Alum’s Vermont farm bridges faith and climate action

Deep in the heart of central Vermont is a dynamic, regenerative farm called Heartberry Hollow. It’s home to chickens, pigs, and a beloved dairy cow named Mocha. About a quarter of an acre is dedicated to crops like corn, squash, blueberries, and other fruits and vegetables depending on the year. But this special piece of land is more than a farm. It’s also a gathering place for conversation, prayer, and reflection about climate justice and our relationship to what farmer and Episcopal Priest Rachel Field ‘16 M.Div. calls “the more-than-human world.” 

One of Field’s programs, called An Episcopal Path to Creation Justice, offers community and support to churches seeking to deepen their commitment to addressing the climate emergency. What started as a pilot program in 2023 has since grown to include every Episcopal diocese in New England, and now serves as a national and international model for equipping and engaging churches in meaningful and direct climate action.

Pasture, prayer, and the path to YDS

Field grew up on a suburban cul-de-sac outside Philadelphia, raised by parents active in their Episcopal church and intentional about giving their children time in nature. One end of the street bordered an old dairy farm, where Field wandered the pastures and found comfort in the quiet presence of the cows. The other end opened onto a wild 20-acre meadow. These early moments fostered her lifelong fascination with the natural world, which she describes as having “sung a love song into me that I’ve been wanting to sing back to the world for the rest of my life.”

It’s no surprise, then, that Field began her career as a field ecologist. “It was great, but my favorite part was seeing the wonder in children’s faces when they interacted with the more-than-human world up close,” she says. At the same time, her involvement with the Church deepened, and she began to see it not only as a way to mobilize people for climate action, but as a transformational engine for how Americans relate to land and animals.

Seeking to blend the two, she began exploring divinity schools. Yale was the only option she considered, thanks to its dual-degree opportunity in the schools of Divinity and Forestry (now the School of the Environment). “After a semester, I realized I didn’t need the level of applied skills the Forestry School offered,” she says, though she stayed committed to her mission, taking courses like Silviculture to fulfill her M.Div. language requirement. “I made a case to the registrar that it was the language of the trees,” says Field, who completed the program in Anglican Studies at Berkeley Divinity School during her time at YDS. “It wasn’t a Biblical language, but was certainly a language rooted in our relationship with God.” 

Farm and community

Shortly after graduation, Field felt the itch to form a unique farm community, one that was both agriculturally productive and a conduit for deepening and healing the community’s relationship with the earth. She set her sights on Vermont, and ultimately purchased land in Randolph.

This spawned a very intentional meditation on what it means to own land in the U.S., which Field admits is “an act of participation in the continual colonization of Indigenous people.” To honor this reality, Field dedicates 10 percent of her farm to Indigenous partnership, and is participating in a seed-sharing program between the Northeast Organic Farming Association of Vermont and the Nulhegan Band of the Coosuk Abenaki Nation to support food sovereignty. “Access to land and food for Indigenous cultures is so important, not just for their continued existence and thriving, but also for physical and cultural healing,” Field says. “I couldn’t engage in the purchase of land without engaging in some kind of food sovereignty for Indigenous people.” 

Field’s farm is also home to several community programs. She often welcomes Episcopal youth groups to learn about regenerative agriculture and help care for the animals. “Alongside that practical learning, there’s time for theological reflection,” Field says. “We explore our relationship with the more-than-human world and how we encounter God in that.” She also invites young LGBTQ members of the local rural community to come together to share and reflect on their experiences working the land and building community. 

Episcopal outreach

For the past three years, Field has coordinated the Episcopal Path to Creation Justice, a program designed to encourage and support parish work pertaining to environmental justice. “I work with non-ordained leaders in different Episcopal parishes all over New England who are passionate about climate justice and looking for support,” she says. She trains these leaders—called Companions—in non-directive coaching and anti-racist organizing. Each August, parishes sign up to be paired with a Companion who, using guided conversation topics, helps them articulate a vision and plan that touches every part of parish life, from prayer to climate advocacy in the wider community. The program currently includes 12 trained Companions—laypeople in the Episcopal Church with a passion for climate change—and eight parishes in Province I. In the past three years, over 30 New England parishes have participated.

The process generally begins with a review of parish life: who lives in the community, which ministries matter most, and what assets they already have. Companions then help parishes set goals and introduce them to resources needed to achieve them. “We end this phase in May by welcoming parishes into the movement and connecting them with neighbors and organizations already doing this work so they can join in and make it their own,” Field says. “We don’t want our parishes to do this alone and risk burnout.”

Success looks different in every parish. One community in Kennebunk, Maine, completely new to this work, set a goal simply to form a group, meet regularly, and begin crafting a shared vision. “To me, that’s a huge success,” Field says. On the other end of the spectrum are parishes with advanced environmental efforts—green buildings, solar arrays, pollinator gardens, biodiversity commitments, and even zero emissions. “These parishes may want to create a contemplative engagement program to listen to the more-than-human world, incorporate creatures into their liturgy, or host worship services featuring songs and poetry related to the more-than-human world,” Field says. “That’s a huge success, too.”

This year, the farm is on sabbatical with fewer animals and limited community activity. “It’s a scriptural practice from the Old Testament, where both humans and land were given sabbath,” Field says. “This is the land’s opportunity to worship God in its own ways, without being asked to provide for humans.” 

Field plans to observe a sabbath year every seven years, shifting her focus from productivity and goal-making to rest, prayer, reflection, and healing. “This is a vision-heavy year for the farm, and I don’t know what the next seven years will look like yet,” she says. “Our tagline is ‘Rooted in Land, Growing in Love,’ so whatever comes next will reflect that. But the land and I, we’re going to talk, and stay open to what develops.”

Melissa Kvidahl Reilly is a New Jersey-based writer and editor who specializes in higher education, religious education, and business-to-business subjects.