Sermon- March 26, 2026

“I Am My Mother’s Garden”

Rev. Mark B. Robel

This past Wednesday was Earth Day – a time for all of us to take a step back and remember the blessings this plant bestows on us. The beautiful mountains and rivers, the oceans and forests. It’s a day to remember our connection to all that is, and our responsibility to care for and cultivate the beauty we have been given. And as a society, we need those reminders as often as possible!

As most of you know, Tom and I are avid gardeners. I have been tilling, planting and playing in the dirt since I was a young kid. Early on, it was making mud pies or adding leaves or acorns to my mud creations to see what would emerge. As I got older, I experimented with taking small patches of grass and transplanting them to see if they would grow – not only grow but expand.

As a teenager, I planted my first vegetable garden. Tomatoes, peppers, beans. I learned how to compost leaves over the winter from a neighbor talking over the fence. Henry was his name, and he had the most spectacular vegetable and flower gardens that I had ever seen! To my surprise, my vegetables took off, and each year I had a bumper crop to share. Both of my parents, who definitely were not gardeners, seemed genuinely surprised and pleased with my success.

What I started to realize was that taking care of the soil, taking care of my tender little plants, took diligence and patience. But what I also realized was that I had a deep, soul-felt connection with getting my hands in the dirt. Those of you who garden know exactly what I mean.

Our 7th Unitarian Universalist principle, respect for the interdependent web of existence to which we are all a part of and our shared value of interdependence, speak to us about our connections – not only to one another but to all existence. It’s not only about our caring for one another, or our personal relationships – it’s about our relationship to our community, our relationship with our earth, our relationship to our universe. Our lives can be filled with such commotion and noise that it becomes easy to forget that our faith calls us into connection, calls us into covenant with each other – but also to what surrounds us. It continually reminds us that none of us is an island, none of us stands alone.

This past Thursday, as I was driving back to CT from Wellesley, I was listening to the Jim and Marjorie show. I actually try to time my trips so that I can listen to a major part of their show when I’m driving during weekdays. The beginning segment of their show this day was how to have difficult conversations with family and friends. When you disagree with someone’s opinion or outlook, how do you approach that? Do you shut them down and cease all contact, or do you do the hard and sometimes painful work of having a conversation with that person? Jim and Marjorie asked folks to text or call in with their thoughts.

Sure enough, the conversation turned to politics, and the majority of callers shared stories of family or friends who are or were Donald Trump supporters, and how their support or lack of support affected their relationships. One caller in particular really made an impression on me. This woman spoke about our ethical responsibility to each other, because of our connection to each other. In this crazy world we’re currently living in, we have forgotten or lost our ability to connect. It has become easier to hide behind our screens and not pay attention to our need for connection. The type of connection that’s built into the DNA of our souls.

And yet, becoming and staying connected can be one of the hardest and scariest things we do in our lives. And sometimes the road to connection is filled with bumps and turns. How do I make amends with this person that I find ridiculous or out of touch? What influence can I have on climate change – how is it possible for me to make a difference? What is my responsibility in the destruction of the rain forests in central and south America? These are all big questions.

Wendell Berry writes:

“It may be that when we no longer know what to do

we have come to our real work,

and that when we no longer know which way to go

we have come to our real journey.

The mind that is not baffled is not employed.

The impeded stream is the one that sings.”

So perhaps our real work of connection is when we don’t know what to do, when we don’t know which way to go. Perhaps that is exactly the place to start.

Several years ago, after my mom’s death, I hung a wooden plaque in the garden that said, “I am my mother’s garden.” There was something about that quote that spoke to me – certainly because I had just lost my mother, but it made me smile to think that I had been planted, cared for and cultivated by my parents. However, the meaning of that quote has changed for me. I see mother as mother earth now, I am my mother earth’s garden – needing to be tended, watered and pruned. Needing to take care of all of her creations, both human and beyond.

Gardening has now become a spiritual practice for me. After a long and cold winter, getting my hands in the dirt is exhilarating and holy for me. It reminds me of my connection to all things and brings me closer to what my own truth is.

Gardening also challenges me – challenges me to be patient, to care for myself and others, and understand that sometimes growth is slow. As in the story Diane just read, gardening also asks us to adapt, be in harmony with others, and to remember that the world is ever changing. Being connected means letting go of expectations in order to thrive.

Suzie Kassem, an American-Egyptian author, poet, philosopher, filmmaker, and cultural thinker known for her literary and cinematic works that bridge Eastern and Western cultures, writes:

“Everybody has a little bit of the sun and moon in them. Everybody has a little bit of man, woman, and animal in them… Everyone is part of a connected cosmic system. Part earth and sea, wind and fire, with some salt and dust swimming in them.”

Kassem’s words are exactly what our 7th principle and Interconnected Shared Value speak about. When we are able to connect with our world, in real and authentic ways, we are also connecting with each other. We become our Mother’s Garden! When we nurture and cultivate and prune our world, the universe will nurture and cultivate and prune ourselves.

This is what our faith tradition is really all about…understanding that we have a responsibility to each other and to our wider world. We have a responsibility to love the heck out of creation – all of it. And most importantly, a responsibility recognize how blessed we truly are to be a part of this crazy, chaotic, unstable world, but also a world that unfolds in endless possibility and hope. That is the true miracle of creation and the true miracle of our faith.

I’d like to end with these words from Edward Abbey, the American author and essayist, known for his advocacy for environmental issues and criticism of public land policies. He writes:

“May your mountains rise into and above the clouds. May your rivers flow without end, meandering through pastoral valleys tinkling with bells, past temples and castles and poets’ towers into a dark primeval forest where tigers belch and monkeys howl, through miasmal and mysterious swamps and down into a desert of red rock, blue mesas, domes and pinnacles and grottos of endless stone.”

And may we always make it so!