What is a church, after all, but a congregation of people with a shared belief-system or set of values, a place to take refuge, to find meaning, to find help, food, shelter, to whisper prayers and devote oneself to service, reverence and a thankful, prayerful existence Well, if that be so, then my experience of Glasbren, and the diverse community of practice that has grown around it, leads me to believe farms, community- supported farms, certainly can be something like church.

Glasbren, the Welsh language word for 'sapling', started life in 2019, just nine miles from where we are now, as a 3-acre, permaculture-designed market garden, of on-contour, permanent no-dig beds, small-scale agroforestry and a packing shed and community shed built of local timber. We grew very much from the grassroots and, for six years, we've fed local people in southwest Carmarthenshire through our community-supported-agriculture (CSA) veg box scheme, welcomed volunteers, planted thousands of trees, taught about food growing, plant medicine and sustainable living, and shared nature connection practices, seasonal celebrations and feasts.

Unless stated © Jason Elberts, A Great Alternative

In 2023, we stepped into an exciting new chapter, being selected as the new long term tenants of 134- acres of National Trust land, with a clear mandate: to increase biodiversity; to honour the spirit of the place, its significance to local history and a farm that means so much to so many; and to expand the work we'd been doing in the local area for nature, people and planet. We had a vision for a highly diversified, people facing farm, a whole-farm design that includes agroecological vegetable production, ponds and agroforestry, ecotourism and immersive courses, workshops and seasonal events, a Little Stewards programme for children and many accessible pathways for our community, our congregation, to get involved and feel a part of the farm.

Months before our Maypole celebrations and in the early days of our time here, faces emerge from the fog in the dead of winter, drenched to a shine by the rain, but smiling, with the satisfaction of having been a part of planting a community orchard - 30 people planting 60 apple and pear trees in just a couple of hours. It's a day of service to something bigger than ourselves, that will outlast ourselves and it is joyous, despite the weather.

What greater act of service than to plant a tree?

To me, it's church.

What I found so exciting in permaculture all those years ago was the possibility of expanding the circle beyond my own needs and my own life, to build something that could be in service to the whole community, to be 'used for a purpose that you identify to be a mighty one', as George Bernard Shaw calls us to do. In uncertain and fearful times, at times of converging crises, finding purpose and some way to be of service feels vital to our wellbeing, our survival. This, in our experience, is one of the main reasons people find their way to volunteer days, workshops or our veg box scheme. We need that. And we need to do it together.

That, to me, is church.

Whilst I don't mean to align with any religious house, denomination or faith, I do propose farms as places that, as a collective, a congregation, we might commune with the sacred, the great mystery, wonder and awe for the living world that supports our lives. What is farming if not a faithful, prayerful act? We fall on our knees, seeds clutched in our hand, offer them to the soil with the faith that rain will fall and the sun will shine. We surrender to the unpredictable seasons, the weather and the great mystery of it all. It is devotional. That's reflected in the reverent traditions of traditional and Indigenous farming peoples throughout the world.

This autumn, we'll meet as a community to celebrate the harvest, make offerings in our own way in thankfulness for what the land has provided. Food and producing food can be an exciting and adventurous pathway into a deeper relationship with the living world, its awe and wonder, and nothing shows us that more than this harvest time, as hedgerows and woodland heave with the weight of food just as much as the fields and gardens. Over time and through the tumble of seasonal cycles, we'll shape rituals and ceremonies that can honour that in a way that is true, rooted in this land and reflective of the people who congregate - seasonal feasts celebrating the old foodways, the poetry and songs of Wales, the lifeways bound to the wild and cultivated foods that grow here.

That, to me, is church.