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. 

Earth Hour in Dark Days

Prime Minister Trudeau encouraged Canadians to turn off the lights for an hour on Saturday night to observe Earth Hour. Of course the haters hated, deriding him for making such a suggestion during a time when the world seems so dark and foreboding. 

I'll confess that we didn't observe Earth Hour for what we figure is the first time since it's inception in 2007. I was in one room with a single light on, reading a book, while Ruth was in another, watching TV. Honestly, we felt quite pared down in terms of energy use, and we may need those candles at some point!

When Earth Hour began I was serving a congregation with lots of young families, so we made it a fun communal project. Lots of our members participated in different ways, and some actually shut down the power for everything in their home for the hour, commenting later on the silence when appliances and furnace weren't humming away. We framed the event as both a tangible and symbolic expression of Christian concern for Creation. 

Back then there was lots of excitement around the globe as major landmarks went dark and satellite images showed us that cities dimmed. It was a tangible way to be mindful of not only reduced energy use, but the realities of climate change which, sadly, have become even more acute since then.

While our collective will may not have been inclined toward Earth Hour in the midst of a frightening pandemic its interesting that the evidence is in that air pollution dropped dramatically in China during the shutdown, and that other countries are registering the same. There has also been a significant reduction in the use of fossil fuels as vehicular traffic has declined. 

What will we learn from all of this? I certainly wouldn't make any bold predictions about "seeing the light" -- or would that be the dark? -- and God knows our global data use has probably soared. We shouldn't give up on the legacy and value of Earth Hour just yet. 

The Climate Emergency Still Matters

These days there is essentially no news or coverage of issues of global importance other than...well, you know...

The plight of displaced refugees? The rights of Indigenous peoples in Canada and other countries around the world: And how about the disruptive effects of climate change? All these have been shoved into the background even though they continue to be extremely important. 

I'm impressed that Rolling Stone magazine has published  a special climate crisis edition with young Swede, Greta Thunberg on the cover. Today Greta is well known around the globe and she has inspired millions of teens and not-so-teens with a powerful message about acting now to save planet Earth. In the accompanying article we are reminded of her improbable start for this movement and her unwavering focus:

Back then, it was just Greta, a sign, and a lunch of bean pasta in a reusable glass jar. Then it was two people, and then a dozen, and then an international movement. I mention the bravery of her speeches, but she waves me away. She wants to talk about the loss of will among the olds.

https://www.rollingstone.com/politics/politics-features/greta-thunberg-climate-crisis-cover-965949/

Earlier this month Rolling Stone published an interview with another climate emergency superstar, Katharine Hayhoe. Hayhoe is a Canadian who is a climate scientist living in Texas. She is an evangelical Christian who doesn't "believe" in climate change because it is a matter of scientific evidence rather than religious conviction, even though many conservative Christians don't see it that way. 

https://www.rollingstone.com/politics/politics-features/katharine-hayhoe-evangelical-christian-climate-scientist-953086/

We can't downplay the crisis we're in with the pandemic of COVID-19. We must be vigilant every day.  The global response may awaken us to the reality that we can take drastic and decisive measures in response to the greatest threats of our time. I pray that we will apply the lessons we are learning and "live with respect in Creation."

Enjoying In the Garden

I am regularly -- almost daily -- asked if I would like copies of books so that I can review them on my Lion Lamb blog. Sometimes I politely reply but I generally ignore the requests because they are unsolicited and they tend to reflect a theological outlook to which I don't subscribe. In more than a decade of these offers I figure I've said yes a total of three or four times.

Recently I had a copy of a book called In the Garden: An Illustrated Guide to the Plants of the Bible sent my way. I'm a leafy, outdoorsy kinda guy, so it intrigued me. In the introduction there is the explanation that "rather than being a dictionary of the plants mentioned in the Bible, In the Garden, with its original illustrations and plant descriptions, is meant to spark the reader's spiritual imagination." I'd say that the book does so quite well. 



I really appreciate the lovely illustrations by Becky Speer which include flowers, edible and medicinal plants and trees. The book could be used through the season of Lent as a daily reflection guide. 

The text includes corresponding scripture verses and explanations which are helpful. I struggle a bit with the places where an attempt is made to interpret passages as foretelling the coming of the Christ in the Hebrew scriptures. They seem forced at times, a theological agenda which doesn't really fit the purpose of the book in my estimation.

That said, I've come back to In the Garden a number of times just to savour the beauty of the illustrations. I would agree with the description that "these plants, as with all of God's good creation, call out to us to worship our Creator anew. I appreciate that Whitaker House press offered this book to me.  

Lenten Walk, Easter Promsie

Oreo on the Prowl

Joy comes with the dawn;
joy comes with the morning sun;
joy springs from the tomb
and scatters the night with her song,
joy comes with the dawn.

1 Weeping may come;
weeping may come in the night,
when dark shadows cloud our sight.  R

Voices United 166

This morning we decided to get out early for a stir-crazy antidote walk. In many jurisdictions parks and paths have been closed because people are too stunned to maintain physical distance from friends and strangers alike. We're taking advantage of the freedom to amble and ramble for as long as possible.

This is a butt-ugly, "Lenten self-denial" time of year in Southern Ontario. It's seems that the palette of our world is all subdued and sombre colours. We await the return of most songbirds and leaves to the trees.

We arrived at the conservation area by 7:45, so we were alone for our entire walk, even though we were on the trails for an hour and a half. At the boardwalk into the marsh there was a great chorus of red-winged blackbirds, the first cohort of returnees. We saw a purposeful muskrat, swans, various ducks and, yes, geese, geese and more geese. 

In the woods on another trail we stopped for a momentary ritual of gratitude for the trees we've adopted after reading about an elder Ethiopian woman who does so each time she enters the church forest she attends. It makes us mindful of both our setting and the Creator.

We laughed a lot as we staged Oreo, a favourite plush toy of our 2 1/2 year old granddaughter, throughout the woods. A tale of feline adventure for her will ensue.

We also walked in reverent silence, taking in the plainness which has its own anticipatory beauty. The carpet of decaying leaves muffled our footsteps. We reached the Moira River and were startled by a sharp report which was the slap of a beaver tail. We stayed still and it re-emerged. In fact, it hung around, swimming back and forth in an attempt to figure out what we were. A Pileated woodpecker pounded away nearby. 

Often when I'm outside hymns come to mind in a way they rarely do when I'm indoors. On the boardwalk it was Joy Comes With the Dawn, a hymn which we've often sung during communion on Easter morning.  

In what is a truly pensive season of Lent for the planet there is still laughter and joy, and an Resurrection promise, even though there will be no physical Easter morning gatherings in a couple of weeks.That promise was in the air today, and I'm grateful to God, Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. 

2 Sorrow will turn,
sorrow will turn into song,
and God's laughter make us strong.  R

3 We will rejoice,
we will rejoice, and give praise,
to the One who brings us grace.  R