sinking my hands into the dirt. There’s something holy about it. I’m not rushing; I’m making space, as I drop bulbs and place seeds into the soil that won’t bloom for months. I am trusting that slow, quiet work is happening underground.

These practices have reminded me of something from Jewish tradition, the law of Orlah, which comes from Leviticus 19:23-25:



When you come into the land and plant all kinds of trees for food, then you shall regard their fruit as forbidden; for three years it shall be forbidden to you; it must not be eaten. In the fourth year all their fruit shall be set apart for rejoicing in the Lord. But in the fifth year you may eat of their fruit, that their yield may be increased for you: I am the Lord your God.

This law helped me hear Jesus’s parable of the fig tree in Luke 13, which we read last Sunday, differently. We often picture God as the impatient landowner, ready to cut down what isn’t bearing fruit. But this law from Leviticus gives us a different lens. It isn’t one of punishment, rather it requires us to slow down. It teaches us that growth takes tending and time, and that God’s kingdom is slow and patient in the face of human impatience.  

In my own life, there are places where I want to rush, fix, or force something to grow. But Lent — and spring — remind me that tending is sacred. Patience is part of the process. The Kingdom of God is like that: a garden cared for with hope and trust.

I wonder: what in your life needs a little more tending, a little more trust, and a little less hurry?

Let us pray:

Direct us, O Lord, in all our doings with your most gracious favor,

and further us with your continual help;

that in all our works begun, continued, and ended in you,

we may glorify your holy Name,

and finally, by your mercy, obtain everlasting life;

through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

(Book of Common Prayer, p. 832)