Koinonia Farm is proud to announce a new opportunity with Airbnb to provide a behind the scenes tour that follows the journey of a pecan from the tree to the bakery. Ride in a wagon pulled by a tractor and listen as Norris tells stories about the pecan orchards and the people who work them. Follow Jim as we explains the pecan plant and what part each machine plays in harvesting, cleaning, cracking, and sorting the pecans.
Visit Geneva in the bakery and get hands on experience with some of your favorite Koinonia products. And, of course, join us for a delicious handmade lunch!
We are beginning our tours on October 15 and will have these experiences available on Mondays and Fridays throughout the fall and holiday season.
Koinonia Farm is proud to partner with Canaan Palestine, a Fair Trade and sustainable farmers coop that makes delicious and traditional Palestinian food such as olive oil, Maftoul (Couscous), and Freekeh.
Looking for ideas for how to use these traditional Palestinian foods? We have some great recipes for you from Canaan Palestine’s own website! Here’s a delicious way to cook Freekeh and Maftoul (Couscous).
Heat olive oil in stew pot, toss lamb pieces over medium heat for
about 5 minutes. Add 6 cups of water, Freekeh pack, salt and pepper and bring to a boil. Once it boils, turn heat to low and cover to cook on low heat for 45 minutes. Then serve. For vegetarian Freekeh soup, simply skip the meat.
Ingredients: (Serves 8 to 10 people)
1 pound (500 g)/2 packs Canaan Maftoul (couscous)
1/4 cup of Canaan Nabali or Rumi Organic Olive Oil
1 cup raisins
1 onion, diced
1 bunch green onions (scallions), chopped
1 bunch parsley, finely chopped
2 pieces fresh red cayenne or chili peppers, sliced thin
1 lemon, juiced
1 teaspoon of black pepper, freshly ground
1-teaspoon of Canaan Za’atar spice mix, Herbes de Provençe or favorite spice mix
Prepare the Maftoul and set aside on a tray to cool. For one pound of Maftoul, bring 4 cups of water and one tablespoon of salt to a boil, toast 1 pound Maftoul in 2 tablespoons of olive oil for 4 minutes on medium-high heat, then add toasted Maftoul to hot water and let simmer for 12 minutes. Fluff with a fork and spread on tray to cool.
Meanwhile, add a cup of water to a cup of raisins and simmer in a pan for 10 minutes. Then let cool and drain. Sauté onions in 1 teaspoon of olive oil, and let cool. Combine green onion, parsley, and hot peppers in a bowl.
Mix Maftoul salad: In the bowl of cooked Maftoul, add raisins, both kinds of onions, parsley, hot red pepper, 1/4 cup of olive oil, lemon juice, pepper and spice mix. Mix together and serve in small salad bowls.
Note: any hot red or green pepper will work, OR substitute Canaan Fair Trade chili olive oil for some of the oil, and use chopped sweet red peppers for the color.
A Few Thoughts from Bren
I found this in my notebook — God is not resigned to losing anybody. There was no indication where it came from. Usually, I jot down the name of the book and the page number when recording notes, but there was nothing there. I don’t think I am the author so, “Good author, though I don’t know your name you captured my attention and imagination and sent me looking.” I knew I had read a similar sentiment about God somewhere in Clarence Jordan’s writing. I found it in “The Father’s Pursuing Love” in The Substance of Faith, a collection of Jordan’s sermons. I highly recommend the book.
What if God’s pursuit of us is not limited by space and time? What if the redemptive process does not stop even with death? Clarence admits that “we’re on very uncertain ground here,” but he does go on to use Scriptural references for his musings.
What is the nature of God? Jesus came to give us insight into that nature. He may have asked [and still asks], “You hear what I am teaching you? You see what I am demonstrating for you?”
Clarence points to three parables in chapter 15 in Luke’s Gospel to underscore more about God’s nature. What does the shepherd do when he loses one of his hundred sheep? He looks for her. How long does he look for her? He looks for her until he finds her.
How about the woman who had ten coins, but lost one? She picks up her broom, lights a lamp and sweeps “until she wears out her broom, until the lamp went out, until her husband came home.” Does she quit sweeping to make her husband and herself something to eat? No. She keeps sweeping until she finds that coin.
The third is the familiar The Parable of the Prodigal Son. Clarence suggests that we call it The Parable of the Father’s All Pursuing Love. In Jesus’ culture, a son could ask for his inheritance ahead of his father’s death. If given, the father was then dead to the son even though he was very much physically alive. The son, too, was dead to the father — the relationship was broken. What does the father do in this parable? He waits. And, against all cultural norms, when the son comes home the father declares him alive. How long does the father wait? He waits until the son comes home.
God is the shepherd, the woman, and the father. God seeks the sheep, searches for the coin, and waits for his “dead” child. Clarence goes on, “Doesn’t [this] say to us that God in his relationship to us is not bound by time and circumstances?” Then he points to First Peter where between the crucifixion and the resurrection, Christ descends into Hades and preached to the people there. Clarence asks, “Why would he preach to them if there was no chance for their redemption?”
“This is what the resurrection is trying to say to us — that the grave is not the final answer. The grave has been swallowed up in victory, death has lost its sting,” writes Clarence.
My heart fills to overflowing when I think of being loved like this. My heart fills to overflowing that this is the nature of the Creator of the universe. Like Clarence, I’d like “to be an implement in God’s hand, an agent of his in shedding his love abroad to people.” I’m imperfect at it, but there is something about the collective at Koinonia through the years that has been just such an implement. People come here and feel, if only for a bit, this pursuing love of God. I think they get an inkling of it not being “the will of God that any should perish.” Perhaps they go from this place loving their neighbors and their enemies just a little bit more. Maybe they go from this place knowing a little bit more about God’s nature.
Let it be so.
A Few Thoughts from Bren
Aristotle wrote, “beauty occurs when all parts work together in harmony so that no one part draws unjust attention to itself” and “the chief forms of beauty are order and symmetry and definiteness.”
My recent trip to Italy has me reflecting on beauty and what an important spiritual food it is. I got to see so much beauty — frescoes, sculptures, paintings, architecture, music, fountains, Michelangelo’s The Pieta, the Pantheon, St. Peter’s Basilica, the Sistine Chapel, even the Roman Colosseum though some horrible things happened within it. I experienced beauty and was nourished by it
Beauty opens a door and invites you in.
It doesn’t have to be physical beauty. When I visited Koinonia for the first time, there were buildings in need of repair and a coat of paint here and there would have helped. Nonetheless, I remember thinking “this is beautiful.” Maybe it was those few minutes spent in the museum hearing Ellie Castles’ story about the commitment of the members in the early days. Perhaps it was the far off glimpse of the pecan orchards — we had no time that day to go for a walk among the trees.
This encounter with something beautiful led me to read Clarence Jordan’s books and to listen to his recordings. I was fed.
A writer I admire, Robert Barron, offers that of the ultimate values — beauty, goodness and truth — beauty is the most powerful, the most alluring, the most winsome, and can draw us in. When it does, then one can move from beauty to the good and then to the true. Beauty can open the heart so one can come to know goodness and truth.
I confess that too often I am distracted and don’t see the beauty around me. But I have returned from my trip desiring a steady diet of beauty. I live at a beautiful place. Fine works of literature fill our library. We sing often. I want to be aware of the beauty of the lyrics and hear the beauty of the melody. I want to take long, slow walks through the pecan orchards more frequently or I simply want to stand in our garden and watch the organic vegetables grow.
And the incredible people who come here … I want to be more aware of who inspires me and let their inspiration work on me. Just last week we had 47 young people from the Bruderhof Foxhill Community visit us. They were full of joy and their work ethic left us speechless. They had talents and gifts and freely gave of themselves. They were beautiful.
I have come home with my mind on beauty and how we all can thrive from this spiritual food. Who inspires you? Do you look for beauty? What feeds your spiritual life? What is beautiful to you? How can we incorporate beauty into our everyday lives, in big ways and small ways, so we may be fed and come to know goodness and truth? We are starving and we need food — good, wholesome, spiritual food. May beauty fill us up. May it spur us on to goodness, truth, and a full life.
A Few Thoughts from Bren
Elizabeth is away this week so I’ve had the chance to facilitate the intern study sessions. I’ve enjoyed every minute. It has been a while since I’ve been able to be with the interns as they discuss their readings. In four different sessions, the interns and I have talked about hospitality to the stranger, Mother Teresa and the Missionaries of Charity, non-violence and God’s economy.
In Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove’s God’s Economy: Redefining the Health & Wealth Gospel, he writes about subversive service. We serve subversively when we take seriously Jesus’ example — he came to serve not to be served. Our culture sets us on our way to climb ladders, to get ahead, to build up treasures and too often we are taught or at least see around us that “becoming great means making someone else small.”
Wilson-Hartgrove shares an interesting take on Jesus reprimanding the disciples for turning the children away. Children were worthless in the ancient household economy. But, to Jesus, the children were worthy of being served and taking their place in his lap and by his side. It is the small, the weak, the blind, the lame, the widow, the stranger, and what our world is quick to call the worthless that Jesus served and so we are to do the same.
As Wilson-Hartgrove writes, “Jesus didn’t aspire to fix the system or to overthrow it [the ancient household economy]. He submitted himself to people in simple service in order to show us a better way. Jesus offers this tactic: we usher in a new way by subversively submitting to others in the twisted economy that is all around us.”
It makes me think that we should rename the internship the Internship in Subversive Service. Interns come alongside us to welcome and serve people. This service is mostly in small ways: a smile, a meal, a clean room in which to stay, a quiet conversation … it occurs to me that the smaller the service, the more subversive it is. Every person is hungry, maybe not physically hungry, but hungry. Every single person is worthy of attention. It also occurs to me that if each of us submits ourselves in simple service then everyone is being served. Everyone is lifted and — using words our culture likes — everyone wins.
Many interns have come through the farm. I am in touch with a lot of them. There have been weddings and babies coming into the world. There was even a birthday party this last weekend in Virginia — Katie and Wyatt Miles who were interns during the spring term of 2014 turned 30. A couple of us got to go celebrate with them. Katie and Wyatt welcomed about fifty guests. We were from all over, of varying ages, various religions, and from all walks of life. For a party favor we got to choose from a stack of well used books — books that were some of Katie and Wyatt’s favorites. There was a personal note in each. We, of course, enjoyed delicious food, played games, and danced. Some of us even got to spend the night. I recognized their hospitality. It felt like home.
I like staying in touch. It helps me know that subversive service is spreading. That brings a smile to my face and adds a jolt of joy to my heart.
A Few Thoughts from Bren
“(God) has never learned to deal in fractions.” — Clarence Jordan
Our oldest son was born with a non-life threatening condition that would require surgery. The medical professionals told us it could wait until he was older. He was not quite two when we drove to the hospital for the scheduled procedure. There is one image from that day that still breaks my heart. These last several weeks that image has haunted me.
It was not comfortable seeing our active little boy lying there. The anesthesia had worked quickly. But for some reason, no one came to take him to the operating room where, of course, we would not be allowed to go. I began to worry he would wake up. And he did.
He began to stir so I rubbed his back hoping against hope that he would fall back to sleep. It didn’t work. He sat up just as the two surgical nurses came into the room. They were both friendly and one picked him up surprised that he was awake. She called him by the wrong name as she carried him away from us and into the operating room. He was reaching over her shoulder, crying, calling for me. She kept telling him he would be all right and kept calling him by the wrong name. It wasn’t her fault – we called him by his middle name. I was sobbing so hard I could not correct her. “His name is Dillon. Not Andy. His name is Andrew Dillon. Not Andy. Dillon.” I could not stop crying until long after my baby had been returned to the recovery room.
It is real for me what is happening on the U.S. border. I know the terror, the panic, the helplessness, the unbearable sorrow of being separated from my child. I know the look of my little boy reaching for me, crying “mommy” and how it felt when I could not rush to him and take him into my arms. I know all this, but I knew where he was going and that he would come back. And I had not fled from any horror to get my child and myself to safety. I spoke the same language as the nurses and the doctors.
Hearts are big at Koinonia. We are not a large group — sometimes we have more interns at the farm than members. Always we have far more visitors. We pray and we serve. We do what we can with the people we have and most of the time there is a peace in that. That peace has been shaken in recent weeks. As we reflect on what Clarence said- “Every little human being in this world is part of God’s set”- we can’t help but wonder if we could be doing more to show people with words and deeds the truth of Clarence’s words … and Jesus’ words. I don’t know for certain what more we can do for the children and their parents were there more communal members at the farm. What I do know is we sure could use a few more people with big hearts to join us, to grow deep roots, to pray, to serve, and to live out their lives loving neighbors with us.
There is much to be done.
By: Lora Browne
The impact has been life long — the lifestyle, all that I learned at Koinonia Farm. Rather than a reflection on all that, I will offer “From each according to his/her ability, to each according to his/her need” continues to guide me. Knowing Jesus was a radical has also been a guiding awareness and sometimes made it hard to reconcile what “Christianity” was in the rest of the world.
Memories from 1949-1963: Alma Jackson and Henry Pope working in the old tractor shed and laughing with Norman Long. Norman building feeders for the pigs and calves and letting me play in the skeleton of them.
There were those mornings standing in line to catch the bus to Thalean School, walking home in the afternoon rather than riding the bus back. I remember summers and all of us in a long line moving irrigation pipes at 5:00 a.m. Before sunrise I got to milk cows with Con Browne, and feed the kittens in the barn. I picked grapes, squash, peaches watermelon and hoed cotton and peanuts in the sun. I worked in the bottom garden and husked corn, and snapped beans under the oak tree by the big kitchen then canned those foods in the summertime.
I rang the bell for meals and meetings. I loved those Saturday night picnics on Picnic Hill in the summertime. Worship service was daily at 5:30 PM. Afterwards, we would take supper home from the main dining room, except Saturday nights when we all ate together (as we always did at noon).
Throwing hay bales onto the koby wagon, then offloading those bales into the hay barn. Gathering eggs, then cleaning, grading and packing them for market. I got my egg grading license at 10 years old, and was so proud of it. I sorted pecans, and packaged them was and I was part of making those first batches of “pecandy.” Yum!
Riding Danny the horse is a happy memory as is summer camp learning about Indians and passing the tests to become a member of the tribe. We put up a thirty-foot teepee. I remember playing volleyball and being shot at bullets flying overhead in the house we lived in (now Wittkamper house). We knew we didn’t talk about it at school. Then the court case where we were told that we were “contaminating the other children because of (our) religious beliefs” and couldn’t attend Americus High School. An ACLU lawyer defended us. We started school nine weeks late having no help to catch up.
Court case with ACLU lawyer about “contaminating the other children because of (our) religious beliefs”. Into Americus High School 9 weeks late, and having to catch up without help. Knowing that Koinonia was a place of much love and support always. And that people within Koinonia acted from their understanding of the New Testament and spoke out for justice and Jesus dedicated to peaceful means of interaction.
I clearly remember the fellowship, the welcoming of people who passed through, whether they were civil rights activists, church people from all over the world, or religious groups (“Children of Light”); Dorothy Day, Bill Kunsler, Charles Sherrod, the Freedom Singers, and many, many more. I remember the day Clarence and Con took Jan and me to the Black Church in Albany because Martin Luther King was speaking there. What a shocking and glorious experience!!
Bible study was at 5:30 a.m. with Clarence and the college students who came during the summer. I remember the arrival of the Wittkampers, the Atkinsons, Nelsons, Johnsons, Eustaces, Campbells, Veldheusens, Mandels, Baers, Dorrells and the beautiful Butler wedding in Wedding Valley.
Fifty-gallon drums of white clover honey came from Forest River, wooden toys and blocks from Rifton Playthings and folks from Evanston folk came to help. And I remember how heart broken I was to leave with my parents in 1963.
KOINONIA FARM. I am very fortunate to have grown up there. It gave me love, and taught me tolerance and justice, as well as set an example for people all over the world. I wouldn’t have traded it for anything.
“All truth, by whomever it is spoken, comes from the Holy Spirit.” — Thomas Aquinas
With no trees decked with ornaments and lights, no sunrise services or eggs hidden for children to scurry to find, Pentecost may be one of the most subdued days in the church’s year. Despite arriving on a violent wind and sending forth tongues of fire giving the disciples a voice that could not be contained, the Spirit is seemingly the quietest member of the Trinity. In scripture, the Father speaks often, and, of course, so does Jesus the Son, but we are hard-pressed to find famous quotes from the Holy Spirit. The Spirit is surprisingly low key … or is that so?
Jesus calls the Spirit the “Paraclete” — “the one who comes to our aid.” Another meaning is “called to be with us.” When the Paraclete descended on the disciples, “All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them” and the church was born [Acts 2:1-6]. And the Spirit continues to come to our aid so both individuals and the body of Christ the church may be born again and again and again. The spiritual life is something to be lived and practiced day in and day out. The spiritual life is work. It is good we have a Paraclete.
The presence of the Spirit is tangible at Koinonia Farm. I struggle to put into words what I mean — I fear that words will make it far less than it is. Many people sense something out of the ordinary when they come here. I know I did. Perhaps it’s because for more than 75 years, the people making this way of life their own have raised the voices of their souls in a constant cry for the Spirit. An invitation has been extended without ceasing. The Holy Spirit is always working, always with us, but yet, in another sense, has to be invited. To be filled with the Spirit, we must make space within us for the Spirit. I am grateful for all those who came before us who made room and extended the invitation. I urge those of us here now to continue calling on the Spirit.
The same Paraclete that is present with us was on Jesus. He broke the good news to the poor, proclaimed freedom for the oppressed, gave sight to the blind, helped those grievously insulted find dignity and ushered in the Lord’s new era. Hearts open, minds open when we open to the Holy Spirit. Truth and good comes if we live a life that says, “Come, Holy Spirit, come.”
A Few Thoughts from Bren
If you heard about, read about or visited Koinonia Farm between 1999 and 2009, you likely know who David and Ellie Castle are and the positive impact they have had on this community. A group of us happily traveled to Cranberry Township, Pennsylvania recently to celebrate Ellie’s 90th birthday. She is as energetic, quick-witted, and inspiring as she has always been. Ten years ago, when we celebrated her 80th birthday, David was still alive and it was hard to imagine Koinonia without them. Later that same year David passed (he is buried on Picnic Hill here) and in 2009, Ellie moved away to be near their children. We miss them.
In agriculture, a demonstration plot is a way to teach or experiment with new farming methods. The Jordans and the Englands used the phrase when describing Koinonia as “a demonstration plot for the Kingdom of God” and “an experiment in Christian living.” It is clear that a demonstration plot must have other demonstration plots from which to learn. David and Ellie were and continue to be just that for us..
From Ellie’s party, we drove to Farmington, Pennsylvania to spend a few days at New Meadow Run Bruderhof Community. Koinonia and the Bruderhof have a history together that began in the 1940s. When Bruderhof members came from Paraguay (via Germany then England; learn their story at www.bruderhof.org) to explore moving to the United States, Koinonia served as a place of welcome and support. When Koinonia suffered persecution in the 50s and 60s, the Bruderhof offered help and refuge. Several of the families fleeing the violence heaped on Koinonia became members of the Bruderhof.
For a period of time — almost twenty years — our communities lost touch, but in 2011 we were reunited. Come to Koinonia today and you will likely see Bruderhof in our midst pitching in to help do whatever is needed. The “doing” for one another is meaningful, but it is the “being” with one another that brings us ever closer together. The relationships deepen through our visits, conversations, questions, cards, letters and we are being shaped and transformed by our mutual encouragement of one another. The Bruderhof is a demonstration plot for Koinonia.
Today so many of us don’t remain in a place and with a people long enough for them to take deep root in us. We all need demonstration plots. My hope for us all is that we find them, spend time with them and allow who they are — and maybe sometimes what they say and do —- to prep our hearts. We all need those who preach the Gospel at all times and, when necessary, use words.
But you, brothers of mine, hold on till the Lord’s movement gets going. Look how the farmer awaits the precious harvest of his land, staying by it until it receives both spring and summer rains. You, too, hold on and prep your hearts, because the Lord’s movement is right here. — The Cotton Patch Gospel, James 5
The Castles and the Bruderhof are our spring and summer rains.
President Carter graciously wrote a letter to be read at the opening of the 2018 Clarence Jordan Symposium:
Rosalynn and I have long admired Clarence and Florence Jordan and the work of Koinonia Farm.
Clarence spoke with an unwavering prophetic voice. He was not one to mince words; the man could turn a phrase. He firmly rejected materialism, militarism, and racism as obstacles to authentic faith, yet he never took part in the public demonstrations of the Civil Rights era. He believed we could all affect greater change in this world through living an authentic Christian life. Koinonia was evidence of that life and still is today.
At Koinonia Farm in 1942, a group of Christians came together for the express purpose of exemplifying the teachings of Jesus. Now, 75 years later, a group of Christians continue to carry on what is perhaps Clarence Jordan’s most enduring legacy, his ongoing invitation to participate in the love and life of Christ.
Welcome to The Clarence Jordan Symposium and this 2018 celebration. Join us as we wish Koinonia Farm a happy 75th birthday. We hope you are grateful for this time to reflect once more on the Jordan’s call to fully live out our part of the gospel story.