Sharing in creation

Pastor deepens roots of family and faith by planting gardens and raising chickens

Father Michael O’Mara celebrates the first tomato of the season from his small garden near the rectory of St. Mary Parish in Indianapolis. The pastor believes his garden serves as a bridge to help him connect even more with parishioners. (Photo by John Shaughnessy) Click for a larger version.

By John Shaughnessy

The stories about the pastor, the chickens and the egg that cost $900 will come later.

So will Father Michael O’Mara’s insights about how he uses the chickens to make a connection with many of his parishioners at St. Mary Parish in Indianapolis.

But for now, concerning the question of which should come first—Father O’Mara’s stories about his chickens or his stories about his gardens—it seems more fitting to start with the stories about his gardens.

Those stories show the roots of his family, his faith and his relationship with God.

When Father O’Mara digs into the soil of a small field in Franklin County where he grows pumpkins, the memories of his childhood and his mother’s love come to life again.

When he sinks his teeth into a homegrown strawberry—and the juice flows onto his fingertips—he remembers the gardens that were nurtured long ago by his relatives along the Ohio River in southern Indiana.

And when he walks through the courtyard next to St. Mary Church, he smiles at all the roses in bloom, recalling how an area once blighted by weeds and broken sidewalks was transformed by hundreds of people into a grotto honoring Our Lady of Guadalupe.

In all those moments—even in the concrete confines of downtown Indianapolis—Father O’Mara harvests an abundance of family, faith and community. He also finds another deeply rooted gift there—the presence of God.

Where mysteries are revealed

“Gardening gets me in touch with the Earth,” Father O’Mara notes. “It is a dependence on God. There has to be good soil or you have to work with it to make it good. The right rain. The right sun. Things have to be timed to work with nature rather than work around nature. Gardening is hard work. It is tough on the back. And best of all, it gets you dirty, sweaty and smelly.”

Father O’Mara likes to say that the garden is “the place where mysteries are revealed,” but there is no mystery about where his love of gardening began.

“Many of my mom’s relatives were serious gardeners,” he says. “They hailed from Switzerland County on the Ohio River. I can remember the taste of homegrown green beans, corn on the cob and strawberries.”

He also remembers starting his first garden behind the garage of his family’s home. He sent away for Burpee seeds to grow beans and tomatoes, viewing it as a way to contribute to his family. It also gave him a deeper understanding of a mother’s love. Even though his mother had grown up in a family of gardeners who liked to can vegetables, she preferred to get them from the grocery store. But she made an exception for her son.

“She had to get a pressure cooker and can all of those vegetables that her son was bringing home,” Father O’Mara recalls. “No doubt, she did the canning because she loved her son.”

Later, he relocated his garden to his grandfather’s land, adding potatoes, sweet corn and pumpkins until he entered the seminary in 1981. Still, his love of gardens never left him, and he started one when he became pastor of St. Mary Parish in 1998.

“There is something awesome about taking out your shovel, rake or tiller and turning over the soil,” he says. “Seeing the richness of it, running your hand through it. I know my small garden of a few tomato and jalapeno plants is not going to feed the world, but it keeps me in touch with what it takes to grow food. And in some small way, it gives me a sense of pride and independence.

“If necessary, I could grow my own food. For now, just a little corner around the electrical boxes of the parish and a little field in Franklin County for pumpkins are OK for me. I’ve also planted about 100 sapling trees in the past couple of years. It satisfies my need to be a steward of the land.”

To Father O’Mara, those efforts are all part of following this piece of wisdom from Blessed John Paul II: “The most profound motive for our work is this—knowing that we share in creation. Learning the meaning of creation in our daily lives will help us to live holier lives.”

Father O’Mara has even found holiness in raising chickens.

The $900 egg and the unusual bridge

Father O’Mara’s efforts to raise chickens are part enterprise, part comedy, part spirituality and all adventure.

“A parishioner got me started on this venture about two years ago,” Father O’Mara says as he walks into a fenced area on the side of the rectory where a chicken house is a home for 15 chickens. “She was bringing me fresh eggs once in a while. I went over to see her operation and said, ‘I want to do that.’ ”

The visit took him back to his childhood again, back to the days when his father worked in the chicken business and he often crawled under the roost to get the chickens. Father O’Mara bought his first chickens in early March of 2011.

“Still too cold for them to be outside, I raised them in the basement of the rectory,” he recalls. “It smelled like a farm throughout the entire house. During this same time, we had the [parish] offices in the rectory because we were renovating our office building at St. Mary’s. But I was going to have chickens, no matter what.”

Six months later, he discovered the first egg in the chicken run.

“I brought it in the house, washed it, got out my skillet, sprayed some PAM in it, fried it and ate it. The best egg I had ever eaten,” he says. “And it had only cost about $900, counting up all of the costs involved in raising them.”

He laughs at that memory and smiles when he shares that he now sells about five dozen eggs a week.

Raising the chickens “has provided me with hours of pleasure, some good exercise, organic food and, most importantly, moments of awe in the wonders of nature,” he notes.

The chickens and the garden have also given him a different way to connect with the nearly 900 families in the parish, many of whom are Hispanic.

“Having my garden and my chickens unites me with my parishioners,” says Father O’Mara, whose fluency in Spanish allows him to celebrate Masses in both English and Spanish. “It is hard for a lot of people to relate to a priest, but a priest with a hoe in his hand or a chicken in his hand levels out the playing field just a bit. It’s not like I depend on that garden or my chickens for my livelihood, but it’s a bridge.

“Many of the parents in my parish come from rural areas of Latin America. They remember the chickens in their back yards. Their kids are city kids—they don’t. On the weekends, I have a lot of kids and teens who like to visit my chickens. They like to feed them with their hands. During Holy Week, we had several teens come over and help us plant flowers, plants and trees around the parish.”

The humility and personal outreach of Father O’Mara connects with people, says Juan Silva, a member of the parish.

“A lot of parishioners don’t speak English, and he makes them feel exceptionally welcome by speaking to them in Spanish,” says Silva, who volunteers his gardening and photography skills to the parish.

“For the Latino parishioners, they identify with him having his chicken coop and his small garden. That’s what it was like for a lot of us who left our families back in Mexico. It’s smart of him to do this. He’s truly a good, good man. We think the world of him.”

A growing spirit

That connection with his parishioners is at the heart of two of Father O’Mara’s favorite stories.

The first one involves the tremendous effort at the parish in creating a grotto that honors Our Lady of Guadalupe.

For years, there was a space between the church and the rectory that was marked by weeds, broken sidewalks and two large Blue Spruce trees, including one that had been uprooted in a storm.

“We got the idea to make it a garden,” Father O’Mara recalls. “The project was done by both parishioners and professionals, with literally hundreds of people involved in the grotto—planting, creating a fountain and placing the statue. It is now a place of prayer and contemplation.”

The second story shows the spirit that has grown within the inner-city parish.

“One time, a doctor in the parish was commenting about his volunteer effort [as a landscaper] in the parish to some other people,” Father O’Mara says. “One of them said, ‘Your skills should be used for other things. That’s a waste for you to be doing manual labor.’ He responded, ‘That’s not how our parish works. At the parish, we are all equal.’

“As he told me that story, I thought, Yes. The doctor works beside the landscaper. The one who dines at a fine restaurant works beside the one who washes his plates. The one who buys the groceries works beside the one who works in the field.”

And all are led by the pastor who plants tomatoes, grows pumpkins and raises chickens.

“We are one body,” Father O’Mara says, “each one sharing his or her gifts.” †

 

Related story: Sister’s love of gardens nurtures her life of faith