Sabbath Rest

The decline of the church in the U.S., has any number of ramifications, some obvious and others less so.  One of the "less so" ramifications is the continuing loss of the biblical understanding of the Sabbath as time off from the cares of daily life, time for refocusing on the deeper things underlying the grind.  In times gone by in our nation, the rhythm of life was six days of labor and a seventh day for putting aside that labor, dressing up, going to worship (which was a source of entertainment and intellectual stimulation), and slowing down.  Today, committed church folks don't slow down on the weekend; they cram in, rather, an alternative set of hectic activities.  On retirement, they get busier with as much or more busy-ness as beforehand.  It is not just that there is less space for church even among the committed.  There is less time for rest.  And more than that, our modern, multitasking society is losing its capacity for rest, esp. for Sabbath rest.

Sabbath rest is partly time for prayer, reading "spiritual literature" unhurriedly, and reflection.  It is time for meditation.  It is partly time for sitting quietly, taking a walk, sharing an unhurried meal with a friend, and smelling the roses.  It is a time for not doing, not accomplishing.  It is not goal oriented time but rather time for being lazy.  It is, as one happy example, time spent sitting around a fire in the evening with the forest gone quiet, watching the dancing flames, seeing the shadows they cast on the surrounding trees, hearing the long trilling call of a loon, and simply being at rest.  A cup of hot chocolate or coffee or tea—or not. Sabbath rest is the stillness of the night forest discovered in other places in our lives where for a moment we hear the echoes of peace quieting for that moment the busyness of our busyness.

The decline of the church and the decline of Sabbath rest are not unrelated.  Renewal of the latter is not unrelated to the renewal of the former, if by the church we mean the community of faith rather than the religious institution.  Amen.

Small Victories

"Ike's Creek, Bloomington, Minnesota

Although the world continues to stand on the edge of ecological catastrophe with the oceans dying and rain forest dwindling rapidly, there are success stories and victories, some larger and some smaller.  The Minneapolis Star Tribune website carries a posting entitled, "Trout return near MOA," MOA referring to the Mall of America.  The Minnesota Department of Natural Resources (DNR) has recently removed a 1920s dam from the creek, restored its original course, stocked it with brook trout, and created a series of steps that the trout can pass over as they move up and down the stream.  The posting notes, "The clear water flows through a verdant ravine bordered by watercress and wildflowers to the Minnesota River. The creek is less than a mile long, but pure enough and cold enough to offer a rare opportunity: restoring native brook trout that flicked through the water decades ago."  The stream doesn't have an official name evidently, but those involved have started calling it "Ike's Creek" in honor of the Izaak Walton League, which formerly owned the property along the creek.  DNR officials are not sure whether or not the stream will ever be open for fishing or just how the restoration of the creek is going to turn out.  Still, it the stream in future years will be more like nature intended and probably house brook trout again as it once did.

The restoration of little Ike's Creek is a small victory, but not unimportant for that.  It reclaims one tiny corner of the planet for nature, offers a bit of nature to city dwellers, and it reflects the fact that in many places in North America restoration of natural habitats, especially forests, has been going on for decades.  So, it is a small victory but a victory nonetheless.

Evolution and Providence

The windmills of Lewis County, NY

Evolution does not fall within God's providence.  Providence, rather, falls within the movement of galactic evolution in the universe and biological evolution on Earth.  That is, we experience God's care for us in the context of evolution, which is why so many of us can connect, for example, so deeply with a dog or a cat or another member of another species to the point that their presence in our lives improves our mental and even physical health.  That is why one of the places where most of us are most apt to feel the presence of God's Spirit is not in worship on Sunday but on the trail on a Saturday—or in the presence of a magnificent sunset or sunrise, or in the quick, cool touch of a dancing breeze. Galactic and biological evolution are the ways God creates, and they are the ways God creates us.  They do not fall within God's providence.  They are, instead, the context through which God channels divine care and compassion.