Through Stained Glass: Advent Word a Day--Mountains

 Mountains

It isn't uncommon for me to overthink these writing prompts. For instance, I just wrote a 600+ word piece about the significance of mountains in Scripture. Mainly about the mountains referenced in today's Isaiah reading.

While I'm not a social media influencer, I know enough that our attention span is short. We don't want novels but snippets – so I scratched what I had and am attempting to write a molehill worth of content instead of a mountain's worth.

To write about mountains in Illinois while not making a molehill into one is challenging.

Insert a joke here about Illinois and beans and corn and flat fields.

I could go take a photo of Elkhart Hill. Or take a selfie in front of a "Mount Pulaski" sign. But it's windy out, and my schedule prevents me from leaving Lincoln today.

Instead, I'll tell you this: of all the landscapes, mountains are my favorite. Something about their rugged presence draws primal, wild energy from me. I love how peaks cause my eyes to look upward! I love how moody they can be. I love how majestic and mysterious they are! Mountains are both intimidating and inspiring! I love how some produce their own weather systems and their wild ecological environments.

I love that our ancestors from across the religious spectrum established temples and other worship sites atop them to be closer to the Divine. I love the stories about Moses and Mount Sanai and the story of Jesus' transfiguration on Mount Tabor. And how Elijah met the Holy One in a cave on the side of Mount Horeb. I love how our Eastern Orthodox siblings incorporate mountains in icons, inviting viewers into the reality of their transfigured humanity. I love how mountains represent God's transcendence and Her immanence. I love those Rocky Mountains out west and those ancient, rolling ones in the Highlands of Scotland.

In today's Isaiah text, which is the same as this last Sunday's, I love that the journey up the mountain of The Living God is to receive instructions in divine ways. I love that the mountain in this scene represents not only a place of worship but also a place for education! And I love that from those instructions they receive on that mountain comes a hopeful vision of God's longing for the world – peace among the nations.

I love what Mircea Eliade said about mountains:

The symbolic and religious significance of mountains is endless.

Finally, I love that I read this poem today. I've read poems from this book every day for the last 41 days. How cool is it that I read this poem on the day with the word 'mountain'? It is safe to say that I love art inspired by mountains.

Through Stained Glass: Advent Word a Day--Teach

In her book "Freeing Jesus," Diana Butler Bass notes that "Of the ninety or so times Jesus is addressed directly in the New Testament, roughly sixty refer to him as 'teacher,' 'rabbi,' 'great one,' or 'master' (as in the British sense of 'schoolmaster')." (page 29)

Teach

The timber of Logan County has become my sanctuary. As I mentioned in my first Advent post, I go to the woods to empty myself of all the thoughts in my head. At Kickapoo Park, we must cross a field to get to the trail the dogs, and I take. As we go, Chloe usually stops and rolls, a ritual I adore. Tecumseh puts his nose to the ground and inspects who has gone before us. And I breathe: inhaling God's mercy and exhaling my anxiety. We go slow enough for me to release whatever distractions and leave them among the fallen leaves.

The woods teach me about the world's aliveness [yes, that reads/sounds strange, but it is intentional]. Even here in little ole Lincoln, Illinois, and Logan County. The woods teach me about my connection to the living world around me. How my decisions impact the local ecology – I learn about my interconnectedness to this living place.

One of my teachers in the woods is the Whitetail Deer. I encounter them at both Kickapoo and Madigan. I meet them more viscerally at Madigan. The trails go deep into the timber, often unvisited by creatures like me. In the thicket during this time of year, the Deer teach me about community. November is a busy month for Deer. The Does are foraging for food, fattening up for winter – coming into estrus/rut in the fall. Bucks set out as solitary travelers in November, ranging their claimed territory and marking it profusely. His actions are reckless as male Deer engage in sparring matches and advertise their virility.

The rut season, coming from the Latin term for 'roar,' is a multi-sensory experience. Does recognize the Bucks' behavior and chooses the one that will give them strong fawns. They seek Him. He chases them. In the twenty-four-hour window when a Doe will mate, she and the Buck of the moment enact a ritual of motion, touch, sound, and scent before coming together.

Their vigorous and elaborate dance engrosses Whitetail Deer in early Advent. [1] After this dance, they rest briefly, eat little, move, and move some more, driven to re-create themselves.

The Woods – Creation – teaches me about God's re-creation. God calls us to participate in the renewal and transformation of the world. The Woods teach me it takes a village to bring about life. But the Woods, especially the Deer, teach me about community. When the rut is over, the Deer huddle back together. They regroup – Bucks together, Does together – and, before deep snow hobbles them, follow memory's thread to white cedar swamps, where the cover of the trees and bushes provide them shelter and protection.

Today is Giving Tuesday. I give thanks to God for First Presbyterian Church of Illinois. You all continue to teach me about God's love, Christ's mercy, and the Spirit's imagination. I go to the woods to learn about the world's aliveness; I also go into your presence to experience the fullness of God's love. Your hearts, hands, and resources continue to bring God's love to Lincoln and Logan County, making up just a beautiful portion of the tapestry of this part of creation.

If you would like to give to our ministry this Giving Tuesday, you can do so here on our website. 

  [1] Gayle Boss. "All Creation Waits." Paraclete Press: Brewster, MA, 2016,) page 14.

Through Stained Glass: Advent Word a Day: Together

 

Our students collaborated together to create their tree
for the City of Lincoln's Tree festival. Read below about
another opportunity for us to come together! 

Together. 

Things are better when we do them together.

Such a cliché statement – but goodness, isn't it true?

Early in my professional career, I learned that I can't do all the things alone. I can, but no one benefits from an exhausted pastor burning the candle at both ends. Collaboration is essential to me and to ministry. We need each other because we all have gifts to share with the world.

I wonder, though – how do we know we have a gift? Or what those gifts might be?

The easiest way to discover our gifts begins by listening – to our lives and to the lives of others. [Thanks, Frederick Buechner, for that great line.]

When we engage in this type of listening – alone and together – we will feel the call of God tugging on our hearts. We share this tugging – or, since it is Advent – this longing with one another, and together, we discern what God is revealing in our lives. From there, we open our hands to the Trinity's generative spirit and begin nurturing our hope for our lives.

Together.

One of the best parts of my gig as a pastor is connecting people with each other. It gladdens my heart to see strangers become friends and friends become family. I love it when we work together and create opportunities for community.

Like, what happened this last week.

It is time for our annual Christmas caroling event. Our Director of Music and Arts reached out to me and asked if Sunday, December 18, right after worship, would be a good time to go caroling. As I was preparing to respond to him, Becca Brant reached out to me and shared her plan to have an open house at her house on December 18 from 12:30 until 3:00 pm. Immediately the idea came to mind that I need to get David and Becca together so they can work together in a way that combines caroling and an open house. 

Here's what our two friends came up with:

On Sunday, December 18, at 11:00 am, we will gather in the CE Building for caroling until 12'ish. Then we will have a little break until 12:30 pm when the Brants open their house up for us to share in the Advent & Christmas spirit together until 3:00 pm. 

Note: the open house is for ALL church members, not just the carolers! The Brant's address can be found in the weekly emails and church bulletin. 

I am grateful for David's gift of music.

I am grateful for the Brants' gift of hospitality.

I am grateful that we, as a church family, get to experience them together on Sunday, December 18.

Through Stained Glass: Advent Word a Day: Walk

 

Deer 1

Same spot, Deer 2 on my Sunday walk. I thought I was snapping a
photo of the same Deer! Instead, I got two different ones. 

After the sermon[s] are preached.

After the meetings are done. 

After the doors have been locked.

But before I read next week's Scripture.

But before I write the liturgy for Sunday.

But before I look at what meetings I have this week ...

I go for a walk.

A slow one. With Chloe and Tecumseh. In the summer, we go to Kickapoo. In the winter -- or on days like today -- we go to Madigan. And we saunter through the woods, sometimes on those made by us, most of the time wandering the runs created by the Deer. 

Today was special. The muted greens and browns created a softness felt not only on our feet but on our faces. The recent rain silenced crunchy leaves, and we could move almost as quietly as the Deer we were inadvertently chasing. 

Almost*

It never ceases to amaze me how quietly the Odocoileus virginianus can move so quickly and quietly through thick timber. I only know they are present because:

1. I see the flash of their whitetail

2. Tecumseh's body language changes -- a saunter becomes an urgent pace investigating everything! 

On Sundays, after the service but before it begins again, I head to the woods to listen. I walk with my trusty companions, attentive to their breathing and pace -- usually a slow trot, but always with their noses to the ground. The silence of the woods -- the singing of the Birds and the whispering of the Trees -- disrupts the narratives in my head. They bring me back to the moment -- to the now -- to the first incarnation -- the first revealing of the Holy Three's love. 

Today's Advent word is 'walk.' Of course, it comes from Isaiah 2: 

O house of Jacob,

    come, let us walk

in the light of the Lord!

In Illinois, we don't have mountains. We don't have any hills that could be confused with mountains. What we do have are Trees -- and Deer -- and spaces wide enough to see for miles! I guess that's why I go to the Woods with the Dogs. Because it is a way for me to take the prophet up on their invitation to walk in the light of the Living God. A walk in the Woods -- on Deer runs or marked trails -- reminds me of my part in this story we call life. Creation -- those Woods and them Deer -- remind me of God's longing: that we know wholeness. 

I think John Calvin was onto something when he wrote:

“There is not one blade of grass, there is no color in this world that is not intended to make us rejoice.”

After the sermon is preached

but

Before I write the next one 

I go on a walk and join the other creatures in the feasts of Creation.