“Siembra,” Mark 4:3-8, #Markseries, @thetable
By Arlene Markowski
My mother, Ydalba, was a farmer, born in Mérida, Venezuela. This terraced plateau of the Andes Mountains birthed my mother to María, who was conceived by Flor, all peasant farmers. This matriarchal lineage of experiential knowledge taught me that the right conditions for a bountiful harvest depend not only on sun, soil, and rain, but on human craft and care to properly distribute the seed. This is the act of siembra, or sowing seed. Framed by the Markan gospel’s Parable of the Sower in Mark 4:3-8, I explore the distribution of La Sembradora, the Latina farmer. She sows mujerista and mestiza (Latina and hybrid) seeds of spiritual wisdom along various paths for the purpose of identifying a new adaptive ecclesiology that speaks to issues being faced by the Western Church in light of a historic wave of migrants from the Global South. As La Sembradora scatters her seeds, there are four landing spaces we will explore: Junto Al Camino (beside the path), Las Piedras (the rocks), Las Espinas (the thorns), and La Buena Tierra (good land). The first soil for scattered seeds is παρὰ τὴν ὁδόν (Mark 4:4), from the side. The Spanish renders the phrase junto al camino, next to the road. Latina theology likewise lands on the margins, fighting to exist from the side. Gloria Anzaldúa describes “[t]he new mestiza [which] copes by developing a tolerance for contradictions … She learns to be an Indian in Mexican culture, to be Mexican from an Anglo point of view. She learns to juggle cultures.” This plurality of personality, often pushed off the path, provides an alternative perspective to the monolithic malestream gaze of the Global North.
The second soil for La Sembradora’s seed is πετρῶδες, or stony ground (Mark 4:5). The Spanish reads entre las piedras, donde no había mucha tierra, or between the stones where there was little soil. With narrow space, seeds must break through to take root among the cragged earth. While a noble effort, it ends tragically as raíces, or roots, are scorched by the rising sun. When races are denied roots in a cultural landscape, growth is impossible. Through the lens of La Sembradora, a subaltern space between the rocks is conceived. Mujerista theology conjoins theory and praxis by doing theology “as a communal process,” thereby generating strength in numbers. In the academy, a publishing house like Orbis Books provides a safe haven for theological voices en masse from the Global South, helping repair damage done to the raíces.
The third batch of seeds land among ἀκάνθας, or thorns. Las espinas, or brambles, engulf the germinating seeds, which cause συνέπνιξαν, or suffocation. Due to the ongoing Venezuelan Diaspora, millions of migrants are forced to uproot and rebuild their lives in surrounding countries. Venezuela has lost close to 8 million citizens to migration, “the largest displacement crisis ever recorded in the Western Hemisphere.” The thorns of violent disenfranchisement choke these migrating seeds, threatening the promise of progeny. La Sembradora searches for open air to respira, breathe. For the Latina, Jacqueline Hidalgo describes, “[h]ome is a complex metaphor generating affective resonances with care, kinship, patriarchy, violence, belonging, exile, and displacement.” Equipped with a mestiza mindset of adaptation amidst the thorns, the work of siembra fights forward.
La buena tierra, rich soil, of Mark 4:8, is nutrient-dense for a healthy yield. La Sembradora explores the correlative relationship between seed and soil. When the receiving land is fertile, the seed grows. When the receiving land is unfit, it dies along with the raiz/raza (root/race) embedded in its genetics. These migrant seeds hold indigenous wisdom and healing deep within their DNA. The offerings of the migrant outweigh the resources they require. A Latina Immigration Ecclesiology challenges the Western Church to actively graft in the unique qualities immigrants carry in an effort to create dynamic, hybrid communities.
Panamanian singer-songwriter Rubén Blades and Puerto Rican trombonist Willie Colón released the album Siembra in 1978. These legendary salseros were already planting the prophetic seeds of inclusion and mestiza solidarity almost fifty years ago. Their earth-toned album cover artwork imagines children of various phenotypes and indistinguishable genders in peaceful harmony. An English translation from the closing lyrics read, “The seeds are children…but you must give them an example…sowing humility, and give fruits of hope to those who are arriving behind you.”
As I write this, I am plagued with the fear that my words still make no sense. Gloria Anzaldúa gives words to my thoughts: “Who gave us the permission to perform the act of writing? Why does writing seem so unnatural for me? I’ll do anything to postpone it—empty the trash, answer the telephone.” Las Sembradoras like Anzaldúa, Hildago, and Isasi-Diaz persuade me to keep writing and that my story matters. These Latina pioneers help to animate the actions of siembra, giving voice to the hands that scatter the seed and directing the feet of those following behind in anticipation of a hope-filled harvest.
Arlene Markowski (she/her) is a Latina, second-generation American, religious scholar, wife, mother, and Christian minister based in New York City. She graduated from the University of Southern California with a Bachelor of Arts in American Literature and from the General Theological Seminary with a Master of Arts in Biblical Studies.