Una nueva mirada – A new perspective

Things look different. When we arrived a month ago, the first signs of fall were just beginning to appear. This morning a blanket of yellow leaves covers the ground under the Alamo trees. The vines which were once green are well on their way to becoming bare. The vineyards, and we, commence a new stage on this journey of beginnings and endings, of hellos and goodbyes. Tomorrow we embark on our return to Alabama.

Mendoza has been a wonderful place. This has been a wonderful time. Santiago and Francisco have flourished in their new school and surroundings. Perhaps they are not yet bilingual, however the culture here is now more a part of who they are and who they are becoming. Tamara’s work in the Fundacion Conin has been meaningful, and she has learned things she could not have learned back home. My understanding of vineyards and the vine has undergone a transformation. I now have a whole new appreciation of all the work that goes into bringing the fruit from the vine to our table.

The Anglican Church was my home while I lived in Argentina. While in Mendoza, I have been worshiping at the local congregation, the Lord of the Vine. I wanted to take communion here before I left, and yesterday morning an old acquaintance from Buenos Aires was here to share in the sacrament. I was struck by the readings for the day.

Mendoza is an arid, desert land. Through an intimate connection between creation and human creativity, water from the Andes mountains in channeled down to bring life to this region. An intricate system of irrigation provides the necessary support here for the abundant growth of trees, flowers, grass, and yes, vineyards. The Old Testament reading yesterday was from the prophet Isaiah, chapter 41, verses 17-20.

When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue is parched with thirst, I the LORD will answer them, I the God of Israel will not forsake them. I will open rivers on the bare heights, and fountains in the midst of the valleys; I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water. I will put in the wilderness the cedar, the acacia, the myrtle, and the olive; I will set in the desert the cypress, the plane and the pine together, so that all may see and know, all may consider and understand, that the hand of the LORD has done this, the Holy One of Israel has created it.

With eyes wide open, this image is a living, daily reality here in Mendoza.

My participation in worship this month has been as one of the congregation. Yesterday I was invited to read the Gospel. Before doing so I thanked them for their friendship and brought them greetings from their Presbyterian brothers and sisters in Alabama. I then remarked how powerful it was to hear these words from Isaiah with them here in Mendoza and to then read these opening verses from the 15th chapter of John:

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. You have already been cleansed by the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.”

I came to Mendoza with the hope of a new understanding of Biblical images like these. In a month’s time the pruning for next years crop will begin. The growers have told me how once the leaves have fallen they will take note of how the vines produced this last season. The pruning will be determined by this past harvest’s fruit. Once the branches are cut, they will be piled high and left to dry, and yes, we have used these dried branches all month to light fires to keep us warm and to cook asado (the typical Argentine manner of grilling meat).

I trust much fruit will come from this time in Mendoza. The harvest will be seen in years to come. Today my reflection is in the “abide in me.” Truly there is no life in the vineyard without the vine. Its roots are deep. Its life long-lasting. Even for a pastor it is easy to abide in other preoccupations amidst the daily constraints of life. Perhaps the challenge is to remember first the promise – "You have already been cleansed by the word I have spoken to you"; then the invitation – "Abide in me as I abide in you." Even here too there is a word of promise – "I abide in you."

As I worked in the harvest picking the grapes, I kept re-membering these words, “I am the vine, you are the branches.” As we abide in the one who abides in us, may we bear much fruit and become Christ’s disciples, and in doing so, give glory to God.

Peace be with you my friends…

Compartir la Mesa – Share the Table

Table. With whom do we share the table? How do we welcome others? Whom might we be excluding from the table? What friendships are forged there? What memories are created?

I’ve spent a good part of the last week around table. Last weekend it was a table of gratitude. We shared a meal with our neighbors from whom we are renting this house. Mercedes and Santiago Benegas and their children – Juan, Florencia, Facundo, Lucía, Santiago, Paz, Francisco & Merceditas – have been a big part of our life since we’ve been here. We wanted to thank them for their friendship and hospitality.

Saturday evening Sylvia Hughes and some of her family came over dinner. Sylvia is a good friend of my “argentine mother,” and she has been such a help since here in Mendoza. She met us at the airport when we arrived to show us the way home. She calls just to check in and see how we are doing. She’s welcomed us to her table for tea, which we all have loved, especially the children.

Sunday after church Alberto Thormann and Alejandra Civit came over with their boys to spend the afternoon over lunch and around the table. Alberto and Alejandra are both talented artists from Mendoza, and they are active in the local Anglican congregation here – El Señor de la Vid – The Lord of the Vine. I worked in the Anglican Cathedral in Buenos Aires all the years I was here, and a friend put me in touch with them when we were making our plans to come to Mendoza. Alejandra was so helpful in guiding us as we were looking for a house, a neighborhood, a school… We’ve enjoyed times together since we’ve arrived, and we wanted to thank them for their friendship.

On Monday one of our dearest friends, Mónica Tompkins, arrived from Córdoba. Mónica is the pastor of the Anglican Church there. We worked together around table with men and women who were homeless in Buenos Aires. We’ve shared countless meals and Bible studies together. Mónica traveled to Alabama for my ordination and installation at First Presbyterian Church, and we shared the table of communion there, where we welcome all whom God welcomes.

It’s been such a treat to have this time with Mónica. We’ve shared meals together with our family and spent time catching up. We’ve enjoyed the fall weather and colors here in Mendoza. We’ve been talking about hospitality in our own lives and in the life of the church, and we’ve been reading together and discussing Radical Hospitality by Daniel Homan and Lonni Collins Pratt.

I’m thankful for these and so many other tables I’ve had the opportunity to share. I hope you too can find or make time to share table with others. Sacred space is created over the meal. Holy encounters await us if we are open to them. Communion changes our lives and can change the world if we’ll let it. My prayer continues to be…Gracious God, pour out your Holy Spirit upon us and upon these your gifts of bread and wine.

Peace be with you…

Wine is Cultivated, not Made

(Dedicated to the good people of the Bodega Tapiz, Mendoza, Argentina)

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while the Spirit of God swept over the face of the waters…

God said, “Let the earth put forth vegetation: plants yielding seed, and fruit trees of every kind on earth that bear fruit with the seed in it.” And it was so. The earth brought forth vegetation: plants yielding seed of every kind, and trees of every kind bearing fruit with the seed in it. And God saw that it was good.

For months upon months, the people tended the vineyards. The vines were carefully pruned and nurtured. Once again they grew into fruit-ion. Irrigation canals brought water down from the mountains into the vineyards. The new sprouts were followed by leaves and then by clusters that would yield the fruits and the seeds. These grapes began before last year’s harvest would ever end. The fruit’s maturation was carefully followed by the agronomo and the enologo. When the time was right, they declared, “Let the harvest begin.” And they saw that it was good.

Other people now descended upon the vineyards. The hard work of the harvest was about to begin. The hands of women and men worked swiftly picking the grapes cluster by cluster. Amidst the dust and under the sun, they would fill box after box, bin after bin with Malbec, Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, Bonarda and Cabernet Franc. When the grapes were all gone, un asado was won. And they saw that it was good.

Drivers aboard their trucks hauled the grapes to the bodega, where yet others unloaded them onto belts. Teams of men and women removed leaves and loose sticks as the grapes made their way towards the tanks where the fermentation would begin. So many have worked to get the fruit to this point and place, and now that their labor was done, they saw that it was good.

Others would now nurture and cultivate the living transformation of the fruit into wine. The enologo with his team would make rounds daily testing, tasting and cultivating the formation of wine. Their helpers would macerate and aerate so that the skins and seeds would have the time necessary to give the wine its color, depth and tannins. When the temperature and the sweetness was just right, a second fermentation would begin ready to remove any rough edges yielding the wine’s delicate subtleties. Wine would be passed to barrels and bottles. This living organism would continue to develop and to grow, and they saw that it was good.

Halfway around the heavens and the earth, divided by what seems like darkness and void, yet another person prepares to celebrate a special night with someone they love. On the way home they stop into a shop. After careful deliberation and discernment, they make a specific selection of wine, a bottle containing the fruit of the labor of these many people. They go home together, and as the dinner is carefully prepared, the wine sits open on the table breathing, recovering and releasing the connection it contains to the land from which it was cultivated. The places are set, the candles lit, the two sit down and the glasses are poured. Swirl, inhale, savor, and as their eyes are opened, they look at each other. They smile, for in that precise moment they sense and see that indeed this is good.

Vola(n)do

Salí
en busca
de algo dulce
para traer y compartir

Me detuve primero
en el viñedo
donde hombres y mujeres
cosechaban
uva tras uva

Manos pegajosas
por tanto azúcar
llenaban caja tras caja
cajón tras cajón

Me metí entre las uvas
envuelto en su aroma
y arranqué vuelo
sin volar

De repente me encuentro
en una cinta movediza
rodeado por uvas
pero esta vez las manos
seleccionaban hojas y palos sueltos
y las uvas
a triturar

Volando
entré bajo ese techo enorme
y me agarró un perfume
tan intenso y dulzón
¿será esta
la embriaguez?

Apenas aterricé arriba
de un tanque de aquellos
brillante y duro
pero el dulce que buscaba
quedó atrapado
adentro
convirtiéndose
en vino
que alegra
tanto a los hombres
como a Dios

Mejor vuelvo
volando
de regreso
a la colmena mía

por Drew Henry

It is easier to uncork than it it to harvest

I've spent the last few days with people from the Bodega Tapiz here in Agrelo, Mendoza. I'm hurting tonight because I spent today harvesting grapes. It is amazing all that goes into making wine. We had an early and unexpectedly hard freeze over the weekend. I spent Monday with the agronimist from Tapiz checking all their different vineyards to see the effects of this freeze. I learned a lot about tending a vineyard as we spent the day together roaming around this part of Mendoza.

Today I worked with a group of pickers who harvest the grapes. It is hard, hard work. Many of these people are migrant workers from different parts of Argentina and from neighboring countries, and lightly put, they put me to shame. I did harvest some 200-250 kilos of cabernet sauvignon, but my back and knees are hurting for it.

Tomorrow I'm going to spend the day with the folks who actually make the wine in the bodega. It has been a real treat to get such an in depth look at the whole process, and it gives me a whole new appreciation for the wine we drink. Just before I came to Mendoza I found two wines from Tapiz at the Piggly Wiggly on Clairmont - Zolo Malbec (red) and Zolo Torrontes (white). Give them a try if you get a chance. The people of Tapiz of wonderful.

I'll check back in with you later. Peace...

We made it to Mendoza

It's been a week since we arrived in Mendoza, and it has taken me that long to find a spot where I could access the internet with my computer. The Andes and the vineyards are rarely out of sight here, and as you can see in the photo above, it is truly a stunning place.

Since we arrived last Wednesday night, we've been getting settled into our new environs. Our neighbors and folks from the Anglican Church here have been very kind in helping us to find our way. Santiago and Paco have started school at the Colegio San Jorge. The house we are renting is just a few blocks away, and I get to walk them to and from school. It is amazing how well they are doing. Today is Paco's birthday - he's three/tres.

It's taking me some time to get used to this new rhythm. Over the past days I've been reflecting on how public my life is back in Birmingham. Perhaps part of the learning for this stage of my sabbatical is to reencounter and reengage with the private/inward/family side of life.

Tamara's off to work fairly early each day. After I walk the kids to school, I've been spending the morning reading, writing and keeping up with the house. I prepare a table for the boys each day at noon, and I get to pick them up from school and have lunch together with them daily. I've got some time in the vineyards lined up over the coming weeks, and for now I'm just trying to listen to what's going on within and around me.

I'll get back to you soon. I hope you are well. 

Peace...