"Bless the Lord, O my soul. My God you are great, You are clothed with the energy of atoms as with a mantle from a cloud of whirling cosmic dust… as on the potter’s wheel you began to tease out the whorls of the galaxies… the gas escaped from your fingers condensing and burning….. you were fashioning the stars. You made a splatter dash of planets like spores or seeds and scattered comets like flowers….." Ernesto Cardenal

Today has been set aside as Blog Action Day….a day when bloggers are encouraged to write about the environment and what threatens it. This is not a new concept. As people, we are fascinated by the idea of what might happen if a really large number of people set an intention toward something…..peace….awareness…..healing…..whatever, and everyone participates at the same time. There have been sit-ins, marches, and now a form of this same kind of action has arisen in the realm of technology, on what is known as the ‘blogisphere’. From the spiritual viewpoint, those who study such things, say there can be actual, measurable shifts in energy when large groups of people pray at the same time. I am sure I have been the recipient of that kind of focused prayer and I am grateful for it. It will be interesting at the end of the day to hear what people will say has shifted, has changed, has been opened as a result of this ‘blogging intention.’ For what it is worth…here are my two cents.

It all begins with awe. That’s how I see it. That’s how the sacred writings begin, isn’t it? This incredible story of God’s creating the Universe…from darkness and chaos….to beauty and light….is where we begin. It is where all human stories begin, Judeo-Christian or not, with a story of awe and amazement. After the act of creating, the Holy One declares the Creation to be very, very good. As a part of that Creation story humans are introduced into the mix and given a responsibility as caretakers…….of plants, animals, things that fly, things that creep, the soil and sand, the air and water….all of it. Not as consumers or rulers but as cosmic parents, if you will…..those who nurture, support, encourage growth, protect, adore, love beyond measure. When we look around, hear and see the impact of global warming, the reality is that we have not been very good parents.We’ve been neglectful, abusive, squandering our inheritance,the gift entrusted into our care. We have closed our eyes, our hearts, our minds to the state of original awe.

I walked into a hospital room this week and witnessed two parents holding a young one only hours new to the world. What look, what emotion, was etched across their face? Awe…amazement. Looking down at this beautiful, unbelievable miracle, their faces were full of deep awe. I came to stand in the circle of that same awe, suspended in the amazing circle of Creation that continues to happen each and every day with newborns, with season changes, with the rising of the Sun.

If this is the place we begin, how can we continue to act as we have been? These invisible lines of connection that hold us together in the great Web of Life ask us to stand in awe….and to then act to preserve, to nurture, to support and to love beyond measure. To do so may very well make all the difference in the world.

"I have come to terms with the future. From this day onward I will walk easy on the earth. Plant trees. Kill no living thing. Live in harmony with all creatures. I will restore the earth where I am. Use no more of its resources than I need. And listen, listen to what it is telling me." M.J.Slim Hooey

"The reason mountain climbers are tied together is to keep the sane ones from going home."

This anonymous quote arrived this past week on a bookmark sent out by the Minnesota Council of Churches. I read it over several times discerning its meaning. I knew my heart was drawn to it but I needed my head to catch up. Since I cannot imagine myself ever mountain climbing, I needed to put it in a context I could understand. It did not take long. It is something I think each of us do most every day. We awaken with the sun and tie ourselves to one another and head out into the world. In our families….in our work….in our country…in the world. We tie ourselves together and pray that when we are frightened or frustrated, when we are weary or wise, when we are joyful and just, we can pull one another along.

Our oldest son who is in college has taken up rock climbing, which I realize is different from mountain climbing. As a parent who is far away from observing this new found physical challenge(not that I could watch), I do know that it involves harnesses and ropes….and climbing with other people. This child who was always at the top of every jungle gym, without a fear of falling, sometimes jumping to the horror of other adults around, has taken to putting his faith in the safety of ropes and friends to scale rock walls. May God continue to keep him sure of foot and balance.

And isn’t that our real prayer as we head out into the challenges of each day……that we are held by the invisible ropes of those around us, that we have the strength and courage to hold others, that nothing comes our way that can’t be solved collectively with the creativity, sweat, faith,imagination and commitment of our fellow ‘world travelers’? Isn’t it our deepest prayer that we need each other so much that we will find a way to solve our differences, share our wisdom,our resources and our hope? And through it all God will keep us sure of foot and balance?

There is so much that could and does divide us. But I continue to hold out hope that in the midst of all this, the Spirit will move through our conversations, our arguments, our rhetoric, our fears, and remind us that we are indeed tied together. And in that moment we will tug the rope and give the signal that says " let’s go….I’m holding you…let’s climb."

"Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common;…Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day God added to their number."  Acts 2:43-47

Have a wonderful weekend…………………….

I have always felt the living
presence

of trees the forest that calls to me
as deeply

as I breathe,as though the woods
were marrow of my bone

as though I myself were tree,

a breathing, reaching arc of the larger
canopy

beside a brook bubbling to foam

like the one deep in these woods,

that calls that whispers home

                                    Michael S. Glaser

Tuesday morning there was a lovely article in the Star Tribune called simply ‘Divine Shelter’. It told the story of a young Polish-born Jewish boy who escaped the death march to Auschwitz and found a home with a family in Czechoslovakia. Though he lived in the attic of the family’s home, at the sound of the approaching army, he would hide in the trunk of a hollowed out thirty-three foot high birch tree…..once for nine hours. Having survived the horror of those times, the now eighty-three year old man lived to see the tree that held his life named a ‘righteous tree’ in Israel’s Holocaust memorial in Jerusalem. Jakob Silberstein said, while in the tree he found hope by looking up to the open sky from the confines of the carved birch. "I had someone protecting me from above".

The family who had hidden Jakob had always held the tree in sacred trust, never entering it, never allowing harm to come to it. They held his story, his life and the life of the tree in their care. What a blessed responsibility!

These days we are all witness to the changing life of trees. As vibrant colors turn to brown, as oak and birch leaves let go their firm grip on life, giving in to gravity, do you ever wonder what life the trees you watch have saved? Do you ever wonder if a marriage proposal was offered under the spreading branches? Did someone lean against the firm trunk struggling for a last breath? Whose strong, nimble legs climbed toward the highest branches to declare themselves "King…or Queen..of the World?" What young family spread a blanket, laid an infant down for a nap and watched the slow,steady rise and fall of its chest with vigilant gaze?

Like Jakob Silberstein, perhaps others have had their lives saved by a ‘righteous tree’. If not an actual tree, I am certain we have experienced "Divine Shelter." As the leaves float softly to the awaiting ground, may we have the grace to offer thanks for all those people and places that provide a safe place for us….those that ‘whisper home.’

"Light our way, O God of the living. May we learn to see with new eyes." 
             David Haas, from Morning Hymn

I have been out of  the "beam of civilization" for a few days which is to say….where there was no Internet service…and have been unable to write these reflections. It is an unusual experience to disconnect in this way. But now that I am "reconnected" I want to share a  ‘first’ for me.

I wrote last week about the upcoming Blessing of the Animals service that happened this past Sunday. It was a glorious event, many beautiful dogs of all shapes and sizes, also several cats, one in particular who filled every silence with its magnificent voice.There were two sweet little mice in a pale, pink screened lunch box shaped carrier. But the highlight for many of us was the gecko named Peppy.

Peppy arrived with his family…Mom, one boy and two girls. He came to church in small Tupperware container with air holes punched in the top. I was told it was his ‘traveling container’ and that at home he lived in a much different home.  Peppy and his family were first time guests and seemed to be having a lively wonderful morning.

Let me be clear. I am not a great fan of most reptiles. I am skittish about their ability to move fast, their ‘sliminess’.  So when I greeted Peppy and his family, under normal circumstances, I would have been fairly anxious.  Peppy sat right behind me during the entire worship service. I observed the way he was lovingly held by his boy. I watched Mom gently hold Peppy during the singing of a hymn as she helped the girls count the number of times we sang "Alleluia!". I was amazed by Peppy’s body as it clung to the boy’s finger and watched as the boy brought Peppy toward his face until they were nose-to-nose, eye-to-eye. Certainly this reptile was unlike others I had met……this reptile was loved unconditionally and was a treasured part of this family.

As the family brought Peppy forward for a blessing, the boy placed Peppy in my outstretched hand just as he had seen others do with their dogs and cats. The boy expected, without saying so, that Peppy would be as welcome in my hands as the other furry creatures had been. As Peppy crawled onto my finger, the family gathered around my open palm. "Peppy, may God bless you all your days and may you always be a faithful companion" I spoke these words and watched the smiles break across their faces. Peppy seemed to lift his lidless eyes toward me…..or was it just my imagination? Perhaps it was I who was being blessed…….. By this sweet family who love this strange little lizard, who see his beauty, his uniqueness, his place in the family of God.

All I know for sure it that I held a gecko…..and I was not afraid. I was joyful.

"I sing praise to You, my Lord, for all You have made, Especially for Brother Sun,Who brings the day and through whom You give us light." St. Francis of Assisi, 1181-1226

"The heavens are telling the glory of God and all Creation is shouting for joy. Come dance in the forest, come play in the field, and sing, sing to the glory of the Lord." These are the words we will sing this Sunday as we celebrate the Blessing of the Animals. The first Sunday of October is nearest to the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of animals, birds and the environment. It has been our practice for several years now to open our doors and, as one person said, "invite the WHOLE family" to church. It is a glorious day in our sanctuary as dogs, cats, birds, guinea pigs, ferrets, snakes, spiders…..and oh, so many others, accompany their humans to worship.

We have found over the years that it is a particularly moving service for so many. I especially am moved as I hear the stories of the animals, as told by those who speak words, of how there has been joy, suffering, healing, and companionship between these animals and their owners. I am equally touched when a person brings the ashes of their pet to be blessed before they find their final resting place.There is great laughter in the service as well…..dogs love to join in the singing, cats are not shy about displaying their distaste of the canines, birds let their voices rise when the organ reaches a crescendo, and sometimes they form a choir to let the humans know….enough with the talking!

In the past we have hosted penguins(they rode in a refrigerated case), horses, a parade of helping dogs, llamas,camels, giraffes,cows, pigs,sheep, donkeys, even elephants.But my most vivid memory was what I now refer to as "The Year of the Yak."

We were focusing that year on the animals new to Minnesota and had learned that, with our growing Tibetan Buddhist community, there was actually a yak farmer who brought the magnificent animals to gatherings so people could get to know them. The plan was that during our final hymn , "All Creatures of the Earth and Sky", the yak and his handler would process down our center aisle and we would visually feast on the beauty and power of this animal held holy by our newest residents. (As I write this I can feel my blood pressure rise.)

The organ began…the people sang….the dogs howled….the farmer and the yak began their walk down the aisle. I don’t claim to be particularly intuitive when it comes to animals but standing in the front of the sanctuary, I looked into the eyes of this huge, horned beast, and said to myself "something is amiss". The yak processed with tentative dignity. The handler seemed in control but somehow I still felt uneasy. They continued down the aisle as people turned to behold the sheer beauty and size of this animal. Then my eyes fell on the front row where the Great Dane sat, regal, calm and sure that, indeed, it was the largest creature in the space…….until now. As the yak handler reached the end of the aisle, Yak and Dane looked into one another eyes. I looked into the eyes of the handler and we both knew….the best thing to do was to  make as gracious an exit as there had been an entrance. Turning the sleek, brown, beast around, they walked slowly out of the sanctuary. Humans took a collective breath, dogs settled back, cats peeked out, and we finished the last line of the hymn…..Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

To be fair, it seems the yak had had an unfortunate encounter with another animal on its way to our church and so was not in a very good mood. This Sunday we will gather with great joy, to celebrate the wonder of all God’s creatures, large and small. We will offer blessings and gratitude for the gifts of these animals as our companions, our amazement and our delight. And we will raise our voices together singing "Alleluia!"

Have a blessed weekend…………..

Belgium.
Who would have thought the green beans I was eating came from…..Belgium?! Over
the last year I, like many others, have become aware of where my food actually
is grown and the fossil fuels it takes to get it to my table. This realization
began for me as I was listening to Bill McKibben on the radio while eating by
usual lunch of salad. It was March or April, I can’t remember, but certainly
not lettuce growing season in Minnesota.I don’t remember the exact statistics but it went something like “for every
calorie your body takes in from the lettuce you eat, 30 calories of carbon fuel
brought it to you.” Frankly, I don’t have any idea about the measurement of
fossil fuels…..all I know is that it seems like a pretty large trade off in the
grand scheme of things.

 So this summer when I started reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, I began to
think seriously about where my food comes from and how I can be more responsive
to the environmental impact of how I eat. It can be a fascinating and
compulsive practice. It also seems to me that, in the often overwhelming and
powerless pursuit of halting…or at least slowing global warming, this is
something concrete I, a regular person living a regular life, can do. I can be
aware of where my food comes from, trying to buy as local or regional as
possible, trying to lessen my carbon footprint. It seems a reasonable thing to
do.

 Which brings me to the green beans. All last year my family
came to love some steam-in-the-bag green beans I buy at Target. They are
lovely, thin, sweet green beans, ready in 6 minutes. The implication is that
they were plucked from the vine, bathed in cold water, frozen and so retain
most of their nutrients….just like fresh picked.

 Fresh picked is what
we had been eating all summer but their season is ended. So I went to the frig
on Monday and grabbed the freezer to microwave package, threw them in and
punched in six minutes. As I bustled around the kitchen putting the rest of
dinner on the table, I could see the bag expanding, steaming those luscious
beans. The bell rang….finished….steamed. I plucked the bag from the microwave,
carefully cutting the bag open with scissors so as not to be burned from the
escaping hot air….Belgian air. That’s when my eyes fell on the words: Product
of Belgium. I felt sick. For all the nutrients, all the sweetness, all the
greenness, was it worth it? I think not. As for our family, we will have to
find a different source for our green beans this winter.

“At its heart, a genuine food culture is an affinity between people and
the land that feeds them."  Barbara
Kingsolver

I have just finished reading Barbara Brown Taylor’s book Leaving Church: a memoir of faith. I believe I may have mentioned this book here before. To be honest it is a book that has taken me over a year to read….mostly because I found it threw the mirror up too closely to my face, exposing many things I haven’t wanted to look at or examine. All that said, it is a powerful look at someone who has given much of her life to the work of the Church and how that changed who she is and now who she is becoming.

In the final chapter she tells of being introduced at a church gathering with the words:"Tell us what is saving your life now." Now there is a statement that stops a person in their tracks! (Note to self….always ask the person who is introducing you for a hint about what they might say.) Brown Taylor goes on to say that it was such a significant question that she has continued the practice of asking others that question as she continues to search for her own answers.

Pointing out that most of us can make long lists of what is "killing us"…..stress, the pace of our lives, grief, fear, envy, hopelessness….the list goes on. But what is "saving us"? Unfortunately in the church we have packed the word "salvation" into a pretty tight…and small…box. Much of the time many of us shy away from even using the word because of its constricting definition. But the reality is that what is saving us….what is making us whole…what is moving us closer to the radiance of our relationship with the Holy…is present and deserves our voice and our gratitude.

While I continue to live into this question, I invite you to do the same. Here are Barbara Brown Taylor’s ‘acts of salvation’. Maybe hers will help jog our minds and move us to that place of deep gratitude."Teaching school is saving my life now. Living in relationship with creation is saving my life now.Observing Sabbath is saving my life now. Encountering God in other people is saving my life now. Committing myself to the task of becoming fully human is saving my life now."

Perhaps today is the day to stop giving energy to the list of those things that are ‘killing us’ and begin instead to name those things that are saving us. Salvation…wholeness…humanness….holiness…..maybe they are closer than we think.

"What we are all more or less lacking at this moment is a new definition of holiness."
       Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

I often say that it is an ‘occupational hazard’ that I read the obituaries every morning in the newspaper. Often I will recognize a name of a former church member, someone I have known in another part of their life and mine, and I will send a blessing for their living, for their family. Still other times, a sad situation will present itself, where a member of our large church dies and no one has notified us that they are ill, we have lost the connection that would make that so, and we have not been present to them in these times. So many emotions crowd into that space.

But often I read them out of curiosity and as a personal reminder of my own human-ness, my own mortality. I am most interested in what words people choose to describe the life of their loved one. Most times the obituary says as much about those who wrote it as it does about the one who has passed on. Which seems logical, right, important, somehow, for they are the ones doing the grieving, the remembering.

In describing the life of one young woman, her family said she was "dragged kicking and screaming into the hereafter." I have always remembered that. It spoke of her tenacity, her spunk, and their huge loss in such a vibrant way. Still others write of their loss of all kinds of physical battles with cancer, with chronic illnesses, with depression. I imagine the journey they have all traveled together…the lessons learned, the growth that has happened, the anger that has lived in their presence, the resolutions they have endured.

Today I read:"No memorials;only ask that you give a smile to the next person you see." I am looking right now at the photo of someone I have never met…this person who through her death has invited me into the life she tried to live, into the simple way she walked upon the earth. How can I not respond?

Her simple wish reminded me of an anonymous poem I have read at funerals from time to time. "When I die if you need to weep cry for your brother or sister walking beside you. And when you need me, put your arms around anyone and give them what you need to give me. I want to leave you something, something better than words or sounds. Look for me in the people I’ve known or loved and if you cannot give me away, at least let me live in your eyes and not on your mind. You can love me most by letting hands touch hands, by letting bodies touch bodies, and by letting go of children that need to be free. Love doesn’t die, people do. So when all that’s left of me is love, give me away."

We walk through our days, through our living, with the memories …..and the spirits…. of those we’ve loved and those others have loved, moving all around us. Today, I will be walking and offering a smile…..because someone invited me to do so….with her living.

For the last three weeks I have been leading a class on Sunday evenings on the topic of hospitality as a spiritual practice. In the early planning for this class, another of our ministers pointed out that the Greek word "xenos" means "stranger, guest and host"…….one word, three fairly distinct meanings, at least in our culture. This definition, and its seemingly diverse meanings,  has led to some lively discussions both in my class and in other conversations.

How often do you consider yourself a "stranger"? What does that word conjure up for you? Most often people respond with words like….fear, anxiety, protection. Most of us don’t choose to put ourselves in situations where we are the stranger or will encounter the stranger.

What about "guest"? Do you enjoy being a guest? Or does it bring discomfort for the expectation in implies?Do you enjoy having guests at your home, your table, in your work place? How do you prepare your home…and your heart…for the guest? Is it different from the way you prepare for the stranger?

Then there is "host". Do you enjoy being a host or does it carry with it some of the same anxieties that encounters with strangers might bring?

How we answer these questions depends on so many things……whether we are introverts or extroverts, our age, our sex, our family background, and countless other factors. But make no mistake about it, the scriptures do call us to be welcoming to one another, whether stranger, guest or host. Matthew writes:"
"I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink. I was a stranger and you welcomed me." Or I was a guest and you welcomed me…..or a host.

Perhaps the gift of this multiple meaning is that in reality we are always one of these…stranger, guest,  host…in all our daily living. We are guests on this Sacred planet. We are hosts to the presence of one another. We are strangers sometimes to ourselves. But in these relationships that have give and take, push and pull, we do a dance that mirrors our human connection with the Ground of All Being…..the Holy who welcomes us and is home for us.

Xenos…..who would have known that this small Greek word could have such power and such attraction?