Each morning, I walk the dogs across a rapeseed field via a footpath. Recently, the crop has begun to appear rather sad. The rapeseed plant started its life battling the cabbage flea beetle. Next came an onslaught of slugs, followed by wet weather that resulted in flooding, leaving the rapeseed submerged for many weeks. Now, they are besieged by pigeons and do not look their best. The poor plant seems destined for failure. Yet there remains hope. If you peer closely enough, getting up really close, you can see green growth at the center of the plant. A farmer friend informs me that rapeseed can lose all its leaves in the early growing stage as long as the heart remains healthy and intact, it will continue to grow. Perhaps the humble rapeseed plant, Brassica napus, to give it its official name, holds a modern-day parable for us.
Rapeseed, a member of the Brassica family, is thought to be one of the first plants cultivated by humans nearly 10,000 years ago. Archaeological evidence shows that rapeseed was grown in India as early as 4000 BC. Winter rapeseed is commonly used as an annual break crop in three to four-year rotations with cereals like wheat and barley. This practice helps minimize the risk of pest diseases transferring from one crop to another. Rapeseed is the third largest source of vegetable oil and the second largest source of protein meal in the world.
How many of us can identify with the rapeseed plant? Battered by our time's economic and geopolitical confusion. Looking pallid around the edges due to the restless and ever-changing effects of climate change. Indeed, in the UK, many will feel soggy after weeks under a dark covering of clouds that has allowed little sunlight to enter. I am sure I am not alone in feeling pecked and nibbled at, chipped away by life's frustrations and disappointments. Even the smell of cabbage is recognizable when I take off my Wellington boots after a dog walk.
In a time when the institutions around us seem to be crumbling, and the Church feels vulnerable in our shifting culture, we may ponder: where is there hope? At the Commons Cooperative, we would point to the rapeseed, particularly its heart, and encourage one another that hope is found in the healthy heart. Just as a field of rapeseed plants can support and shelter one another, communities of hope are springing up—people who, in the words of Proverbs 4, are ‘guarding their hearts’, as this is the place from which life springs.
The more we observe, listen, and dwell together, recognizing what the Spirit is up to, the easier it becomes to just participate with God rather than try to strategize our way out of decline. Why not join us at a table, journeying with us as we endeavor to build more communities of hope under God's guidance?
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