Reflections on flora and fauna sunday: september 8th in the season of creation...

NOTE:  Today is the last day of vacation - the closing of my rest and

reflection retreat, too - and for this I am grateful.  What follows are my notes for this coming Sunday, September 8th - Flora and Fauna Sunday in the new liturgical season called "the Season of Creation" - and I look forward to reconnecting with my faith community after two weeks away.  We will be living into the sacred rhythms of this season for the next six weeks.  If you are in town @ 10:30 am on Sunday, please join us for the feast!

Introduction

This summer some startling things happened:  my precious guitar was stolen AND I was given the gift of this sweet, sweet upright bass.  Once again the war drums are starting to sound in our nation’s capital AND new life is about to be shared within our small family as daughter Jesse moves ever closer to giving birth to our first grandchild.  There was a super abundance of rain in our neck of the woods while fires and draught raged through the Southwest.  Our goofy puppy Lucie began to mature as she celebrated her first birthday and at the ripe old age of 61 I became a student again in my attempt to play my new instrument properly.

 Perhaps you, too have been aware of the ebb and flow of life taking place all around us in ways that are simultaneously challenging and comforting?  In ways that I hardly expected, my heart has been opened this summer to the deep, deep love God has poured into the very soul of creation:  the rhythm of the sun and moon, the birth and death of each season, the sorrows and celebrations of every heart, community and nation.

The ancient Psalmist of Israel – perhaps King David himself – put it like this in the song we know as Psalm 104:  Creator God, how great you are!  You grow the tender grass to feed the cattle. You give us fruits, vegetables and grains to cultivate, wine to share and gladden our hearts, bread to eat and strengthen us – even oil to lotion our skin.  You planted the cedars, grew them tall and strong, and now birds can build nests safely in their branches. Your high mountains are pastures for the wild goats, and even the rock-badgers find a home burrowing in the boulders there.

You gave us the moon which marks the months and the sun which marks the days. At night the young lions roar. At dawn they slink back to their dens to rest as we go off to work until the evening shadows fall once more.  Oh Lord, what a variety you have med in all your wisdom.  Truly the earth is full of your riches.

Do you sense the rhythm of creation in this poem?  The integration of light and dark, shadow with insight, work and rest – even freedom with interdependence – autonomy and community: it is not utopia, mind you, there is clearly predator and prey, yes?  And yet within this sacred rhythm there is a balance where every part of creation has enough for life:  enough food, enough space, enough time, enough freedom and enough community.  One of our communion liturgies puts it like this:  living into God’s truth there is sharing by all so that there is scarcity for none.  Jesus speaks to this sacred rhythm, too when he tells us: “Don’t fuss about what’s on the table at mealtimes or if the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your inner life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the ravens, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job descript-tion, carefree in the care of God. And you count far more. Has anyone by fussing before the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? If fussing can’t even do that, why fuss at all? Walk into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They don’t fuss with their appearance—but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them.  If God gives such attention to the wildflowers, most of them never even seen, don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you?  What I’m trying to do here is get you to relax, not be so preoccupied with getting so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep yourself in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions.

And so we gather again – after vacations and retreats, time away for rest, relaxation and reflection – to consider what does the Lord require of us as servants living faithfully within the rhythm of God’s sacred creation at this moment in time?

Insights

For the next six weeks we will join thousands of others throughout the world in an experiment called “the Season of Creation.”  It is an ecumenical exploration for worship born of a growing concern about our current ecological crisis.  One of the founders of this challenge put it like this:  Our aim… is a joint celebration in which we not only give thanks for creation but also celebrate with creation… to find ways to heal rather than exploit our beloved planet.  So each of the next six weeks will have a theme – today is Fauna and Flora Sunday – and each is designed to help us listen to God’s voice within creation and tradition – and respond in ways that resonate God’s rhythm rather than our own  frenetic and over stressed habits. 

Consider what is being shared with us in Psalm 104:  there is a sacred interdependence taking place here, yes?  All things great and small – in the heavens as well as the land and sea – all flora and fauna move together in ways that strengthen and nourish the whole. Can you think of some examples from your own experience where you have seen this sacred rhythm of interdependence taking place?  Where have you witnessed the joyful dependence of other creatures living in cosmic cooperation in your world?

I have seen it with our puppy who is becoming a real spiritual teacher for me:  she is just a year old and VERY enthusiastic about EVERYTHING.  Left to herself, Lucie would be wild and so totally unfocused that chaos and destruction would follow her everywhere.   Because, you see, after millennia she has become one of our domesticated creatures – one who needs intimacy and order from humans – in order to thrive.  She has love to share – and laughter to bring – heart-break and frustration, too but it must be done within the confines of being a pet rather than a creature of the wild.  And I’ve come to believe that it was part of the Lord’s plan in creation that dogs and people should bond.

·      You see, Lucie needs Dianne and me to help her focus – or stop and practice sitting – so that she doesn’t run out into the traffic to certain death.  She needs us to help bring order to her day – and food to her belly – warmth and shelter to her ever growing body and limits to her boundless energy.

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In return, Lucie gives us unconditional love.  She helps me live in ways that challenge my selfishness and surrender to compassion when I would rather be grumpy and self-centered. You see, I believe that Lucie – and all pets we come to love – help us who live

in relative civilization not only break down some of the barriers between culture and nature but also learn something essential for deep and joyful living:  namely, that it isn’t our individuality that’s so important, it is our relationships.  The Canadian author, James Taylor, put it like this in his Spirituality of Pets:  I think that we humans are not so much individuals as much as we are relationships. It’s not our height, weight or wealth that defines who we are: it’s the range and depth of our relationships. And if we don’t honor and cultivate relationship, then everything and everybody is just something to be used – and ultimately discarded.  That’s one of the sins of our current time:  we treat so much of creation like a thing to be used – and then thrown away – not a relationship but more like a tissue or a rag. 

·      What do you think about that:  am I exaggerating or saying something that sounds true?

·      What are some of the ways our current mode of living breaks relationship with God’s created order?  Can you think of an example of how we have gotten out of balance with the joyful rhythm of creation?

Conclusion

So here’s a suggestion for this week designed to help us all reclaim our relationship with our animal and plant partners and do a little bit – just our part – in restoring some balance.  And it has to do with your dining room table and kitchen:  what would happen if we used each day of the week to help us eat something that comes from the Berkshires?

You know that learning about sustainable agriculture not only helps us build up relationships with the farmers and local merchants in our community, but it also helps us reconnect with the rhythm of the seasons.  Here’s my spiritual practice – I’ll give you a hand-out to take home if you are interested – but the summary goes like this:

·      Each day eat something that comes from the Berkshires:  on Sunday it might be a salad using a local fruit or vegetable; on Monday you could make a soup or stew using some regional ingredients; throughout the week you could find some local eggs for breakfast or some herbs and spices; you might even explore buying some local meat, too.

·      If you are really adventurous and you have the time, you could try baking some bread using ingredients from the Berkshires.  And each night – or morning or noon – before eating you could say this prayer:  Lord God, we thank you for the food that is before us.  Be with us as we return to living in relationship with our world; for this will not only nourish us but help those who come after us in all creation.  In the name of all that is holy we pray.  Amen.

·      What do you think:  would such an experiment be possible?  What would be hard about it for you?  What would be fun?  What do you think we might learn in the process?

We have made a commitment to be servants of Jesus Christ.  In this we look foolish to the world around us:  we care about the connections between people – the relationships that sustain and wound us – we care about the earth and the animals and the plants – we care about war and peace – and hope and forgiveness.  And we have promised NOT to be too busy or self-absorbed to live in the way of the Cross so that others might step out of the rat race, too.  I hope you will choose to be a part of this experiment this week.  In the spirit and presence of Jesus, let me ask you to join with me in prayer:

All loving wisdom of creation, whose joy gives us the feast of this day and whose bounty offers us relationships that nourish, you have connected us to each other in ways we could not have imagined or sought by ourselves.  Today, we remember those who find themselves on the fringes:  those who have fallen ill, who are weakened by hunger, debt or hopelessness.  We remember those who feel lost by grief – or addiction – or ignored by the powers and principalities of our age.  Help us to step back from the busyness for a moment that we might reconnect with your sacred rhythm and bring a measure of joy to those whose lives we touch.  For we seek to be faithful to our Lord Jesus Christ.  Amen.