June 12, 2024
Yellowstone Musings – Deep time
Psalm 77
77:17 The clouds poured out water; the skies thundered; your arrows flashed on every side. 77:18 The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind; your lightning’s lit up the world; the earth trembled and shook. 77:19 Your way was through the sea, your path, through the mighty waters; yet your footprints were unseen. 77:20 You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.
Vicky and I recently hosted our older son and his family, visiting from Montana where they have lived for several years. We delight in having our twin 7-year-old grandchildren, born in Montana, here in the Southern Appalachians, a biome quite different from theirs! They refer to our home as being in the “forest” and are fascinated with the profusion of green this time of year. We also enjoy visiting Montana, which we have come to love.
A while back, we visited Yellowstone Park, and our journey from Billings to Yellowstone took us into the Beartooth Mountains by way of the eponymous highway, a spectacular drive. The Beartooth Mountains are composed of Precambrian and metamorphic rocks, dated at approximately 4 billion years old. Expansive plateaus are found at altitudes in excess of 12,000 feet. With miles of alpine meadows where no meadows should be—a lovely plateau atop a mountain range—one begins to sense that the normal “rules” of geology don’t apply here. The Beartooth have over 300 lakes and waterfalls.
June 5, 2024
After the Boston Marathon bombings several years ago, a friend asked me whether, as a veteran of the marathon, I would make a public statement about the events there, and whether I would return to Boston. And, she asked me if the bombings would deter me from running the Peachtree Road Race that year. My response to both questions was the same. My “statement” was to get out with friends the next day, and run, and to run on July 4th.
In Paul’s letter to the Galatians, we are reminded that “For freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery. For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Galatians 5:1, 13-25)
We live in a complex world that is always changing and the response of any system—whether a family, a business, an economy, a church, or an ecosystem—to the shocks and disturbances of change depends on a number of factors. One of the adages of my band of trail runners is “Conditions may vary.” In other words, we seek to be prepared for the inevitable changes of the trail conditions, weather, and our own minds and bodies as we venture forth,
May 29, 2024
As we begin the long, green season of Pentecost I am filled with gratitude for our Holy Family community. It’s been a wonderful few weeks as we transitioned from Eastertide to Pentecost Sunday, We’ve celebrated with a festive Pentecost worship service, a joyous old-fashioned hymn-sing and potluck, a Wonderful Wednesday at The Reserve, and a lovely evening at Grandview Lake last Wednesday evening! Trinity Sunday was replete with a return of the CAT-man!
A deep bow of gratitude to the Parish Life, Hospitality, Pastoral Care and Outreach, the faithful and steadfast women of the DOK who pray for us each week, the Altar Guild and Flower Guild and those committees often working tirelessly and behind the scenes to keep our parish running, including Finance, our intrepid Grounds Crew (aka the “Woodchucks”) and of course the Nominating Committee and Vestry. Thanks, too, to our staff of Jacques, Christie, and John who give so freely of themselves to keep us moving forward! Thank you all!
Jesus encouraged us to become like little children, and regardless of our vision for the future, and our hopes and dreams for Holy Family as we live into this season of transition, our willingness to do this together finds encouragement from other sources. As Mary Oliver said so well:
“Instructions for living a life.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.”
I’ve been astonished by the spirit of community,
May 22, 2024
We paused on the trail—tired, hot, and momentarily liberated from the weight of our heavy packs—and I sat down on a scorched, fallen log, grateful for the respite, in what only three years earlier had been a verdant, old growth Montana forest. Now, the charred remains of spruce, lodge-pole pine, and fir were all that I could see. Burned sentinels of formerly majestic trees rose ahead and above us, and those no longer standing seemed to litter the forest floor as if some great force had arbitrarily tossed them and let them lay where they fell. Chaos and destruction seemed all around. I found myself feeling sad, and lamenting the loss of what I knew had once been a fecund, flourishing forest ecosystem.
I was in the Scapegoat Wilderness area of Montana with dear friends from graduate school, an annual, much-anticipated sojourn, and this was not what I had in mind when I flew into Great Falls a few days before. I’d had visions of escaping my native southern heat by hiking in cool, pristine sub-alpine forests, and I now found myself in a forest radically changed by fire; ravaged, and permanently damaged. Or was it? Was I seeing the whole picture? We live in a complex world that is always changing, and the response of any “system,” whether a family, a business (or an economy), a church in a season of change as we are currently experiencing—or an ecosystem, to the shocks and disturbances of change, depends on a number of factors.