Blue Skies Smiling at Me

New Delhi, Before and After the Shutdown

Blue skies

Smiling at me
Nothing but blue skies
Do I see

Bluebirds
Singing a song
Nothing but bluebirds
All day long

Never saw the sun shining so bright
Never saw things going so right
Noticing the days hurrying by
When you're in love, my how they fly

Blue days
All of them gone
Nothing but blue skies
From now on

There are lots of versions of this song, and you might start with Ella Fitzgerald. move on to Willie Nelson and finish up with Canadian Diana Krall. I might have chosen scripture as the lead in to this blog but I can't recall a single reference to a clear blue sky in either the Hebrew Scriptures or the New Testament. Please enlighten us all if you know of one. There are several references to the dome of the sky in the first chapter of Genesis and the Creation story.

Here's a startling reality of the global shutdown which is a result of COVID-19, a plague of almost biblical proportions. The sky is bluer and clearer than it's been in years, in some places decades, the way God intended it to be, we might suggest. There are lots of before and after photos from Asian countries and the Indian subcontinent showing a stark contrast. In some cities in India the air quality can register 25 times what is considered safe but within days of the mandatory quarantine there levels have dropped below the safe baseline. A city that hasn't seen the Himalayan peaks in 30 years can now seem them clearly. 

The irony is that because billions of people bustled about in vehicles and factories churned away the sky was seldom clear and air quality was poor enough to kill those with compromised lungs. We're told that polluted air probably results in coronavirus sufferers getting sicker and even more likely to die. Now the air is breathable in a lot of places and the sky is blue, but these same people are expected to stay inside where they aren't able to enjoy it.

I' may be just "blue-skying" here, but what if we learned from all this and worked toward a better way of living on the planet? Do you think the Creator would approve? 

Here's Ella:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nB-xqDZbEVQ

                                 Werner's Nomenclature of Colours

Easter, Unplugged & Outside

 

Bay of Quinte, early Easter morning -- photo Ruth Mundy

God of resurrection,

you have rolled the stone away

and the tomb of our world has been opened wide.

With the dawn has come a new creation.

Let our celebration today

empty our tombs,

renew our lives,

and release your power;

through the risen Christ we pray. Amen.

                                          Voices United 174

Through the decades Easter Sunrise services did not appeal to me, at all. In the earlier years I was presiding at services for several congregations. I was also pastor of congregations where we had more than one service on Easter morning, not to mention Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and even Holy Saturday gathering during Holy Week. I love the outdoors, but why would I want to freeze by a lake in the cold of March or April. 

So, what did Ruth and I do early this morning? Down to the Bay of Quinte we ventured, with a bible and fixin's for communion. We walked through the decayed remnants of an industrial area and out to a point where we could witness the dawn. And despite the forecast the rain held off and there was a sunrise. It was mild and virtually windless and we found a sheltered spot where the waves lapped against the rocks. Ruth read a prayer and we also prayed for our family and others. 

                                            Home Communion set used through four decades of ministry

I read the resurrection story from Mark rather than the beloved passage of Mary's encounter with Jesus from John's gospel. Mark was almost certainly the first of the gospels and scholars tend to agree that the earliest versions declared the empty tomb and resurrection promise but ended with an admission of terror and fear. This is such an honest report of how Jesus' followers responded to what was Good News. 

This seemed to be more appropriate on an Easter when we're all wondering what will come next in the face of a pandemic which has dumped our assumptions about what is normal in the world on their keesters. In our circle of friends and family there is anxiety and fear and, yes, terror. These aren't wimps, and many are Christians but what we are experiencing is unprecedented. 

Our time by the water was a declaration of hope, even though there was an element of whistling in the dark. It was more singing in the dawn, actually. The choir was the birds of the air, and we saw a kingfisher, a blue heron, our first swallows of the Spring. A swan took off nearby and we could hear the sound of wind through its wings. 

Before we left the house we sang some Easter hymns with an awareness that so many favourites have rather triumphalist and even militaristic theology. And then there is "Welcome Happy Morning" which claims that "hell today is vanquished, heaven is won today."

It struck me that so many have been experiencing hell on earth, but there will be more to the story, God willing. Whatever these next weeks bring we want to live with hope, both with and beyond fear, trusting that Christ is with us. 

Christ is Risen!

Is Nature Smiting Us with a Virus?

Pope Francis presides over a moment of prayer on the sagrato of St Peters Basilica on March 27.

 We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in[o] hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes[p] for what is seen? 25 But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

Romans 8:22-25

Religion brings out the worst and best of people in a time of crisis. Christian congregations and agencies are doing their best to support the most vulnerable during this COVID-19 pandemic. Millions of Christians have stayed home during the holiest time of the year, choosing not to gather for worship to "flatten the curve" of the spread of the deadly virus. Of course there are the nutbars of every religion who insist that it is their right to come together, regardless of the threat. Some claim that they are protected by the blood of Jesus from this plague. I wonder if they have doctors or if they look down on those who've received chemotherapy when they develop cancer?

It shouldn't surprise us that some are claiming that this is God's judgement on the world or on their particular nation. So, why would the Creator smite the vulnerable elderly, who are often the most religious people in our societies, and the selfless healthcare workers who are caring for them? A TV preacher has offered goofy exorcisms of the virus, as though it could be banished by his histrionic prayers. It's bizarre.

During this past week Pope Francis mused in an email interview with The Tablet and Commonwealth magazines, that this pandemic may be one of "nature's responses" to humans ignoring the current ecological crisis.He also said  the outbreak offered an opportunity to slow down the rate of production and consumption and to learn to understand and contemplate the natural world.

While I appreciate that Francis is attempting to bring a perspective on all in this in the context of the climate crisis it feels dangerously close to personifying nature as a force which metes out punishment akin to an angry God or a malevolent Satan. I suppose we're all trying to make sense of this invisible enemy.

We are told that in areas where peoples' lungs are compromised by air pollution there is a much higher risk of dying from this respiratory illness. We have also come to take for granted travel around the globe, and we know that this has allowed the virus to spread rapidly. 

I do agree with the pontiff that this is an opportunity to reconsider how we define the "good life". Can we appreciate that the global disruption of how we do business and provide healthcare and govern ourselves in this crisis may be a foretaste of something much more catastrophic if we ignore the "signs of the times" of the ecological emergency? 

Fish and Good Friday

While shaving before not heading out to church this Good Friday morning I heard an interview on CBC Radio with the cheerful owner of one of the outlets of Ches's Famous Fish and Chips in St. John's Newfoundland. I enjoyed fish and chips at the original location, decades ago. Usually on Good Friday they feed the five thousand, or at least a multitude of people for whom this is an essential aspect of the day, whether they are observant Christians or not. Because of COVID-19 it is phone orders and take-away only, and their busiest day of the year will be down by 90%. 



photo: Stan Collins 

It is has been a long-standing practice of Roman Catholics to abstain or fast from red meat on all Fridays, with fish as a substitute. Pope Paul VI loosened the rules in the 1960's so this tradition is no longer observed in the way it once was. In earlier centuries herring was the fish of choice because it was easily preserved but it was replaced by cod as the favourite because it was abundant and readily salted for transport by European fleets fishing off the coast of Newfoundland and Labrador.

There is still a custom in some Newfoundland communities to offer free fish for the taker on Good Friday, a lovely act of generosity. When we were on Change Islands, Newfoundland, last September it was a big deal that the fish plant was open to process cod for even a brief time. 

The reason I'm writing about this in my Groundling blog is because of fish, and its increasing scarcity around the world. Cod was once considered inexhaustible but the collapse of the Newfoundland stocks due to over-fishing made it a rare treat. During the pandemic the demand for fish has dropped dramatically, which is hard on those who fish for a living. Will it mean a resurgence in some species because they are allowed to rebound? Who knows. 

 Now we probably all have a hankering for fish and chips, but where to find it?...

The Birds of the Air on Maundy Thursday

7 “But ask the animals, and they will teach you;
    the birds of the air, and they will tell you;
8 ask the plants of the earth,[a] and they will teach you;
    and the fish of the sea will declare to you.
9 Who among all these does not know
    that the hand of the Lord has done this?
10 In his hand is the life of every living thing
    and the breath of every human being.

Job 12:7-10 (NRSV)

We have been finding solace in nature during these ominous days of the COVID-19 pandemic. In the midst of what amounts to a plague we have stayed away from everyone, including our beloved children and grandchildren.

Of course, this means we haven't been attending worship services (most churches/synagogues/mosques/temples are closed anyway.) Holy Week has become a virtual experience and while there may be online "gatherings" there is a sense of unprecedented displacement.

Early this morning I was pondering the gentle power of Maundy Thursday, a service which was always the most lightly attended of Palm Sunday, Thursday, Good Friday, with the crescendo of Easter morning. I found it deeply meaningful as a pastor with its theme of humble service and abiding love. We always washed the feet of a few during the service as a reminder that Jesus washed the feet of his followers at their final meal together. 

As I looked out the window to our feeders I saw the male and female cardinals of our backyard arrive. The male fed the female, which is part of their mating ritual. While we shouldn't anthropomorphize what other creatures do, it was an act of selflessness which I found quite touching.

I always want to learn from the birds of the air and the creatures around us. The Creator brought them into being as part of the rich tapestry of our planet, so why not look to them for inspiration. These two were gifts to this Groundling on a day when Maundy Thursday reflection must take a different shape. I'm grateful to them, and to God. 

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, 
what you will eat or what you will drink,
 or about your body, what you will wear. I
s not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 

26 Look at the birds of the air; 
they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns,
 and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. 
Are you not of more value than they? 
27 And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?

Matthew 6:25-27 (NRSV)

The Lord God Bird and Creation Gratitude

                              Pileated Woodpecker in flight

In the midst of self-isolation, with only occasional forays for groceries, we are giving thanks for our health, the health of our family, and the security of our home. We haven't started swinging cats yet, but if we were so inclined we would have plenty of room to do so, both inside our house and in our expansive yard.

Last evening I was "down" just the same. There was an a red alert on my weather app from the Ontario government which seemed to direct me to stay home except for those groceries and other essentials. Did this mean we were prohibited from heading out for walks, and cycles, and paddles? When we do go out we choose times when we are less likely to encounter others and we ensure the two metre/six feet distance.

Yesterday we drove to the Salmon River, north of Napanee, and spent two hours in splendid isolation, at least from humans. The water was as calm as we've ever experienced on this stretch and there were virtually no human-made sounds. We actually paid closer attention to the surface of the water than the trees lining the river because of the reflections. 

While many creatures haven't returned or awakened yet the robins and red-winged blackbirds were in full voice. We saw and heard our first kingfisher of the season, as well as a Pileated woodpecker. 

I read recently that this largest woodpecker in North American forests 9crow-sized) has traditionally been called the Lord God bird because when people see it in flight they exclaim "Lord God!" This struck me because we have seen or heard several in recent weeks and for me they represent the Holy Spirit more strongly than a dove. They have been hopeful signs in Creation.

When we were cycling along the Bay of Quinte this morning I stopped to ask two policemen if its still okay to be out as we were. They assured me if was still permissible even though provincial parks are closed. My spirit lifted as this news. As we cycled we saw an osprey nest and a fox ran across the path. When I whistled it stopped and returned toward us, seemingly curious. 

In the midst of so much gloomy news, each time we are in nature we experience a "Lord God!' moment, and I am grateful. 

Healing for Two April Fools

Leafing back in my journal I was surprised to see that it was four weeks ago today that we skied into Bon Echo Provincial Park, then across Mazinaw Lake to the petroglyphs. Could that be true? The month of March may have been the longest of my life, whatever the calendar says about a standard number of days.

We have chosen to get outside as much as possible to keeps the demons of uncertainty and anxiety about COVID-19 at bay, and to a significant degree this has been successful. We have also cycled a number of times, walked often, and paddled as well. Mazinaw may still be ice-bound but soon many more lakes will be accessible.

Yesterday we took advantage of the beauty of the day and drove to Lodge Point in Prince Edward County, part of Sandbanks Provincial Park. We walked the beach for an hour and a half and saw no other human during our wonderful saunter. Then we walked through the trees on the trail at the end of the point and pondered water the colours of the Caribbean. 

We covered nearly eight kilometres and 14,000 steps and other than a handful of people at the parking spot we encountered no one. There was blessed quiet, and I noticed that there weren't even plane contrails in the clear blue sky because airline travel has been curtailed, for the most part. 

There is no mistaking that humanity is in the midst of a global health crisis, a dreaded pandemic. It's difficult not to be mesmerized by the steady diet of dire news. At the the same time many of us are taking the opportunity to connect with the natural world, Creation, as though our souls depended on it.

A few weeks ago I read an essay by Fred Bahnson in Emergence magazine about the about the Christian Church Forests of Ethiopia. He wrote about an elderly woman entering her church forest and making the sign of the cross before bowing reverently. We have made a practice of doing this every time we enter a woods or forested area as an acknowledgement of the gift of trees and the marvelous work of the Creator. It seems awkward at first but now it is simply part of our outings. 

I encourage all of you to get outside, if you are able, and willing to maintain a respectful physical distance from other humans. Even looking out the window at the world around us or opening the door to hear the dawn chorus of birds is worthwhile, if venturing forth is not possible. Enjoy the social intimacy with other creatures. It really is good for the soul. May the God of Creation be with you.