At St. Benedict’s Acres, the Madonna House farm, we serve the earth, the land, the forest, the plants, the animals, and most especially, we serve one another. We lay down our lives in this service.

Why do we farm? In Apostolic Farming, Catherine answers the question quite simply: "To eat!"

But this is not the only reason. At our farm, we learn, we teach, we are healed, we heal, and we bless.

The first thing we learn is humility. Through the work of farming, we experience our own poverty, our lack of control, and our utter dependence on the Lord.

We can’t control the weather. We can’t totally prevent sickness in the animals. We can’t predict which vegetables will respond best to this year’s weather or which blight or plant disease will afflict which plant.

Moreover, the realization of our need for God leads us to a deeper sense of wonder and awe.

Anyone watching the sunrise over the Madawaska River or hiking through the forests around here cannot help but feel a sense of wonder.

This wonder is intensified in those of us who farm. There is something about touching the earth, putting seeds in the soil, watching the tiny plants spring forth, watering them, nurturing them to maturity, and harvesting them in order to feed your brothers and sisters that brings a profound sense of awe and gratitude and a deep realization of the order intrinsic in everything the Father has created.

Milking the cows, helping a heifer give birth to her calf, teaching a young ewe to nurse her newborn lamb generate in us a deep respect and reverence, not only for these animals, but for every created thing.

This respect and reverence leads us to a greater sense of responsibility. We are accountable for our stewardship—of the land, the animals, the gardens, one another, and time itself.

Catherine, over and over called us to a stewardship of time. What a precious gift time is, she would tell us, a gift not to be wasted!

From farming, we learn a lot about time. We become more in touch with the flow of the seasons, with the time of planting and the time of harvest. And the fact that we are constantly up against the reality that there is not enough time to get everything done that we need to do makes us constantly aware of the value of time.

One of the most important things we learn on the farm is the tenderness of God. In the story of Adam and Eve, we are told that God walked in the garden. This has always been a very poignant image for me.

It sounds as if the Lord often walked with Adam and Eve in the evening. That kind of communication, that close, tender relationship, that seeing the face of the Father is something that we have lost.

This loss has left a deep longing in every human heart. We strive to fill that longing, that hunger, with all manner of things, but nothing else can fill it. We long to see the face of God.

I worked for a number of years in the inner city, and I came to realize there is something about the person of Jesus that we can only know through our encounter with the poor. So, too, there is something about the Father that we can only learn through farming.

In working with the land and with animals, in our connection with God’s creation and order, we are given glimpses of the face of the Father.

What do we teach those who come and work with us—both staff and visitors? We teach what we have learned: stewardship, love and reverence for the earth, for the animals, the plants, the forests, tools, and time itself.

Most especially we teach care and love for each other. Over the years there have been many different staff and guests who have lived and worked on our farm. You can imagine all the different personalities, all the different dynamics happening among us all the time.

But no matter who is here or what is going on, whatever difficulties people are going through personally or collectively, there is a common care and concern which outweighs everything else: the need to respond to what is right in front of us, the need to produce food to feed our brothers and sisters.

Somehow, putting these needs before whatever we are suffering ultimately brings healing.

Our farm, St. Ben’s, is a place of healing. Virtually every person who has ever worked here has experienced healing to some degree. One thing that brings healing is the level of awareness that farming requires.

You have to be completely focused on what you are doing. You cannot pull out the carrots when you are supposed to be pulling weeds.

You have to be very attentive to the animals. Are they healthy? Are they eating well? Are they failing to flourish or produce what they are supposed to?

And you have to be attentive to your brothers and sisters. What is happening in the part of the farm where they are working? What is happening in the canning kitchen? What is happening in the dairy?

You also have to be aware of the needs of the community. Do we pick this vegetable today? Is it something the kitchen can use right now, or do we leave it in the ground a little bit longer? All of these things we have to be aware of.

Through this need for attentiveness, you see more what is going on around you, and you listen better. Gradually, you begin to lose your self-absorption. You do not have time for it.

Your focus moves from self to other, whether that other is the plants, the animals, or the people you are working with.

Healing also comes through pouring out your life. There is no way you can give half-heartedly when the hay is coming in. Three fields of hay are cut, lying on the field, ready to be baled. That hay has to be baled right now. So you bale it right now.

A thousand bales of hay are on the wagons. They need to be unloaded right now. So you unload them right now.

Cows need to be milked at 5:30 a.m. every day no matter how tired you are. The beans are ripe. They need to be picked now. There are hundreds and hundreds of other examples I could give you.

On a farm, there is no other option but to pour out your life for your brothers and sisters. And you have to do it right now, not tomorrow or next week or when you are feeling more generous, but right now.

Perhaps the most important thing we do at St. Ben’s is bless. God has given the ability to bless to every baptized person, and here at St. Benedict’s Acres, we do a lot of blessing.

We bless the land; we bless the forests. We bless the gardens; we bless the plants. We bless the animals; we bless the pastures. We bless the buildings; we bless the tools and machines.

We bless our friends, and we bless our enemies. We bless one another, and we praise and bless the Lord. We bless the work, and we bless everything else we do.

All of this brings us to a communion, a unity of mind and heart that has nothing to do with opinions, emotions, politics, or theology. This oneness of heart is a gift of the Holy Spirit, which he gives to us as we listen, learn, are healed, heal and bless. Together we glimpse more clearly the face of the Father.