July 24, 2024
River Sojourns-Life Journeys
One of the enduring joys of my youth has been a fondness for rivers, lakes, and streams. I especially enjoy whitewater canoeing and kayaking, and the wild places to which these activities take me. Growing up in North Georgia, I felt at home on the Amicalola and the Chestatee, the Chattahoochee, and the Nantahala. In more recent years, I have discovered sea kayaking, and I have been fortunate to paddle in places as diverse and magical as coastal Maine, Tebenkof Bay Alaska, Lake Jocassee, and the Boundary Waters of Minnesota. Our two sons also developed a love for water, as evidenced by this photo of older son Justin, who was a raft guide for the NOC while in graduate school at Vanderbilt:
It is a delight to view the world from the perspective of the water. One notices the intricacy and beauty of creation in new and remarkable ways. One is for a time both in—and of—the context of the water. The Japanese poet Basho knew this experience well:
The old pond, ah!
A frog jumps in:
The water’s sound!
Like the ripples of my paddle as I dip it into the current of the Cartecay, the frog’s presence both disrupts the smooth texture of the world and belongs to it. Yet in some ways we are different, Basho’s frog and I. We humans cannot fully immerse ourselves in the river world around us.
July 17, 2024
Loaves and Fishes…Salmon, in particular
It is deep summer, in this long, green season of Pentecost, and as we speak, in rivers and streams all along the Pacific coast, salmon are returning home to their native waters after journeys of up to 6 years—and thousands of miles—at sea. Some time back, I took a sea-kayaking trip to Alaska, just about this time of year. Our group journeyed to Tebenkof Bay, deep into the wilderness of southeast Alaska, for a week-long sojourn based on Buddhist mindfulness practice.
Early one day, we set out in our boats across the bay. A gentle summer rain was falling. Ravens called out as seals and otters followed our flotilla of kayaks, diving playfully beneath our boats. Ducks and loons eyed us curiously framed by snow-capped mountain ranges, their glaciers emptying into the bay.
We found ourselves in the delta of a small river. We paddled upriver protected from the rain by spruce forests. Beneath our boats was a river of salmon, coming home to spawn.
Our guide gave us a streamside lecture on the ecology of salmon nation. Salmon are amazing members of God’s creation, and this is especially true of Pacific salmon. Leaving their fresh-water birthplaces they journey out to sea where they roam the oceans of the world, returning to spawn at the exact spot they were born years—and thousands of miles–earlier.
Most of you have seen scenes of Chinook and Sockeye salmon making their way up waterfalls to their native pools against tremendous odds.
July 10, 2024
Early on Tuesday morning last week, I enjoyed a lovely trail run in preparation for the Peachtree Road Race, held on Thursday, July 4th. Tuesday morning was deliciously cool and breezy, in contrast to what would be a hilly, humid, and hot Fourth of July in Atlanta. I enjoyed the solitude, and some much needed time to immerse myself in the Southern Appalachian woods. Wildflowers and wildlife were plentiful, and I was reminded of John Muir’s invocation:
Keep close to Nature’s heart… and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean. ~ John Muir
In contrast, on Thursday morning I ran from Buckhead down to Piedmont Park with 55,000 of my fellow sojourners. Two days, and two very different experiences, yet both involved running, and both provided opportunities to be fully present to the moment at hand; as Mary Oliver has said so well:
Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
And so I am doing just that now, with each of you. As I ran past the Shepherd Center on Thursday, a facility devoted to brain and spinal cord injury, I paused to greet the patients lining Peachtree Road. Most were in wheelchairs or on stretchers. Like many, I’ve had family, friends, and patients who were treated there.
July 3, 2024
Greetings everyone, and grace and peace to each of you as we celebrate the Fourth of July this week, and we journey together in this long green season of Pentecost.
As many of you know, our denomination held its 81st General Convention in Louisville over the past two weeks. Here’s a summary from the Episcopal News Service:
Episcopal News Service – The official news service of the Episcopal Church.
As you know, our own Bishop +Rob was among 5 candidates on the slate for Presiding Bishop. Bishop +Sean Rowe was elected on the first ballot. Here are his remarks to the Deputies gathered at the convention:
Bishop Rowe’s Remarks to Deputies – The Living Church
And here is a compelling quote from his speech:
“Our ministry together in the next nine years comes at a critical time for the Episcopal Church. It is not too strong to say that we’re facing an existential crisis. Not because the church is dying, or because we have lost our belief in the salvation of God in Jesus Christ. But because as the world around us changes, and continues to change — it changes all the time — and God is calling us more deeply into the unknown…I sometimes think of this moment in the Episcopal Church’s history in terms of the history of my own region of the United States, where I grew up and where I continue to serve.