Summer Breeze

The other day, my 10-month-old grandson Max and I were walking around the house and we noticed the curtains in my bedroom were billowing out, swaying in the gentle breeze. That brought me back to my grandfather’s house where in the summer we’d be sitting in the parlor after a long day of baling hay, and the gauzy curtains would reach out their arms to cool us down.

What is it with the breezes of summer? What makes them so intriguingly beautiful? The maple leaves bow and bend, the poplar leaves twirl and dance, the white pine seems to be the conductor slowly keeping the rhythmic beat. Reminds me of the John Denver song that goes: “…and the wind will whisper your name to me, little birds will sing along in time, leaves will bow down when you walk by and morning bells will chime.”

The magic of a summer breeze is that it plays while it gives us refreshing coolness. Playing is an important part of life. We see the baby bears rolling around, playing on the grass, enjoying the feeling of being alive. The baby fawns are all over, playing or resting while they wait for their mothers to return. Even the leaves of the trees practice - gaining strength and flexibility, and play - dancing and twirling.

Max has an amazing way to play. First, he likes to crawl upstairs - and won’t go unless he knows I’m following him because he likes to terrorize me by turning and looking down at just the wrong time. Getting a reaction from Gram is very important in play for a 10-month-old. He also likes to put things in his mouth which is his number one detection place. “Let’s see what this thing does” - also something that terrorizes Gram. He also likes to bang things together, point, lift his arms up, cruise around the room. For a baby, the whole world is an adventure to explore, a big playground, and when you fall you just cry a little and get picked up and all is well.

School’s out for the children, and they have time to play more than usual. Retired people say they have a lot of time to play, but do they play? I think that the service some retired people give to the community is wonderful and maybe it is like play for them. At least I hope it is. Play gives us strength for living.

Playing is a necessary part of our growth and development. Play has spiritual aspects. In fact, there are books written on the spirituality of playing. I know this is true, but looking at my vast collection of books, I don’t have one on play. Hmm, interesting. Well, it’s 4th of July weekend and families are all together, hopefully having fun. This is a great time to play. May your playing be safe, refreshing, spiritually uplifting and engaging. If you know of any good spiritual books on play, I’m open to suggestions.

Swallowtails, Mud Puddles & Pride

            A friend was telling me that when she was at the river cooling off, she saw a lot of swallowtail butterflies. Butterflies are wonderful creatures, and when they are flitting around you get a joyful feeling knowing that it’s summer in the Adirondacks.  The next day, I was at 4th Lake and didn’t just see a lot of swallowtails, I saw a ton of swallow tails! They were all over, swooping and darting in the air, of course, doing  butterfly happy dances, coming in and out of my vision like they were in the physical world and then in another realm.  Then a strange gathering caught my attention. There was a large congregation of butterflies on the sand in one spot. When you see that, you have a lot of questions: what in the world are they doing all close together? were they mating? having a war? killing each other? eating a dead thing? I inched closer and closer and saw that they weren’t doing any of those things, they were in this one wet space in the sand flapping their wings, in joy. They were gathering something from the sand, what it was I don’t know. It was a gracious congregation, some were coming and some were going, floating on the breeze, sinking to the ground, wings in distinct harmony. It didn’t look like they were shutting anyone out - but maybe that’s just putting a human spin on their behavior. What was going on?

            Curiosity is a good thing, so I had to consult my researcher (my son) and he told me that they were mud puddling. Insects do that, he noted. They find a wet place, or a dead thing, and just all gather and partake. Mud puddling!  The wallowing swallowtails were probably taking some kind of nutrient from the damp sand.  There was some element in the sand that was so important to them that they all gathered together and shared the feast. 

            There are a lot of varieties of swallowtails all over the world. They seem to be pretty common and not endangered. If you look up what they eat, you’ll see that their larvae eat a variety of vegetation, not like the monarch who only uses the milkweed to feed their larvae. The diversity of the swallowtail diet helps them thrive.

            Of course, this being June and Pride Month, the swallowtails helped me to think about  the diversity of people. We are all so different in our tastes and gifts, our desires and our affections. We all need different things to thrive. Some of us thrive in the city, some in the forest, some at the beach. As we quote in the ordination service:

4 Now there are varieties of gifts but the same Spirit, 5 and there are varieties of services but the same Lord, 6 and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. 7 To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. (I Cor 12:4-7)

            Isn’t that fascinating, that while we are all these spiritual beings inspired (breathed into being) by the One Spirit,  there is so much diversity in us. Not one of us is a clone or copy of another. We need all this diversity to thrive and grow. It is hard to believe that we continue to mistrust and misuse people who are not like us. We continue to judge and be judged by the other. Who is the other if not a reflection of ourselves?

            Where to do we drink in the nutrient, the element, that will help us see clearly the oneness of all creation? How can we be open to more diversity? Pride Month invites us to observe a new way of seeing. Mud puddling swallowtails are lovely teachers.

Clouds & Joy

For a few weeks now, seems like maybe it’s been months or years, we have been under a lot of clouds. Some are large and puffy; some are steel gray and ominous. You may think it’s clearing up for a while but if you see the sun and go outside, clouds start to close in and there you are caught in a rain shower. April showers do bring May flowers, but it’s May already! The spring slowly creeps along, more buds opening to the light, the grass greener, but it seems like we are waiting in pregnant expectation for the real spring to begin, covered in heavy clouds.

This spring almost feels like I am engulfed in a cloud, unable to get things done, to move in a direction I want to move in. Some images of clouds are positive in Christian tradition. Jesus ascends to heaven in a cloud. In Revelation, Jesus returns to earth in a cloud. The Hebrew scriptures have a cloud leading the people of Israel out of slavery. Here clouds are full of mystery, hope and good intentions, a connection between heaven and earth. Yet they feel oppressive to me, keeping me trapped under their weight and darkness.

Of course, all our spiritual wisdom teachers remind us to stay in the moment, to let the clouds be clouds, to lament, to grieve, to be miserable. They tell us to just be and don’t judge it! They constantly remind us of that because they want us to find joy in the now. In fact, Matthew Fox has been writing about joy this week, which is interesting because he usually harangues us about social justice issues (which is extremely important, of course). Julian of Norwich lived through very difficult times including plagues and wars but she talked about joy a lot. Fox says that “Julian was the first woman to write a book in the English language and she actually invented the word enjoy. That was how important her finding joy in the mist of peril and suffering was to her. She adapted it from an old French word, enjoier, meaning rejoicing.”

Joy is not happiness or giddiness. It’s a decision to see the positive, to be grateful, to dance and sing despite what is happening around us. There are sunny days, there are cloudy days, there are days when we have hope, and days where there is despair. Where do you find joy in the midst of clouds?

THE ROSES WIN

This week I finally went into my garden to start cleaning winter debris. It is late, and some of my lovely little early flowers were hidden in the leaves, but what was most important to do was to trim out the rose bushes. I have some very vigorous rose bushes and they get out of control. I’m sure I should have cut the canes back in the fall, but I never follow directions, so I began to work.  I started with no gloves, and was getting very upset, why oh why were my roses hurting me?  I love my roses. As I was picking a smallish thorn out of my arm, I noticed a very large thorn stuck in my barn boots! Wow, these roses are not fooling around, so I got out the gloves, but, still in short sleeves, the branches wound around me like those thorn bushes in Sleeping Beauty. No matter how much I tried to reason with the roses they kept hurting me. The job is mostly done now, but not without shedding some blood, sweat and tears.  Here is what I learned:

1. Be prepared. Now, when you work with roses you should be prepared - like wearing gloves and long sleeves, preferably a denim coat and pants, or leather or in some cases it seems that you need metal clothing. It is more difficult to be prepared for the thorns that life throws at us every day. Especially when we listen to the news and hear of another shooting, or one of our dear friends is diagnosed with cancer, or when we don’t have enough money for something special or to even to pay the bills. The list can go on and on.  The question is how do we prepare for life? You may have your own answers. Last week we shared a few.  Here are a couple more things to do: Get some good rest. When I’m tired I do or say things that I am not proud of. Get the right amount of exercise. Taking a Yoga or Qi Gong class can be so nourishing. (And this is just for me - Stop eating so  much candy!!)  Being prepared is also about studying people and writings that are filled with wisdom to live life well. Like Thich Nhat Hahn who said,

“Waking up this morning I smile,

Twenty-four brand new hours are before me.

I vow to live fully in each moment

and to look at all beings with the eyes of compassion.”

What helps you be prepared to walk out the front door in the morning?

2. Don’t take anything personally. Roses are beautiful, but roses are roses.  Why do I expect a rose to treat me differently then it treats any other thing that would harm its branches. Don Miguel Ruiz says in The Four Agreements, “Nothing other people do is because of you. It is because of themselves. All people live in their own dream, in their own mind; they are in a completely different world from the one we live in. When we take something personally, we make the assumption that they know what is in our world, and we try to impose our world on their world.” This Toltec wisdom is of course not talking about roses. Trying to impose another person’s views on ourselves, or our views on another person is never life giving. I believe there are plenty of references about not judging, that includes judging ourselves.  Easier said than done, right? But maybe if we keep reminding ourselves, at some point our awareness of what we’re doing will lead to us change our behavior.  That’s the hope.

Be Aware

To the nature deep within you

Aware of it’s beauty and it’s shadow

Aware of it’s sorrow and pain

Remain faithful in its blooming and in its dying

Be Aware

Enjoy the coming of the spring and all the opportunities for awareness opening around us.

April Awakenings

April is a month of awakenings. The snow recedes, bit by bit, or goes away entirely and then comes back with force. But there is an assurance that spring will come, no matter what. Even in the north, where spring happens very slowly, we had a warm spell last week. Warm enough so that my first crocus appeared on the lawn, that the maple trees began to flower, that Star planted her peas (well, peas can take a lot). We were all so happy that the sun was out and that we could wear short sleeves that we forgot for a moment that 80 degrees in April is not healthy for the plants. It fools them into thinking, ok time to sprout out, but after the 80-degree days it’s back to the 20s and 30s at night. So, the flow of spring is long and complicated. It has its ups and downs, its warming and cooling, its beauty and its bleakness. It is a part of the cycle of the seasons, always changing, always flowing along. 

In Qi Gong we do movements that are called flow. After doing movements that awaken and stretch the body, we settle into a flow state and, as we say, “let the Qi move us.” This Qi, or life force energy, surrounds us and when we are in the flow state we are aware of Qi. In my mind the Qi is like love, the substance that makes up the universe, the force that holds all things together. This love is sometimes buried deep and we can’t feel, see, taste or smell it, but it is always there. In John Philip Newell’s latest book, he talks about an early Celtic teacher, John Scotus Eriugena who “sees the divine as a subterranean river flowing though the body of the earth and through everything that has being. This sacred river runs also through you and through me. We can open to it now to be more fully alive.”

Such a beautiful statement - it brings me peace when I know that there is not much peace going on in the rest of the world. How do we cope with all the pain, disease, violence, threats and lies that are thrown at us? How do we awaken to the sacred that is all around? If you have any ideas let me know. Here are some of mine. Keep space, that means having some time away from everything, the news, the dishes, the office. Space allows me to have some breathing room. Remembering that I only have control of my reaction to things, not other people. Spending time with my anam cara, these are soul friends who listen deeply, who I am free to be vulnerable with. Go for a walk in nature or look out the window at nature. Nature can be so healing.  And send light, love and healing prayers into the world like this one by John Philip:

Awake, O my soul,

to the flow of the divine deep within you.

Awake to it in every creature, in every woman, in every man.

It is our river of resurrection, the promise of new beginnings.

Awake, O my soul,

to the flow of the divine deep with you. 

(Sacred Earth, Sacred Soul p. 95)

As spring continues to awaken in the Adirondacks, may we join this awakening energy, this life force, this Qi, and be a part of the cycle of new life that offers hope and healing. 

Making Connections

I was reading an essay by Lyla June Johnson, a scholar of Dine (Navajo) and Tsetsehestahese (Cheyenne) lineage, called The Forest as a Farm. She talked about the history of the land, Turtle Island in particular. My colonized brain always thought that this country, this land, Turtle Island, was natural, pristine, untouched before the settlers came. Oh, there were indigenous people, but they really didn’t disturb the natural balance. But Johnson says that for thousands of years, indigenous people were living in relationship with the land. They were watching, listening, observing the natural order of things. and while they watched and learned they were able to discern what to plant, what to grow and how to grow it. It was mind boggling to think that the Americas were cultivated before Europeans came to settle here. The indigenous people were living in relationship with the land, being connected, watching and understanding. The land’s response to that relationship was to provide enough food to make life sustainable, I might even use the word abundant.

European explorers were awed by the beauty of the land when they came to what is now Virginia. They wrote about how there were spaces between the trees where the deer could roam in freedom. It looked like a pristine forest. What they didn’t know was that the land was being cared for, cleared in a way that maintained the integrity of a forest, yet provided for humans and other species to live and thrive. Johnson says that humans are a keystone species, that is, “a species that creates habitat and living conditions for other species.” Permaculture farmers are learning to do much the same thing, living in relationship with the land they inhabit. She says, “Where you live, which biome or ecosystem, will determine how we are meant to work with the land.” The problem I see is that I don’t know how to listen to and observe nature so that I can be in sync with the land, so that what I do benefits the earth and myself.

This kind of relationship only comes with intentional listening and observing, of not trying to control the product but to let what is inherent be born. Doesn’t this sound familiar? This is an intentional practice. Isn’t this also the key to a spiritual life? When we are in relationship with the land, with each other, with other species, we realize our connection, we realize we are beloved community, we realize that this connection for growth and nurture is the love that binds us all together. Johnson looks at this relationship with the land as not just producing food for ourselves but “honoring what the creator has made.” May we honor each other, ourselves, and all our relations.

November Light

I haven’t written for a long time, I have been writing, but writing of a different sort, more specifically, I haven’t been blogging. So one morning I was driving south, the temperature was in the low 20s or maybe colder, when I crested the hill, the sun light touched to tops of the wide forest of bare branches and the trees were alight with a brilliance, a radiance, a glorious light. There are of course no words to take you with me to being surrounded by glittering trees, light reflected like diamond on the maple and birch branches, but there I was in the midst of the holy. The song we sang on Iona came to mind, “Gloria, Gloria, Gloria, in excelsis deo,” in three part harmony out in a sheep pasture looking at the hill where St. Columba is said to have prayed every night. And on that hill, one of his monks saw angels winging their way around the saint. Maybe for us, the trees are the angels, their glittering light is a way of singing praise, a way of gratitude, a way of reminding us that yes even in the cold and mess there is the sacred.

With so much going on, that we can’t even watch or listen to the news without our blood pressure rising, it’s nice to know that there is still beauty, still a reason to sing, a reason to glow. Some of us have been watching a workshop put together by Commune, featuring Zach Bush, MD. He was talking about regenerative agriculture that can turn the soil of the earth back into the fertile ground it once was. Our current big agricultural methods have been depleting the soil for many years. And in the midst of his talk on soil he started to talk about the amazing beauty of the trees, the sky, the smile of a baby. When we pause and take in the beauty it enables us to love more fully. He was making the connection of the sacredness of all life, and how we can take care of the earth and each other. If you’d like to listen to these amazing talks see Commune

Have you made an intention for how to spend this season of darkness. Will you be looking for beauty? Will you be looking for light? Will you be comforted by resting in the holy dark? Will you be busy shopping for Christmas gifts?

January Pause

In January there are often no animals sounds, there is hardly any traffic noise expect on weekends when the snowmobiles are on the trails, but if you walk in the January woods, you can hear the soft sound of your foot crunching on the ice hard snow, you see your breath crystalize in the air, and if you are very lucky you can see a sun pillar. One morning while driving in subzero temperatures, there was a beautiful rainbow sun pillar illuminating the January sky, in awe and wonder I stopped and in the silence and stillness beauty surrounded me.

Silence is the key to listening to the created world, silencing our mind, stilling our bodies and resting in the absolute essence of being. Father Thomas Keating is noted as saying, ‘God’s first language is silence.’ There are Biblical examples of silence. Elijah on the mountain waiting for God to pass by, God was not in the fire or the earthquake, but in the still small voice. (I Kings 19:11-13). Jesus often goes off alone to pray, without distraction. (Matthew 14:23). John Philip Newell reminds us that to listen to the heartbeat of God requires stillness. In his liturgies he includes time to be still and aware and a time to be silent. Howard Thurman describes the complex varieties of silence, from sitting in a fishing boat, to being in a Quaker meeting, to contemplating Jesus as aide to prayer. Centering, practicing stillness, opens our hearts and minds, and raises our consciousness.

“We give this cognitive stillness the name of consciousness. It is a form of inner energy without boundaries. It has the qualities of stillness, peace, and equanimity in our body, mind, and heart. But its preeminent quality is cognition, the general capacity to perceive. By turning our consciousness back on itself, we can perceive it. To do that, we simply relax back into this inner stillness and rest there, fully alert to this unfamiliar space.” (Joseph Naft, “Inner Frontier: Cultivating Inner Presence,”)

Naft describes consciousness as awareness of our inner self. Keeping silence can be seen as inner work, it brings us to the notion of mindfulness. Being present in the now, perceiving what is arising in each moment necessitates a certain amount of stillness and quite. Yet it also opens us to our own communal nature. “The deeper we move within our own souls, the closer we come to the soul of one another. And the closer we move to the heart of all life, the nearer we come to the heart of our being.” (John Philip Newell, Christ of the Celts)

Chanting, which is not silent, is a communal art form that stills and quiets our minds and helps us to connect to the inner self, the true self, the self that is in communion with God. Cynthia Bourgeault talks about early monks chanting the psalms as an “entrance into contemplative prayer and work of inner transformation by focusing the mind with the words of the psalm.” This focused mindful activity creates life giving community. The harmony in a chant penetrates deeply into the body, its resonance is healing. Bourgeault tells the story of a group of monks who were told chanting was no longer necessary, so it was cut from their daily devotions. A strange illness began debilitating the monks, and the doctor could not find what was wrong. When chanting was reinstated, the monks regained their health. The sound vibrating off the walls on the monastery, the harmony, the unity in chanting as a group all worked together to bring healing and wholeness. Our bodies are more than mere machines. Our physical being is spirit as well, “there is nothing but Spirit in any direction.” (Ken Wilbur, the Religion of Tomorrow)

As chant and singing is a vehicle for stillness and inner silence, so is body movement such as yoga, Qi Gong and other meditation forms of movement and breathing. During the short days of January, cross country skiing can be an act of meditative silence. Arms and legs gliding along in rhythm. Breath matching the strides, white clouds of exhalation visible in the air. In movement there can be stillness within. In nature, even in frigid temperatures, the still world invites pause, and deep seeing. Standing in awe of the ice crystals lining the evergreen branches, listening to the faint trickle of water under a frozen stream all are means to inner awareness. “Be still and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)

January living is hard too, yes, there is beauty, but it is cold, the sun does nothing to warm the earth although the days are getting longer. It is work to keep your house warm, to shovel snow, to go out in a blizzard to keep an appointment. Life does not stop when there are storms. There are few birds who stay the winter, and if they do it is a dangerous life for them, they must each often or they die. “Only those who know nothing of nature can be entirely romantic about living close to the soil.” Esther De Waal, The Celtic Way of Prayer) The elements are a force to be reconned with, there is nothing easy about winter in the Adirondacks, that is why so many people leave for southern states from October to May.

Staying year-round, we learn that the seasons hold rhythms that can teach deep truths. When the animals are hibernating, and the earth is cold and frozen, we might learn that striving against the elements does not make as much sense as joining the flow of quiet and rest. Rest offers an “awareness and practice of the claim that we are situated on the receiving end of the gifts of God.” (Walter Brueggemann, The Sabbath Way of Resistance) Resting allows the opportunity for mindfulness, for letting go of all the stress, striving and grabbling that consumes us.

January offers a time of rest, stillness and silence. It has become a time for renewal, to make resolutions, to do new things, perhaps the stillness, rest and silence will eventually lead us into these new ways of being, when we are open to the leading of the Spirit anything is possible.

Roses

What God whispered to the rose 

to make it bloom so beautifully, 

He shouted to my heart times 

one hundred!

— Jelaluddin Rumi, Shadow Dance by David Richo

In late June,  I get obsessed with Roses. Waiting for them to bloom, watching the buds get bigger and wider every day. I don’t care if they’re fancy roses or cow pasture roses, they are all beautiful. In fact I love them so much my baby is Margaret Rose and my grand baby is Evelyn Rose, and my middle name is Rosemary, and my grandmother, who I never met, was named Rose. So, June is my favorite month because of the roses, the smell, the anticipation, the absolute beauty of watching them open to the sun during those long days of summer. My roses, which are from my mother’s rose garden, were in the back of my garden, and they didn’t like it much, too much shade for them, but then a few years ago I moved them and wow, they are loaded with buds this year - maybe it’s a rose summer.  I would love to tell you the names of my roses, I tried to look them up on the internet and found this:  “Old-fashioned roses are a diverse group that includes roses that existed before 1867. They are grown for their beautiful fragrance. Varieties of old-fashioned roses include climbers and shrubs. China and tea roses are included in this group.” Anyway we often try to put things in categories or give them names, when we could just be content to be with the rose. 

Now that it’s July, many of the roses have opened, though more are coming, and it seems like I need to do something with the petals. Oh no, I just can’t let them be, I’ve done that for a week or so and now it must be time to harvest rose petals. Youtube has many ideas on what to do with rose petals:  rose water, rose oil, dry roses for lasting bouquets, let them become rose hips…

Often, when we have something that catches our attention it’s good to think about why. I found a number of quotes about roses like the one above, and have been posting them on social media with pictures. 

Rumi always has something for us to ponder, so I wonder why he says God has to shout to humans  so we can hear what the rose hears in a whisper? Did Rumi’s heart hear a loud shout showing him the beauty that surrounded him? Or was he thinking that we need a bull horn to hear God’s voice while the rose is more in tune with the divine? Or is he saying humans are more valuable than roses? I hope not because Rumi is so wise he must know that the rose and the human are both sacred. 

Richard Rohr and John Philip Newell have new books coming out about the sacredness of all things. Richard’s title is: Every Thing Is Sacred: 40 Practices and Reflections on the Universal Christ and John Philip’s is called: Sacred Earth, Sacred Soul: Celtic Wisdom for Reawakening to What Our Souls Know and Healing the World. I haven’t read either yet, but the titles are quite similar, don’t you think. There is also a book by Matthew Fox called Order of the Sacred Earth: An Intergenerational Vision of Love and Action. Fox’s book calls for the creation of an order, like a religious order, for people to join and follow practices for holy living based on his creation spirituality.  He says: “we are all here as a blessing to one another and to the Earth and it is our responsibility to live out our capacity to return blessing for blessing.” (31)  I know the rose blesses me by its beauty and presence and I bless the rose by loving it (and picking off the rose beetles that want to eat the leaves). 

Walter Brueggemann, biblical scholar, reminds us we all have a place in creation. “All creation - including human creatures but not especially human creatures - are looked after, cared for, sustained, and protected by the generous guarantees that the Creator has embedded in creation.” (An Unsettling God, p 139) The ‘not especially human creatures’ line in this quote speaks to me that even the writers of the Hebrew scripture so many millennia ago, had a concept of the sacredness of all of creation without the idea of humans being the pinnacle of creation. Or maybe that’s just a modern interpretation on Brueggemann’s part, but it resonates with me. 

Indigenous wisdom has long believed that we are a part of creation, as precious and priceless as the rose, but not something more important than the rose. They call the rocks, stones, creatures, plants, sky, earth, mountains, ‘all my relations.’  Sherri Mitchell reminds us that even though we may be one with all creation, we are not the same. She says: “It is the transcendence of our differences and the weaving of our diverse expressions into a tapestry that is harmonized and aligned…[that] we have the capacity to create a world that is compassionately intent on preserving the integrity of all life in a harmonious balance.”  (Sacred Instructions, xx)  

Harmony and balance. May we walk in harmony and balance, with the roses and with each other, respecting all life, as we seek to follow the way of peace. 

Jubilation

Some of my friends’ gardens are at their flowering peak. There are columbine, roses, poppies, clematis, wild geranium, Siberian iris and the beautiful large purple and yellow domestic iris. It’s a garden of Eden, which reminds me of a line from the Unitarian Hymnal:

“Show to us again the garden where all life flows fresh and free. Gently guide your sons and daughters into full maturity. Teach us how to trust each other, how to use for good our power, how to touch the earth with reverence. Then once more will Eden flower.”

We went on a yoga hike looking for the Lady Slipper Orchid on Saturday, and were a little late, but a friend sent me the above picture with a beautiful group of orchids. You just want to stop and smell the roses, take a breath and be in joy with creation’s blooming.

Such Jubilation! How profound and also amazing as the Presbytery of Utica has become a funding partner with the Center for Jubilee Practice. Check out the website here. https://jubileepractice.org

  The center is a new 501c3 that will be working to help Christian Churches becomes more open and affirming, more loving and caring, more other centered than self centered. In other words, it will help churches and other interested groups bloom into the people we are called to be. Here are the first two paragraphs from the Rome Sentinel that describe the center:

“The Rev. Ashley DeTar Birt and Elder Rick Ufford-Chase have founded The Center for Jubilee Practice in partnership with the Presbytery of Utica and Johnson C. Smith Theological Seminary.

“The mission of the Center for Jubilee Practice is to encourage Christian churches in the United States to develop concrete practices of reparations, watershed discipleship, full LGBTQIA+ inclusion, and respectful multi-faith partnership. Such practices of reparations have the potential to address and make amends for historic harm the church has caused or supported — intentionally or unintentionally — with Native Americans, African-Americans, among those who identify as LGBTQIA+, and in protection of the land itself in this unprecedented time of climate crisis.”

As June continues to bloom, here is a prayer for us all:

May we respect the sanctity of each flower

May we watch and learn from the smallest plants what it is to have life

May we dance in the breezes of summer

May we gaze in stillness at the gifts that surround us,

May we realize our own beauty and worth,

And may we live in harmony and balance with all our relations.

A Ritual for Watershed Blessing

A watershed is land around a river, or any water system, where “all living beings are inextricably linked by their common water course and where, humans settled…All of us live in a watershed, no matter how ignorant we may be about it….Watershed discipleship believes that only by ‘taking root downward,’ as the old prophet Isaiah put it, ‘can the surviving remnant…again bare fruit upward.” Isaiah 37:31” Ched Myers in Faithful Resistance

We honor the water protectors and the water-bearers The sacred feminine: “Every life that passes through our wombs is nurtured and developed in water; we carry the waters of life within us, making us the water-bearers of the universe.” Sherri Mitchell in Sacred Instructions

SONG: River Running in You and Me Link to Youtube

Remember a time when you were a child, and you sank your bare toes into the stream nearest your house. The clear, clean water running over your feet, the warmth of the sun. Was it a small creek perhaps, running into a larger river at some point. Did you realize that you were standing in a flow of connection that united your land? “Water is the foundation of all life, and it is fundamental to our survival….The human right to life is dependent on access to clean water.” Sherri Mitchell in Sacred Instructions

Qi Gong - the Water Element Link to Youtube video

“Praise and gratitude to the sacred waters of the world, to the oceans, the mother of life, the womb of the plant life that freshens our air with oxygen, the brew that is stirred by sunlight and the moon's gravity into the great currents and tides that move across the earth, circulating the means of life, bringing warmth to the frozen Arctic and cool, fresh winds to the tropics. We give thanks for the blessed clouds and the rain that brings the gift of life to the land, that eases the thirst of roots, that grows the trees and sustains life even in the dry desert. We give thanks for the springs that bring life-giving water up from the ground, for the small streams and creeks, for the mighty rivers. We praise the beauty of water, the sparkle of the sunlight on a blue lake, the shimmer of moonlight on the ocean's waves, the white spray of the waterfall. We take delight in the sweet singing of the dancing stream and the roar of the river in the flood.

We ask help to know within ourselves all the powers of water: to wear down and to build up, to ebb and to flow, to nurture and to destroy, to merge and to separate. We know that water has great powers of healing and cleansing, and we also know that water is vulnerable to contamination and pollution. We ask help in our work as healers, in our efforts to ensure that the waters of the world run clean and run free, that all the earth's children have the water they need to sustain abundance of life. Blessed be the water.” — Starhawk in The Earth Path

LITANY OF COMMITMENT

We commit to withdrawing our support from harming the watershed

The water is sacred, its flow connects us all

We refuse to invest in those companies that are using destructive practices

The water is sacred, its flow connects us all.

We do not support farming practices that pollute the water

The water is sacred, its flow connects us all.

We will not support governments that practice hydrofracting on their lands.

The water is sacred, its flow connects us all.

We will respect water, the water coming out of our faucets will not be wasted.

The water is sacred, its flow connects us all.

We will take personal notice of our water usage and be mindful that it is a gift.

The water is sacred, its flow connects us all.

We will respect the water rights of those in other neighborhoods and community and stand in solidarity with their right to clean water.

The water is sacred, its flow connects us all.

BLESSINGS OF WATER

"Spirit of Living Water,

You hold all of creation in your womb

And spring us forward onto the earth at birth

Blessings of water be upon me.” — Christine Valters Paintner in Water, Wind, Earth, and Fire

“We give thanks to all the waters of the world. We are grateful that the waters are still here and doing their duty of sustaining life on Mother Earth. Water is life, quenching our thirst and providing us with strength, making the plants grow and sustain us all. Let us gather our minds together and with one mind, we wend greening and thanks to the Waters.” Robin Wall Kimmerer in Braiding Sweet Grass.

Snow Cover

February has been an interesting month. It has snowed for many days, there are almost two feet of packed snow on the ground, the deer have a hard time walking around, so you see them in the middle of the street, or walking up the plowed driveways. My neighbor uses his snowblower to make mazes for his dogs to run around. What a fantastic idea - building a snow labyrinth! One of the good things about snow, other than it covers and protects the ground, providing water when it melts, is that is covers up a multitude of sins. Ok, so we forgot to pick up a few toys, well we don’t have to look at them because they’re buried. We can look out at a pristine lawn, beautiful, white and sparkly. When the moon is full there is crystalline light reflected off the snow, when the sun is out we need sunglasses. That is a the gift of snow: covering, blinding, and letting us forget about all the mess we’ll have in the spring.

Yet this February, there has been a lot brought to our memory, or our awareness. We are excited there is a COVID vaccine, so there may be hope that we can hug our friends again in the future. We lament death, so many people are no longer here in a physical way and we will miss them. Many things have changed like the way we have meetings, our shopping habits, our worshipping habits.

Several of us watched the People’s Inauguration hosted by Valarie Kaur over ten days following the presidential inauguration. The program presented heart wrenching information about the injustices that have been perpetrated against people of color, people who are perceived by some as foreigners, innocent people who continually meet resistance to their being. Unlike the snow, Valarie uncovered, revealed and reminded us that we are all one. She gave us strategies for becoming warriors of revolutionary love, to help heal and renew relationships in this country. Weaving Home has the complete People’s Inauguration series available on Sounds True if anyone is interested in watching.

Even though the snow covers, blinds us and helps us to forget what is under it, February, Black history month, reminds us to uncover the history that has been missing from our learning, to have our eyes open to the reality of being a black, indigenous or person of color (BIPOC) in this country. What will it be like for the next 7 generations if we don’t do something now?

Rev. Jim Bear Jacobs, from the Minnesota Council of Churches was telling a story on Interfaith Power and Light’s virtual Stop Line 3 Rally. He was with a group of aboriginal friends from Australia who were visiting Southern California. The friends noticed that there were eucalyptus trees growing everywhere. Eucalyptus trees are a sacred relative that the aboriginal Australians hold very dear, and it broke their hearts to see these relatives out of their native home. Later they learned the history of how the trees were brought to California. In the 19th century the rail road capitalists traveled to Australia and noticed that the eucalyptus is a fast growing tree and has very hard wood. It’s so strong because it grows in a circular pattern that interlocks the wood fibers together, so of course the capitalists thought wow these trees will be extremely useful as building material, for rail road ties. What happened when they moved the trees north of the equator was that particular circular pattern in which the trees grew was reversed, so the trees were weakened, it took away all the strength and hardness, they became useless as a resource for making money. His friend said, with tears in her eyes, that these trees chose to make themselves weak so that they couldn’t be exploited, they subverted the colonial use, and because they are not valuable anymore, they are left alone and grow in abundance. The beauty of the story is that with so much of the indigenous fauna in southern Californian destroyed, the eucalyptus trees stand and some scientists say that these trees have saved the western migration of monarch butterfly. These trees intentionally made themselves useless to colonial capitalism and instead have saved their winged relatives. Rev. Jim Bear went on to say, that those indigenous people who are protesting Line 3 in Minnesota are holding space, intentionally making themselves useless to exploitive economy, giving us an option that there is another way forward, we don’t need to buy into the colonial idea that we have to extract and use all of our resources.

How are we holding space for the next generation? How are our actions and purchases making a difference in how we relate to BIPOC, or how can we reimagine what a fair, just world would look like? Unlike the snow, how can we uncover truth, see with an open heart and mind, and remember what we do now will effect future generations?

"The Heavens are telling the Glory of God" Psalm 19:1

There were two full moons in October this year, so the 13th full moon happened in December. I guess I don’t usually pay much attention to how many full moons we have, but when you do it is really magical. How much attention does it take to see the whole world through a lens that reminds us of the magic or sacredness of each thing, each creation, each tree, person, stone or celestial body. Late on the last week of December, I was walking home in the stillness of the night, the moon was almost full and an amazing rainbow, circle, halo glowed around the moon. I stopped in wonder, you don’t see this every day. Gavin Pretor-Pinney said in his book A Cloud a Day: “Less common and even more magical are the optical phenomena caused by the moon. Its light can produce all the same effects as the Sun’s, but lunar bows and halos phenomena are observed far less frequently because they are usually too faint for our eyes to pick out. Except, of course, when the Moon is full. At its brightest, when the sky is wreathed in an ice-crystal layer of Cirrostratus, the Moon can trace a broad ring of light as a 22 -degree lunar halo, as its silvery glow refracts through the clouds’s tumbling prisms of ice.” Isn’t that a great description!

We had another great celestial opportunity last month when Jupiter and Saturn aligned. It was cloudy here but we were doing yoga on zoom and Ash was in Utah, she tried to show us the alignment, but zoom doesn’t have telescopic resolution. Well I guess we’ll just have to wait another 80 years, in the mean time we can make an intention to notice and observe the world around us. In January, Weaving Home’s theme is stillness or silence. The snow falls without sound, unless the wind is howling, the evergreen branches are coated with ice crystals, glitter in diamond stillness again the winter sky. Stillness gives us an opportunity to observe what is around us and what is within us. Can we notice the ‘tumbling prisms of ice’ that hang from our eaves this time of year, or the crystals on the spruce needles? When we are present with this natural phenomena we are present to the sacred.

John Philip Newell’s new book will be called Sacred Earth, Sacred Soul. In it he explains that for the ancient Celts there was no difference between what was sacred and their everyday life. They believed that in every moment there was a chance to glimpse the wonder and awe all around us. They taught that ‘the birth of a child, any child, not just the Christ child, was not a new light that was coming into the world but a manifestation of the light that was in the earth, a manifestation of the light that was in the sea, a manifestation of the light that was in the sky. The light of the earth, sea and sky danced with the light that was in the child. Every creature, every child and every life form, … a fresh coming of the divine among us.’ Imagine if we are still what will be birthed in us, imagine how a world view of this kind can heal our brokenness and remind us that we are all one.

About the Light

Lucas and I have been learning about different cultures and traditions. This week we are we studying Sweden and the Scandinavian tradition of celebrating Santa Lucia. One story is that St. Lucy was a Christian martyr who died in 304 CE because she had a different way of living out her faith. I believe her actions, of taking food into the catacombs for people who were hiding out and starving, were a very Christian thing to do, but of course I was not part of the power structure of ancient Rome. She became a saint and even though you can hear great Italian opera singing the praise of Santa Lucia, it seems to be mostly celebrated in Sweden. Santa Lucia Day is December 13th., early Scandinavians thought the thirteenth was the shortest day of the year. They were close.

In the Scandinavian tradition, one young girl dresses in a white robe with a red sash and walks around with a crown of lit candles on her head. If she has brothers, they dress in white and carry a star and follow her around, they are called Star Boys. The best part is that the children serve their parents breakfast in bed, the yummy Santa Lucia buns made with saffron and citron. We were going to make them but we don’t have any saffron (which is just an excuse because you can use yellow food coloring). Youtube was quick to point out that battery operated candles are used these days to protect the innocent who would love to walk around with fire on their heads. This is a celebration of light against the darkness, like the solstice festivals.

Before St. Lucia was the center of the celebration, people believed that the darkest day of the year held many dangers; animals spoke, evil spirits loomed so they had to bring light to stand against the darkness. Think of that when you’re singing Silent Night and holding a candle, or watching someone on Youtube sing Silent Night, which will be much safer this year.

Nature, the seasons, has much to teach us, as it did to our ancestors throughout time.

“When we pay attention to the rhythm of the seasons, we learn a great deal about the rise and fall of life, about emptiness and fullness. Spring invites us to blossom forth; summer calls us to our own ripening; autumn demands that we release and let go; and winter quietly whispers to us to rest, to sink into the dark fertile space of unknowing, to relate the demands of productivity and calendars and to-do lists, and simply to be.” Christine Valters Paintner from Earth, Our Original Monastery.

Do you celebrate the darkness or the coming of the light? Do you hibernate when the snow falls or go out and shovel up a storm? Do you let the nature of the season carry you into new ways of knowing, or are you too caught up in the chaos around you? Just some questions for us all to think about. Have a wonderful winter solstice, enjoy the end of Hanukah, Christmas and Kwanza and celebrate life.

November Lessons

November has been an interesting month. We had about eight inches of snow one day, I had to shovel so we could get the car out, so much fun. I tried to remember there is always mindful snow shoveling - it’s all about aligning the movement with the breath. That worked for a while, but the heavy stuff that the plow knocks in the driveway takes so many movements and breaths that you get dizzy.

Later in the month, it seemed like the next week, there was warmth and sunshine, in fact I think the temperatures went into the high 60s even here. Then there was a 10 degree morning everything froze hard, and now it’s warming again. Up and down, what does that remind you of? Oh, life. I always remember what my brother said to me when we moved back from Alaska, ‘November is a hard month because it can’t make up its mind.’ In other words, November forces us once more to live in the discomfort of liminal space, the space between autumn and real winter. A space where the old can be comforting (a blissful autumn), but there is always the chance or the expectation really that the new will begin (winter).

What really hurts us is the loss of the light. It gets dark before dinner, unless we eat at 4 p.m. I guess I’m just not in sync with the November. I don’t go outside much when it’s cold and that causes me to loose connection with nature. That’s interesting because this month we’ve been reading many native American stories that are all about connection to nature. First we read The Legend of Blue Bonnet by Tomie dePaola. What a wonderful story of a young girl who gives up her most precious possession for the people of her tribe. There are so many wonderful stories retold by Joseph Bruchac. I especially liked Fox Song. It’s the story of a little girl who wakes up for the first time in her life without her great grandmother physically present. As she is waking up she remembers the experiences she had with her great grandmother while walking in nature, the taste of the wild blueberries, the feel of the birch tree, the sound of the river.

All these stories remind me of the intimate connection we have with all of creation. My friend Marge told me of a time she was meditating on the beach and how her breathing became like the ebb and flow of the tide. Jamie Sams, another Native American spiritual teacher says that when we connect with the rhythm of the earth, when our heart beats in union with the earth’s rhythm, then wondrous synchronicities will appear in our lives. Maybe I just need to go outside and sit in November for a while, even in the cold, and get in touch with what it’s trying to teach me. Maybe it’s OK to be in a space between, where it’s neither fall nor winter, but a space of just being. Larry Beasley sent me this wonderful quote from Seth’s Blog: “Qarrtsiluni….This is the Inuit word for “sitting together in the darkness, quietly, waiting for something creative or important to occur.” Yes, November darkness has a lot to teach us.

Letting Go or Cutting Off?

The Lesson of the Falling Leaves

by Lucille Clifton

the leaves believe

such letting go is love

such love is faith

such faith is grace

such grace is God

I agree with the leaves

I saw this poem a while ago, while watching the leaves twirling, drifting, floating and then raining to the ground. Mounds of leaves, piles of leaves, millions of leaves all letting go and letting God. Hum, well, then one of my Anam Caras told me that the maple tree secretes a substance when the light start waning and the dark starts winning, that forms a cork like thing where the leaf is attached to the branch. In other words, the leaf really isn’t letting go of its own free will, the maple tree is getting rid of the leaves, cutting them off, because they cannot go through the winter with leaves on their branches. The trees would be susceptible to great damage and even death if they go through winter with leaves. Maples are not evergreens.

This got me thinking about our biases, what we believe and what we think we know. There is a wonderful podcast by the Center for Action and Contemplation called Learning How to See with Brian McLaren, Jacqui Lewis and Richard Rohr that talks about our biases. The first one is confirmation bias. We agree with things that we already believe. For example, I am drawn to people who love the earth and think that caring for the earth is important and our duty as part of the great creation of Love that surrounds us. So when I hear people or books that agree with that, I immediately find a kindred spirit, yes, that’s it, that is the truth! They have confirmed what I already believe.

Biases can become so ingrained that they are part of our emotional system as well, so that no amount of logical, or reasonable argument can change our minds. So confirmation bias is very big in religious and political circles. No matter how we try to persuade someone that our bias is right, unless there is openness and true listening, it’s like talking to a stone wall.

How do I look at the falling maple leaves now that I know they are cut off rather than dropping and letting go gracefully? Will that change how I interpret things? Will it have an effect on my behavior. Since I try and take lessons from nature, what is different between being cut off and letting go?

Surrender is a big word/work in contemplative circles. I surrender (let go of) my attachment to the outcome - like the election, I’ve done what I could, maybe I could have done more, but in the end I have to surrender my attachment to the outcome or make myself sick with worry.

But what would cutting off be? This reminds me of Eckhart Tolle’s teachings. In a recent talk I heard, he was saying to cut ourselves off from the news and mindless TV. This, and other social media, keeps us in a state of anxiety, it brings us into the collective consciousness of a society that is in pain. He wasn’t saying to not be informed, but to cut ourselves off from what is harmful to our consciousness, cut ourselves off from a herd mentality that allows us to stay in a state of chaos. I can understand that, my confirmation bias agrees with him there.

So in this season of darkness, as light decreases and the darkness increases, leave time for contemplation, for discernment and making decisions with an open heart and mind about what to let go of, what to cut off and what to nurture.

If you’re interested in talking about the pod cast Learning How to See we have a group discussing it on zoom. Let me know and I’ll add you to the group. Happy November!

Autumn Outbursts

Recently we went on a trip to visit an organic farm in Otsego county with whom we have a CSA. It was a long trip, the whole length of Herkimer county really, and then some, but it was a beautiful day and the golden rod and purple aster were in full bloom. We bought tomatoes for sauce and saw all the gardens, the lovely open views of the hills and valleys what you don’t get in the Adirondacks unless you climb a mountain.

On the way home I decided to drive by my old house, the house where I grew up. It is a small house on the top of a hill, two acres of land that my father turned into two huge gardens and a nice lawn. I have a picture of my father and me standing in front of what would be one of the gardens. He has a large scythe in his hand and I’m looking up at him adoringly. He is still my favorite of all people on earth, even though he isn’t on earth anymore the way I knew him, he would have been 109 this year. His birthday is near the equinox, the time when we celebrate the equal length of time in daylight and in night. A time for slowing down. A time for letting the frost take the garden without much fight on my part. Though I did get almost of bushel of green tomatoes in before the plants were reduced to mush by the cold. A time of balance - to get our selves in a place of harmony. Letting the business of summer go, and welcoming the cooler days of autumn.

Anyway we drove by my old house, first I was accosted by a sign that said something about Jesus and hell, then many harsh political signs. The driveway was a mess, the garage looked like a hoarder lived there, and well, it just wasn’t like it should be. There goes all those thoughts of peace and harmony.

I planned to go back and pull-up all the signs, make those people move, clean up the yard, bring it back to the way it used to be, even though I know there is no going back. Things do change. But how do I get that feeling of not-nice-person living in my house out of my head? As Eckhart Tolle says this is a reaction, our reactions need to come out of our state of consciousness, or in other words, figure out where that reaction is coming from and deal with it.

I constantly am preaching that we are all one, the earth, its people, all of creation, and yet there is such a disconnect with that thought when a reality hits you that you really don’t like someone, you can’t stand their views, you can’t stand the way they live, you don’t think they are fit for the earth.

This is where meditation comes in, it is only in the silence and stillness of centering down that I can become myself again, my true self, the one that doesn’t need to control everything, own everything, oversee everything according to my small will. Of course, there is a time and a place for dissent and for righting injustices but not without trying to understand and listen deeply to the one we consider the ‘other’.

In a recent email Richard Rohr asked his readers:

“If you will allow, I recommend for your spiritual practice for the next few months that you impose a moratorium on exactly how much news you are subject to—hopefully not more than an hour a day of television, social media, internet news, magazine and newspaper commentary, and/or political discussions. It will only tear you apart and pull you into the dualistic world of opinion and counter-opinion, not Divine Truth, which is always found in a bigger place. Instead, I suggest that you use this time for some form of public service, volunteerism, mystical reading from the masters, prayer—or, preferably, all of the above.         You have much to gain now and nothing to lose. Nothing at all.  And the world—with you as a stable center—has nothing to lose.    And everything to gain.”

That Richard always knows the right, calming things to say. I will tend to my own garden, get it ready for winter, make sure it is mulched and watered so that in the stillness of winter the earth can renew itself and in the spring bring forth new lush life.

The Gift of Volunteers

“As we live into God’s dream, we will rediscover who we truly are and all of creation will be singing.” Richard Rohr daily meditations from CAC 8-26-20

At the end of August, I have already made two quarts and a half of tomato sauce from my garden tomatoes. They are doing very well. What I didn’t expect was the tomato plants that started growing up along with my beans. I certainly did not plant them there. Star calls them volunteers. Little seeds that over wintered in my compost pile, which were spread over the soil and decided that, hey, we’re not dead after all. Those plants are now loaded with plum tomatoes and cherry tomatoes! I can’t imagine that they’ll be ripe before the first frost, but you never know. What we can’t imagine often does not happen, but what we can imagine - well those are our dreams and who can say that a dream won’t become a reality.

I’m reading the reissue of John Philip Newell’s book, A New Ancient Harmony. which came out last year, but has originally been published in 2011. In this wonderful book (I know you’re saying she thinks everything John Philip writes is wonderful) he talks about dreams and about harmony. The dreams he has help him to integrate the western thought in which he was educated with eastern thought as he visited India in the 1990s and met Bebe Griffen. The meeting itself was not momentous, but the after effects were. Seeds were planted, seeds that volunteered in the soil of openness into new ideas created a whole new reordering of his spiritual path. He was already seeing that the way Christianity was focusing, on fall/redemption, was not in line with Celtic Spirituality he loved. There was a disharmony, a disconnect.

For the past three weeks, in his daily meditations, Richard Rohr has been talking about order, disorder, reorder. The steps our consciousness goes through when it runs up against something that is different, that doesn’t fit our usual way of being or thinking. Often a crisis in life will cause chaos and lead us to rethink our lifestyle, our faith, our whole way of being in the world. We all go through these times of change because as we learned from Einstein “we can’t solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them.”

There is so much chaos going on around us. Americans can’t seem to disagree civilly anymore, some of us are seeing for the first time what white supremacy has caused, the virus continues to be in the news, deaths in nursing homes keep rising, some are in despair over the fate of the earth, the change in weather, the destruction of homes by fire or flood, the children being held in captivity by our own government because they are fleeing another country with their parents…the list goes on and on, enough to make us succumb to the chaos and give up.

John Philip reminds us of this ancient harmony, of the Jungian concept of sun- consciousness and moon-consciousness. Moon-consciousness teaches “life’s edges are not so sharply defined, the boundaries are less distinct.” This way of seeing is more about oneness than differentiation. A soft feminine light that teaches us gentleness and tolerance. In sun-like consciousness we are able to see more details, we are able to analyze things and distinguish one thing from the other. What is important is that we walk in harmony. That we intertwine the harmony that exists between these ways of seeing. The moon invites us to remember that our “human journey began as one and that the birth of the earth and its unfolding life are one,” The sun-light consciousness reminds us to revere our ancient traditions, to celebrate what makes us distinct. Being aware of our uniqueness and also aware of our oneness and unity opens us to reorder. When both are united a beautiful song of harmony will begin to heal the land and our hearts. Vegetables will grow in places we think we didn’t plant, and yield more life than we ever imagined.

Lughnasa

Last night I was in the garden picking some squash, they had to be picked because you know how squash get when you leave them for a few minutes, and I saw a small sized cucumber. Well, I’ll pick it tomorrow I said as I left the garden. This afternoon when I went in to pick some young lettuce for a midday salad, the cucumber was still there, relatively small, but next to is was a giant cucumber!  Well giant by my standards, I don’t usually get big cucumbers that are almost a foot long and as big as my wrist around.  I can’t believe I missed that. Then it occurred to me that last night was July 31st and now we are in the season of Lughnasa or harvest. The Celtic Calendar sees August as the beginning of autumn! Oh my, didn’t we just have autumn? But it is harvest time, last week we had a zucchini, broccoli, pea, kale, swiss chard stir fry - this has to be the best garden that I’ve had since I’ve been gardening without my father!! The kale is so plentiful, the pole beans are longer than my hands, and there are a multitude of purple beans and the second crop of purple peas. What is going on out there? 

One thing might be I’m very happy with my garden and keep telling it that it is beautiful, it’s doing a good job. Now in past years my garden has been small and not exactly what I wanted, so I had this garden opinion of lack. But this year, with more room, things can spread out and grow to their potential. Doesn’t that sound like what we want to do with our children, give them room, and let them grow to their potential.  

This reminds me of a recent Matthew Fox book - The Order of the Sacred Earth.  He says: “Creation Spirituality is earthy; it is the earth and on behalf of the earth and honors the earth as an ‘original blessing.’ It also honors our bodies along with other bodies - that of animals, birds, and fishes, and trees, plants, flowers, forests, water - as the sacred and precious entities that they are.”

So in this season of August (or Autumn if you want to call it that), we honor the gifts of the harvest, the fruit of the fields, all the bounty and beauty that surrounds us. And as we enjoy the abundance, we remember that what we harvest belongs to all of us, is a part of all of us, not to be hoarded, but  to be shared and spread around because we are all woven together in a web of infinite love.  

Fox reminds us that “ecological justice is essential for the sustainability of life on Earth.” Interfaith Power and Light has a movie called Come Hell or High Water about the conflict over land mostly owned by African Americans and the corporations that want to take it over. See this link for more information. Interfaith Power and Light Check it out. Enjoy the harvest as you see the awe and wonder of the sacred earth, and spread that joy to all. 

Returning Home Again

This week, a saw two monarchs in my garden.Then later, standing on the porch a monarch was flying from the milkweed patch and then back toward me. I reached out my hand, welcoming this amazing life back to the north. I wanted to jump up and down and shout my babies are back, but really they are the descendants of the monarchs that hatched here in the late summer, early fall. Only those monarchs are the migrators according to National Geographic, they make the trip to Mexico, but it takes generations for them to come back. National GeographicYou can read all about them in that link.

The complexity of the monarch life cycle, the things that need to be in place for it to survive is mind boggling. The late Sallie McFague said in her book The Body of God: “What has evolved (regardless of why or how it occurred) is complex, diverse, intricate beyond our wildest imaginations.”

So monarch survival is amazing, they are still alive after the specific things they need to live, like a milkweed plant, like no wall to stop their tired little wings so that they can get to Mexico. Then that gets us to thinking about the wall and children in detention camps, and then children of color in our country that have a totally different way that society treats them than white children. It is hard to find joy when all these truths are swirling around. Yet we are reminded that we have a responsibility, if we are the called out ones, the ecclesia, those who want to follow a way of life that is modeled after the Christ, or modeled after those teachers who have inspired compassion and love throughout the ages, then we take responsibility to make changes in our culture that will have lasting effects for the healing and reconciliation of the world.

In McFague’s theology of nature, she invites to us frame our lives in such a way that acknowledges that we are “interrelated and interdependent..all of us, living and nonliving, are one phenomenon, a phenomenon stretching over billions of years and containing untold numbers of strange, diverse, and marvelous forms of matter - including our own. The universe is .. a matter bodied forth seemingly infinitely, diversely, endlessly, yet internally one.” The monarchs are a marvelous creation, our relatives, we are all part of the whole.

Joy is one of the divine attributes that empowers us to make a difference, to live in different caring way, to speak the truth in love to power, to change the way we consume so that the future generations can benefit and live on a planet that has breathable air, just societal structures and clean water.