The Vegi-Pod Fiasco

 

The Vegi-Pod Fiasco

 

Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7

Israel plants gardens in Babylon 

 

29:1 These are the words of the letter that the prophet Jeremiah sent from Jerusalem to the remaining elders among the exiles and to the priests, the prophets, and all the people whom Nebuchadnezzar had taken into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon.

 

29:4 Thus says the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon:

 

29:5 Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce.

 

29:6 Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease.

 

29:7 But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.

 

 

Since this week’s message features a prophetic passage about hope, let me start with a story of hopelessness!

 

A few years ago, Dara and I ventured out to the annual Home Show in Pittsburgh, held at the massive Raphael Vinoly masterpiece, the Convention Center. Since our townhouse is a fairly new structure, we went only to “get some ideas” about minor improvements, not expecting to spend much, other than gazing time. Of course, you know how that works out. At the end of one long aisle, we came across a display of “Vegi-Pods,” which is an Australian invention. The Vegi-Pod is a free-standing, elevated gardening device, with a ventilated cover to keep destructive insects away from your “crop.” The unit has a large plastic base that holds an amount of water, that automatically feeds the plants, when their roots grow through the dirt in the upper level, and into the water layer. Since we really can’t have a garden in our small backyard, and other “container gardens” had been eaten alive by insects, we decided to spring for the smallest of the Vegi-Pods on display, along with a stand and the optional top cover, designed to let air and light in, but keep bugs out. At just a bit over $400, they would ship it to us, so we didn’t have to lug stuff around as we continued perusing the show. As it turns out, that was a big mistake, on a couple of counts. Not being incumbered with Vegi-Pod boxes meant we would be enticed by a super-deluxe, split-top, queen-sized mattress with a fancy, remote-controlled, duel-adjusting frame. Suffering from guilt over spending $400 on the Vegi-Pod thing, we assuaged it by buying a $9,000 mattress and adjustable bed. (At only $250 a month—with no interest—we’d have it paid off in only three years.) We really like the bed, by the way, and it’s been very good for my back and acid reflux. The Vegi-Pod is another story…

 

For the past three years, we’ve put new, special “raised-bed” soil in the Vegi-Pod, filled its lower chambers with water, and have tried planting various “crops” in it, from tomato plants, to peppers, to even the most simple leaf lettuce. The “high-tech” cover keeps the destructive insects out, but apparently, it is just as efficient denying the plants what they need to grow. One season, we decided to hinge the top back to expose our plant sets to the proper natural elements, and the insects feasted on them, as usual. Our $400 Vegi-Pod investment has been a disaster. Since neither Dara or I have a “green thumb” with growing stuff, we have consigned ourselves to buying produce at the market and will offer the Vegi-Pod up at a future moving sale, hoping someone who has an Australian heritage can make sense of it. At least we’re getting a good night’s sleep.

 

In this week’s lectionary passage, Israel starts out behind the proverbial “eight ball,” as they find themselves in exile in Babylon, again living as “strangers in a strange land,” mostly because of their selfishly fashioned unfaithfulness to Yahweh. They long for Zion, wanting desperately to go “home.” They cry out to God about it, sing about it, and are just otherwise miserable in Babylon under King Nebuchadnezzar. Their cries to God seem to be hitting the ceiling, as the prophets had told them it was God who sent them there because of their unfaithfulness, in the first place. Now, I must remind the reader that Israel practiced a strict monotheistic faith, when they decided to be faithful to Yahweh, their God. The great Shema they recited regularly, and which we see peppered throughout the Old Testament, was: “Here O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one.” Other than those times when they tried out the multiple “godlets” of the tribes around them, this is what they believed. As monotheists, they necessarily believed that everything—EVERYTHING—had to have its causality in this one God. Even “evil” had to come from God, including Israel’s frequent misfortune of being conquered and taken into captivity by stronger nations. And as monotheists, on their best days, they believed that only Yahweh could be their deliverance. Hence, they cried out to God in their misery, hoping for better days ahead, when God decided to listen.

 

In this case, God gives Jeremiah a hopeful message to share with God’s people, Israel. The prophet tells them to “home out” in Babylon—plant gardens, build houses, and enjoy whatever bounty they can muster in captivity. In short, live like you ARE in Zion. It sounds like an overly simplistic message, but think about what God, through Jeremiah, is trying to do here. Here is a short summary of the message:

 

         “Stop crying and start living. A place is not as important as your attitude about life. Longing for Zion has become an excuse for making yourselves miserable. Even in Babylon, you must eat, raise your children, love your families, build a harmonious community with one another, and most of all, return to your faithful life with Yahweh. After all, the forever promise is that God will always be with you. God is a “portable” God—wherever you are, God will be WITH you, not hanging around in Jerusalem, waiting for you to rejoin God there.”

 

When Israel adopts a better attitude and starts building a better life in situ, they will rediscover that God IS with them. By developing an enthusiasm for their lives, their faith, their families, and even it “seeking the welfare of the city where God has sent them,” they will be so much better off. And just possibly, a metamorphosis on their part might lead to freedom and a return to their homeland. Of course, we know it eventually does.

 

The psychology here should not be lost on us, either. As a pastor, I can testify that much of my time in the counseling room was with parishioners who found themselves in deep lament over where they “were” at a given stage of life. As they would describe their angst, I could hear that they were in some state of “exile,” either foisted upon them, or self-imposed. Exempting persons who suffered from some form of clinical depression—which almost always requires professional, even medical intervention—I would often share Jeremiah’s counsel to Israel from this passage, with the reminder that God was with them, as well. As Christians, who are not monotheists in the sense that we must locate all “evil” and misfortune in God’s lap, we do believe that “God so loved the world that God sent the only Son” for our redemption and benefit. God is NOT against us; God is eternally FOR us. And God desires, as indicated in the Christ Event, to deliver us from whatever “captivity” in which we may find ourselves. Still, we may have to “plant some gardens” and work at changing our attitude before we reawaken enough faith to again see the light from God illuminating a path forward.

 

There is also something to this “seek the welfare of the city where you find yourselves” encouragement, too. If the place we find ourselves seems hostile toward us, perhaps if we invest a little energy in improving ITS outlook, we might possibly find our own outlook improving as well. “Planting a garden” is another way of saying “bloom where you are planted.” There is an old fable about an aging man who responds to his own waning mortality and the recent death of his wife by planting a tree, the fruit of which he will never see. While his neighbors chide him for it, declaring the act as “folly,” the man names the tree, “Hope.” In his own final days, he watches it take root and begin to grow, knowing that others will benefit from his response to grief. (Note that many funeral homes today offer an opportunity to “plant a tree” as a gesture in remembering loved ones who have died. See where it comes from?)

 

Friends, if you ever find yourself in some “captivity” that is so confining it is sapping all of your energy and leading to sleepless nights—kind of like Israel in Babylon—maybe it’s time to “plant a garden,” or “seek the welfare of the city” by engineering a change in attitude. Begin by renewing your faith in our God who has planted his OWN garden among us by sending his Son, Jesus Christ, as our friend, guide, and Savior. Oh, and if you want to give a Vegi-Pod a try for that garden, I know where you can get one real cheap. Amen.