I was talking to my daughter last evening and expressing how fall for me always seems to be a time of contemplation. There is the dramatic palette of colors, that the Artist splashes everywhere knowing shortly His canvas will be wiped clean, left empty until His creativity stirs again bringing life anew. There is the stark reality that the tree will be stripped bare, naked and exposed. The sun will fade, days becoming short and cold...energy to sustain will come from some where else. Seasons in nature seem to mirror seasons in life.
As religion can be filled with meaningful rituals, so can life. Each year a ritual in my life would be to trek into the mountains of Strathcona Park on Vancouver Island, with backpack, bible and journal...alone. This ritual always caused some anxiety for my wife. But I think she realized there was likely some repressed caveman gene from the hunter-gather age that clicked to the on position when the planets seemed to line up causing some weird gravitational pull. Some people go to monasteries, a secluded cell, I went into the wilderness.
No Cell phone, no radio, no GPS, no guide...a backpack, 3 days rations, tent, therma-rest, sleeping bag...topographical map, compass, bible and journal for direction. Growing up in the Scouting movement, and then a 10 year stint in the army ( PPCLI ), I feel very at home in the outdoors. Tangira would relate to this. I always feel such a profound sense of connectedness when I am in the wild of his creation. These words always come flooding into my mind;
We look at this Son and see the God who cannot be seen. We look at this Son and see God's original purpose in everything created. For everything, absolutely everything, above and below, visible and invisible, rank after rank after rank of angels—everything got started in him and finds its purpose in him. He was there before any of it came into existence and holds it all together right up to this moment.
He was supreme in the beginning and—leading the resurrection parade—he is supreme in the end. From beginning to end he's there, towering far above everything, everyone. So spacious is he, so roomy, that everything of God finds its proper place in him without crowding. Not only that, but all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe—people and things, animals and atoms—get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood that poured down from the cross. ( Eugene Peterson's The Message )
I get a sense that redemption is microcosmic and galactic, that redemption is about every infinite speck of creation. If Christ holds it all together, if he is the glue that holds the fabric of life, that holds creation together...then we need to be thinking with the redemptive imagination of Jesus. Another thought. I'm not above creation. We are wound into the very fiber of creation. We remove ourselves from that reality, and we no longer exist.
Call me nuts, but I talk to birds, squirrels, deer, and frogs. We've had Pacific Tree Frog living in one of the pots on our deck. Every day, he climbs out and sits on the edge of the pot...like clock work, at about 9 in the morning. I call him Dexter. And, yes, I know it's a male by the markings on the throat. I figured if I was a frog, I'd like to be called Dexter. Anyways, I go out and say hello to Dexter every morning. He hasn't engaged in any conversation yet, but, that's not the point. It gives me a sense of connectedness. Dexter and I are wound into the fabric of God's creation. In a deep way, redemption and restoration are about Dexter's world also. Going out every morning and saying " Hi " to Dexter reinforces that truth.
The above image is from when I had just shot a compass bearing and was traversing across a ridge to get to Mt. Phillip. It was a gorgeous patch of mountain heather in full bloom. Look at the picture...there is something very striking. There is no soil, it is all rock. There was no path to lead anyone to it, to take in its beauty. It was a bearing on a compass, that unknowingly brought me to it. I sat for a long time, talking in the moment, the space and the beauty.
If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are 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 to get you to relax, to 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 your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. ( Eugene Peterson's, The Message )
The Psalmist sang, that all creation glorifies The Lord. I wondered how many people had came upon that patch of Mountain Heather, or if I had come up a profound act of worship, creation glorifying the creator. Something very profound in Jesus' words, that if we didn't worship the stones would cry out. Had I witnessed beauty beyond words, rocks crying out?
One way one navigates travel in the high country is by cairns, or ebenezers, ( It is usually transliterated as a proper name by dropping the definite article (Ha) from the Hebrew word for "help" (Ezer) and putting it together with the Hebrew word for "stone" (Even) to create: "Ebenezer." An "Ebenezer" is, literally, a "Stone of Help.") Because of the terrain, harsh climate, and not many travel in the high country, paths do not get worn into the landscape. Usually, initially someone shoots a bearing and heads of into the direction the needle points, and every so often creates an ebenezer to help future travelers. As one walks, you learn to scour the horizon looking for the stone of help. Loosing focus, and loosing track of these " Stones of Help ", one soon finds themsleves wandering, lost.
If it's one thing I've learned in this faith journey, it is, we need these stones of help. A faith journey is very much like traveling in the high country, we need to be conscious of those who have traveled its terrain before us. We need to glean from their wisdom, and if need be we need to restore some of the ancient wisdom, the stones of help that we've ignored and let fall. To navigate into the future we need it all, maps, compass, and ebenezers.
Yes, it's bold, it's cool, it's exciting and radical to head off in a new direction. But ignoring maps, compass and ebenezers is very dangerous. The wisdom of "one" does not sustain itself for very long.
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