Song of Creation

Each Saturday morning for the last three weeks, a small group of church-goers have been hiking in the wet and wild woods for Rugged Spirituality. Professor Scott Angus is adept at guiding us through the trails and pointing out various geological, historical, and ecological features of each hike. While navigating the terrain, we listen to stories, answer soul-stirring questions, and listen to the voices of nature speak to us.

Our last hike was particularly muddy and wet. At one point many of us asked Scott if were still on the trail or if we missed a turn and were hiking in the creek. As our conversation slowed while we focused on our footing, I was struck by how alive the mud was. It was crawling with worms, frogs, and even a turtle! My son Ahmmit was with us that day and, as an unreserved 5th grader, he picked up all the squishy, slimy things along the way so we could all have a closer look.

As we continue with our worship series, Sacred Earth, Sacred Work, I hope that we might find ways to cultivate our child-like curiosity and reverence for creation. I hope we might develop an eye to see the worm in the mud or the turtle in the grass. I hope we might take the time to listen to their songs and consider their plight in the world that we alter with our action and inaction alike.

Today, I’m reminded of Psalm 148 (reimagined by Nan Merrill) that sings in part:

“Give praise to the Beloved, all the earth,

All that swim in the deep, and all the winged ones in the air!

Give praise all mountains and hills, all trees and all minerals!

Give praise all four-legged and all that creep on the ground!

Leaders of nations and all peoples, young and old, Give praise!

Unite together in all of your diversity, that peace and harmony might flourish on earth!”

May we remember we are bound in shared destiny and that being one another’s keeper includes even the squishy, muddy creatures. What is the song of creation singing to you today?

With Grace and Peace,

Pastor Lauren

Everything Doesn't Happen for a Reason

...but some things do. On Sunday, Jerry McGinty-Gayer consecrated communion and reminded us that even though things happen in our world that are not of God, some things are.

When Jesus shared the Passover meal with his disciples, he knew the end was near. He knew that this might be his last opportunity to give a lasting gift to the ones he loved. So, he gave them a ritual, gave them a gift that has been passed down to us through our family of faith.

Since Jerry reminded us that some things are for a reason, my spirit has been stirred and I have been looking for the intentionality of God this week. I have seen God in meetings and in classes. Noticing how someone may ask something that someone else in the space knows something about. From my window at home this week, I watched a dog jump the fence and watched as immediately a group of kids playing in the park ran to help it return home. On a day I was feeling a little down, I got a letter in the mail that picked me right back up again.

During times when it seems sorrow surrounds us and we question what is happening our world, may we remember that some things do happen for a reason. Let us look for God who is within us and by our side. So I ask, where has God spoke to you this week? What are some of things that have happened for a reason in your life?

Don't Give Up!

Last week, I shared one of my favorite poems: Wild Geese by Mary Oliver. Recently, Adrrie Kusserow wrote her own version of this poem.

As you read, think about how you might rewrite this poem during these times. What message do you have for yourself? What message do you have for the world? What might you let go of and what might you remind yourself of?

Mary Oliver for Corona Times
(Thoughts after the poem Wild Geese)
by Adrie Kusserow

You do not have to become totally zen,
you do not have to use this isolation to make your marriage better,
your body slimmer, your children more creative.
You do not have to “maximize its benefits”
by using this time to work even more,
write the bestselling Corona Diaries,
or preach the gospel of ZOOM.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body unlearn
everything capitalism has taught you,

(That you are nothing if not productive,
that consumption equals happiness,
that you are at your best when you resemble an efficient machine).

Tell me about your fictions, the ones you’ve been sold,
and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world as we know it is crumbling
Meanwhile The News barks at you, harsh and addicting.

Meanwhile a new paradigm is composing itself in our minds,
could birth at any moment if we clear some space
from the same tired hegemonies.
Remember, you are allowed to be still as the white birch,
stunned by what you see.

Even if your life looks nothing like the Sabbath,
your stress boa-constricting your chest.
Know that your antsy kids, your terror, your shifting moods,
your need for a drink have every right to be here,

remind yourself over and over,
all the swells and storms that run through your long tired body
all have their place here, now in this world.
It is your birthright to be held
deeply, warmly in the family of things,
not one cell left in the cold.

May you know that you are enough no matter what your days look like in these times. Remember to reach out to friends, family, and your pastors if you are wanting some company or are in need of being reminded of your importance in our family.

Just Be Your Own Beautiful Self

One of my favorite poets is Mary Oliver. Every morning, Oliver would go outside to welcome the sunrise, listen to the birds, and wake up alongside the natural world. She disciplined herself to writing every day, her observations of nature guiding her poetry. One of her most famous poems is Wild Geese, a poem that she says just came to her one still morning. Today, read this poem and let it seep into your soul. What comfort do you find in these words today? What challenges you? What gives you hope?

Wild Geese, Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

May you find peace, and grounding this day and this weekend. May you find assurance that you are a unique expression of God and you have an important place in the family of things.