We gathered along the banks of our beloved Laurel Creek in the snowy sub-zero temperatures of January. This poem invited us into reflecting on the mind of winter, and we contemplated the similarities with the invitation in Philippians 2:5-7 to 'adopt the mind of Christ.' What do you think? What might you discover if you see the trees, creek, or creatures here on their terms rather than ours?  What might God want you do learn by regarding winter? 

Due Regard by Wallace Stevens.

One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing themself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is. 

Maybe what we need isn't self-care.
Maybe what we truly need is
grounding, connection, and
entanglement with all that is.
We are not created for
independence or self-reliance.

Maybe we need to open our being
to the gift of life around us, and
remember we are not alone.
We are light and love from others
and for others, our souls nourished
by touch, reaching out in need,
receiving the goodness of 
ordinary beauty
seeping through the cracks.

Celebrate the sun shining on your face, 
water wetting your lips,
gravity hugging you close to the earth,
air filling your lungs,
honey sweetening your tongue,
birds cheering your spirit,
nighttime welcoming your rest,
friends and family surrounding you,
the Divine Presence renewing
and enlivening your spirit.

​-Wendy Janzen

​Our November gathering invited us into Lament. Chip read Romans 8:22-28 from the First Nations Version of the Bible, which includes these words:

"It is plain to see that all creation is still groaning in pain like a mother giving birth. And even we who have first tasted of the Spirit are groaning on the inside...
Spirit helps us in our weakness, for our prayers are often empty words, but Creator’s own Spirit groans deep within us, without words..."

Wendy shared a quoted from Hillarie Maddox, from her substack Black Girl Country Living, Oct. 16, titled "Feeling the Earth in Our Bodies" and sent us into our wandering time with this invitation: 

As we wander today, I invite you to pay attention and tune in to signs of distress, woundedness, loss, or stress the Earth is exhibiting here in this place. Tune in, as well, to similar things you are feeling or suppressing in your body. What do the earth, your body, and the Spirit want you to know today?

We ended with Chip leading us in a ritual of symbolically dropping our 'wordless prayers or groans' into the creek. 

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 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. 

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?

I (Wendy) recently started a course called Earth and Climate Chaplaincy. In our first session together, we talked about “trepidatious joy,” that mixed feeling of dread or despair that mingles with wonder and joy.

When we open ourselves to the world, to the beauty and goodness around us, it also breaks open our hearts to the brokenness we find. Whether it be wars and genocide, weirding weather, or dying species, there is plenty to lament. And still, we also experience joy in life.
​
During our wandering time at our March worship gathering, this was the invitation we offered before the wander: take note of what emotions you are carrying with you - are you bringing grief you need to express, or are you leaning toward wonder and gratitude, or something else? Whichever it is, take time to feel it, and as you wander notice anything here that is echoing or mirroring your mood or feelings. Where (or how) does the outer landscape reflect your inner landscape? Spend time there, and release what you need to release: silently, verbally, or symbolically with an action or gesture.