It is a late-November morning. The dog and I are off for a walk. There are six inches of snow on the ground and the thermometer says it is -17° C. Last Sunday our congregation celebrated the arrival of four new children, so today I’m thinking about durability.
We hold these celebrations twice a year and each time we catch a sixth-month harvest. On these Sundays, a parent will introduce each child. And then either I or my colleague will wrap the little one in a blanket made by the congregation’s quilters. When I perform this ritual, I tuck the infant in one arm, place my other hand on him or her and say something like this:
Welcome into this congregation. We are thankful for you and we rejoice with your family at your presence in this world. May God bless you, may you grow in wisdom, in strength and in right relationship with those around you.
[this essay is now available on the website of the Mennonite Creation Care Network]
[Genesis 2:15-20; Psalm 8]
What are people for?
Some of you will recognize that question from the title of a little book by a farmer-poet. That’s the first place I can recall seeing the matter put this way. It’s a good way to ask the question, isn’t it? What are people for? The question upends things.
We have recently welcomed several new babies into our congregation. At the same time a number of us have said a final “goodbye” to someone we love. And some of us are going through the torturous process of wondering if it is our turn for such a goodbye. Birth and death are the bookends. But what about the time in between, where we all are, soaked in the bliss, the pain, the boredom. What is that? What are people for? Continue reading “Tilling, Working, Naming (174)”
At the church I serve a group of adults has been doing a study on theology and the environment. I’ve been leading other things and have not been able to participate. I wish I could have listened-in somehow. It’s spring here in the lower Ottawa Valley. You would have to make a deliberate decision to avoid thinking about trees and garden plants. The book of Genesis says that God planted a garden with trees that were “pleasant to the sight and good for food.” This time of year that’s not hard to believe. If it’s not true—if it is not the case that in some awesome way a divine mystery has given us plants both beautiful and delicious—then evolution has wrought in us a misdirected instinct. If that transcendent and radically-near event we call ‘God’ has not given us the things of spring, then the beauty we see taking shape, which so readily evokes divine awareness in people of all creeds, has pointed us in the wrong direction. Continue reading “To Till and Keep—Sketching an Environmental Ethic”