A Farmer's Legacy

Dr. Gordon Spronk, a seasoned veterinarian with deep agricultural roots, comes from a family with more than 10 generations of farmers. With a passion for both veterinary medicine and agriculture, he has spent decades contributing to the farming community in both a local and global context. His story has been shaped by both professional endeavors and personal grief, having lost his wife in a car accident several years ago.

In this segment of the “Faithful Stewardship, Abundant Living” series, Dr. Spronk shares his perspective with Jennifer Vermeer on the intersection of faith, farming, and stewardship.

Q: Can you share a little bit about your background?
A: I'm the son of Alma and Henry J. Spronk. My father was a farmer, his father was a farmer, and his father before him was a farmer. They immigrated from northern Europe around the turn of the century. I’ve taken my family to the house and farm where my ancestors immigrated from and met distant cousins, tracing back nearly 16 generations of farming. From my father, I learned the love of agriculture. From my mother, I learned the love of academics and lifelong learning.

My mother grew up in an era that when she had graduated from 8th grade and was going to get on the bus to go to high school, her father said, “You know, Alma, you should stay home.” Because at that time in agriculture, labor was needed, whether they were male or female. That ended my mother's formal education and from that disappointment, she fed her passion for academic study through encouraging and supporting her five children as they received not only a high school education but post high school education as well.

Growing up, I was encouraged not to return to the farm, so I pursued an advanced degree in veterinary medicine. After graduation, I returned to practice in southwest Minnesota, where my wife and I raised our children. I served as an owner and partner in Pipestone Holdings for over 40 years and recently retired from the Board of Directors. I remain on staff at Pipestone and split my time between the Midwest and Arizona. I also serve on several boards at the local, state and national level, currently serving on the board and as an officer of the National Pork Board and have previously served on the board of directors of the National Pork Producers Council.

Q: How has your family’s history of farming influenced your approach to agriculture?
A: A family legacy is generational and spiritual. Today, our culture has concerns about sustainability and regenerative farming. There are many levels of sustainability including the soil, air and environment. We must start at the beginning however and agree that for a farm to be sustainable, it must be profitable so the next generation can continue operating. My family’s history in farming has taught me that balancing profit with care for the land and animals is key to long-term success. Some may refer to that as sustainable, I would prefer to say that is simply good stewardship of all our assets.

Profitability shouldn’t be something we shy away from—it’s part of being a good steward. It is essential for a farmer to successfully continue providing goods and services, a crucial part of any economic system. I need to make a profit; otherwise, I can’t keep the business going, and that’s not sustainable. It’s good stewardship to provide goods and services at a price point that people will buy my goods and services, allowing me to continue in my calling and the vital work of agriculture.

Looking back, it’s clear that our ancestors did the best with the resources and knowledge available to them. My grandfather, for example, focused on increasing productivity by getting bigger or more horses to handle the work. Today we have advanced well beyond horsepower to produce more with less. As an example, precise seed placement measured by depth and distance between seeds, something my grandfather knew was important but did not have the knowledge or tools to implement. While we have more efficient tools today, the principle of always striving to improve, adapt, and be responsible remains unchanged.

Q: Along those lines, how do you view the intersection of technology and agriculture?
A: Regenerative farming has been around for generations, even long before it had a name. For example, my father never heard of a life cycle analysis, but it’s been part of farming for generations. We raise corn and beans, feed them both as an energy and protein source to our pigs, which generates dense protein for human food and manure for fertilizer. The food meets the human need for nutrition, and the manure meets the need for a perfect fertilizer for the soil and crops.

Sustainability and life cycle analysis have always been a part of agriculture, but new technology allows us to maximize efficiency and work toward those things in a different way. At the simplest level, we are being called to measure better, use fewer resources, and protect key assets for future generations to use. That could mean improving feed conversion rates, managing manure as fertilizer, and using data for better crop and livestock management. Regenerative practices, like using manure for fertilizer, have always been part of farming, but technology has enhanced our ability to do them more effectively, increasing yields and reducing waste. Today we use less of everything (water, soil, energy) yet we produce more. That is good stewardship.

The highest measures of stewardship are profitability, productivity and generational repeatability—my father raised 80 bushels of corn per acre; on that same land we now aim for over 200. We've also increased pig production from 12 pigs per sow per year to 35. We have also reduced the amount of feed to raise pork—today, we only need 2 pounds of feed per pound of pork produced, compared to nearly 5 pounds when my father farmed.

From a spiritual standpoint, we're told in Psalm 8 that we’ve been given dominion. However, I prefer to think of it as responsibility. I’m able to respond to whatever I’ve been given care of and stewardship of. Part of being good stewards is that we are called to produce more with less, and that’s what we’ve aimed to do for generations—and technology allows us to continue application of knowledge to do more with less and to accurately measure the impact of that application.

Q: What other lessons can agriculture offer Christians in all walks of life?

A: I can give you three. First, ruthlessly eliminate hurry. In agriculture, nothing happens in a hurry, but it happens on time. When spring comes, it’s time to put the seed in the ground, but you can't hurry up the seed. When fall comes, it's time to harvest, but you can’t hurry up the harvest—harvesting too soon can prevent the crop from reaching its potential.

Second, relentlessly ask questions. Be a lifelong student, constantly seeking truth and wisdom and striving to improve.

Finally, ruthlessly seek eternity. Agriculture provides a lens for understanding life’s deeper meanings, even though we no longer live in an agrarian society. The Bible is full of agricultural metaphors of dominion and flourishing, pointing us to deeper spiritual truths.

In Psalm 8, we’re told we have dominion over the birds of the air, the fish of the sea, and the sheep. We might not own fish or birds, but we are responsible for what we care for here on earth, in our kingdom—whether it’s our electricity, our gifts, our time. By demonstrating care and responsibility in our work and lives today, we contribute to His ongoing, redemptive work.

Another example is Habakkuk 3, which paints a picture of devastation: “Though the fig tree does not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive tree fails and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls…” This kind of imagery speaks to total loss and hunger—nothing to harvest, no animals to tend to. And yet, in the face of that, the prophet says, “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation” (Habakkuk 3:17-18). That’s a powerful lesson.

It’s a choice to rejoice and trust in God even when everything else seems to fail. Similarly, a good agriculturalist doesn’t just grieve over a crop failure or the loss of livestock; they seek to understand what happened. What went wrong? Why did the plants not grow? Why did the animals die? What can be learned for the next season? In the same way, in times of grief or loss, we are called to contemplate how God is working, even in devastation and grief. I can’t control a crop failure, and I can’t control loss, like the death of a loved one. But we grieve differently than the rest of the world; we grieve with hope, knowing that there is more than just this life. Our hope is in the reality of eternity, and that hope will never disappoint. The psalmist says we walk a path of righteousness for our Creator’s honor and glory, calling us to join him on a path of faithful stewardship and abundant living.

A faithful life is about honoring God, including how we steward our time, resources, and relationships, recognizing that everything we manage and how we do so is a reflection of how we honor God and contribute to His greater purposes.