Ephemeral art to mark the autumn equinox - light and dark, blooms and seeds, transitioning from life to death. Life is not static, it is a flow of change that sometimes feels fast, and sometimes goes slowly. Today on this equinox day, we celebrate the balance that invites us to embrace it all. Take time sometime this week or this month to create your own nature mandala to celebrate the transitions of the seasons, and reflect on transitions happening in your own life. 

Thanks be to our Creator,
thanks be to our solar system,
thanks be to the plants
​who shared their beauty in this art!

Our September theme invited us to reflect on being rooted and grounded. Daniel Berrigan, a Jesuit peace activist, once said “Don’t just do something. Stand there.” Standing in one place and not moving is a part of our work. It is a form of rootedness that leads to knowledge and intimacy and relationship. Resistance to forces of destruction can be the slow work of being present to a place in the face of a transient, fast-paced world.

Ephesians 3:16-18a (from the First Nations Version)
“My prayer for you is that from the great treasures of God’s beauty, Creator will gift you with the Spirit’s mighty power and strengthen you in your inner being… I pray that as you trust in the Chosen One, your roots will go deep into the soil of [God’s] great love, and that from these roots you will draw the strength and courage needed to walk this sacred path together with all… this path of love is higher than the stars, deeper than the great waters, wider than the sky. Yes, this love come from and reaches to all directions.” 

How can we become radically rooted to Place (this place right here where we have been coming to worship month after month, and the places where we each live), getting to know it, learning to love it, learning to love God, walking the sacred path together and making the world a better place? How can we learn from this wise old hemlock tree (pictured) whose roots are holding it upright even as the creek is eroding the soil beneath it? How do we root ourselves in love?

Our August worship theme invited us to reflect on our relationship with trees as kin.

We read Mark 8:22-26, a story of Jesus healing a blind man. When his sight was restored, he was asked what he saw, and the first response was that he saw people who looked like trees. In her comments on the text, Henriette Thompson said: "It’s interesting to think that the first thing the sight-recovering man sees is: 'people who look like trees walking around.' 
 
It sounds humorous even… But what if seeing people as trees was not just something to be corrected, but another way of seeing? 
 
Our bodies resemble trees – we have a trunk, we have limbs and we have appendages (hands, feet, head) at the end of these limbs. Our respiratory and neural systems have roots, stems, and branches that are shaped like tree canopies. Think of a physiology drawing of human lungs with their arteries, veins and capillaries."


During our Wandering & Wondering time we were invited to de-center humans as we reflected on these two questions:

• Who will I be for the trees?
• What does kinship with trees require of me?

This worship theme was inspired by ​Geez, Communing with Trees, Summer 2020, issue no. 57

In July we mark Canada Day, and in the US they mark Independence Day. These national holidays focus on freedom, nationhood, and independence. In contrast, today we will focus on our interdependence and interconnectedness with all creation.

Our readings came from Deuteronomy 6:4 and excerpts from 1 Cor. 12:14-27.

The body analogy used in the second passage could just as easily be applied to a forest, or any ecosystem. We are all parts of something bigger than ourselves, and all parts play their own important roles. Randy Woodley, a Cherokee theologian, calls it the “community of creation.” He writes that the community of creation seeks restoration of harmony between people and “the Creator, the earth, and all that God provides through the earth such as plants and animals.”

In our wandering and wondering time we were invited to pay attention to what drew our attention, and allow them to be our teacher or preacher about interdependence with this place and the lives that live here.

Benediction:
Thank you God, for your presence among us today. Go with us from this place and enable us to live with wisdom and humility, knowing we are connected in a tapestry of relationships that stretches across the earth. Amen. 

Our worship today was a tapestry of interconnection with others who are engaging in various forms of eco-spirituality or land-based worship. The theme came from Taftsville Chapel Mennonite Fellowship's contribution to the summer Wild Church worship series in Leader magazine. The opening prayer and closing benediction were adapted from Dirt Church Liturgy. And some of our practices were picked up at the Wild Church Network retreat in June.

Our June worship gathering invited us to reflect on the light of this time of year (approaching the summer solstice) and the Light of the world.

We grounded ourselves with our eyes closed, and then opened them with the invitation to look around as if we were seeing with new eyes, noticing particularly the light and shadow, varying shades of green, texture, depth of field, and movement.

We read from Psalm 36:8-9 and John 8:12.

We also listened to a prayer by John Philip Newell (adapted by Wendy Janzen)



​Light within all light, Soul behind all souls,
as we approach the summer solstice and the turning of the seasons
we wait and watch for you. 
Your light within this day’s light
Your Soul within the human soul. 
Your Presence beckoning to us from the heart of life.
In the light of the afternoon 
Let us experience fresh shinings in our soul.
In the rich colours all around us
Let us see the variety of ways you show yourself. 
Light within all light,
Inner Flame of the universe,
Let us be aware of your light shining on us. Amen

Blessings as you celebrate this season of light!

Our monthly worship gatherings and events generally take place within the Grand River watershed. Most also take place on the Haldimand Tract. We are mindful of our relationship with Place and of our Indigenous neighbours and their ongoing story with this Land.

Here is a visual image of where we meet (near the convergence of Laurel Creek and the Grand River) with a bit of the story of the Haldimand Tract and the Dish With One Spoon wampum treaty. We want to continue to learn the truth of these lands and work toward repair. 

Our May worship gathering celebrated the season of spring planting, and the miracle of seeds, along with a celebration of Pentecost. 

Listening to Spring
The first stanza is by Macrina Wiederkehr, the remaining stanzas are by Wendy Janzen. Invite participants to repeat the phrase “I am listening” at the end of each stanza.

I am listening to seeds breaking open,
to roots growing strong beneath the ground,
to green shoots rising up from winter wombs.
    I am listening.

I am listening to seeds carried on the wind,
to light-as-air fluff floating and flying,
to open soil ready to receive new life.
    I am listening.

I am listening to seeds carefully collected and sorted,
to gardeners preparing the land,
to gardens primed for us produce.
    I am listening.

I am listening to seeds of the Spirit,
to invitations for new life to rise up,
to  wild wonder and imagination and hope.
    I am listening.

​I am listening to the language of Spirit,
to voices of birds and squirrels and creek,
to messages of seeds, sun, soil, and rain.
   I am listening. 

I am listening to the Spirit of springtime,
to this season of vibrance and veriditas,
to this season of praise and promise.
    I am listening.

This year, in honour of Earth Day, we started an hour early with some activities including garbage clean-up, letter writing, forest bingo (for the kids!) and a self-guided spring ephemeral walk.

As we moved into a time of worship, we focused on celebrating the ways we are cared for by the Earth, rather than on the problems we need to fix. The Earth is amazing, and full of blessings!

These two verses came to mind:
"The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it, the world, and those who live in it."  - Psalm 24:1
"Do to others as you would have them do to you."  - Luke 6:31

The last chapter of Barbara Brown Taylor's book An Altar in the World is called “The Practice of Pronouncing Blessings.” She writes, 
“To pronounce a blessing on something is to see it from the divine perspective. To pronounce a blessing is to participate in God's own initiative. To pronounce a blessing is to share God's own audacity.”
“The key to blessing things is knowing that they beat you to it. They key to blessing things is to receive their blessing.”

We wandered with these invitations:
Remember that we are both blessed by the earth, and we are a blessing to the earth. 
See what captures your attention, stop, and offer a blessing.
Consider how it has first blessed you.
Rather than continuing on and jumping to bless and be blessed by as many beings as possible, take time to listen and offer the gift of your attention and time.
What do they want you to know?
What do they have to tell you about God?
​What does God want you to know about them?