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.
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March Eco-Spiritual Practice:
Spring Equinox Reflections This month, the Spring Equinox falls on March 19th, a day of equal daylight and darkness, after which we move into the season of spring and the lighter half of the year. Here are some reflection questions inspired by the equinox seasonal transition. Take these questions out onto the land with you and observe what you notice. Use them as journaling prompts or as inspiration for some creative art (a nature mandala is a wonderful way to reflect on the season and what is in balance). Examine the balance in your life - where is there balance (or tension) between perceived opposites? What do you want/need more of in your life? What do you need/want less of? What is awakening in you? What is ready to sprout? Our February worship gathering was led by Lisa and Leah; and the theme was love - not romantic love, but love for the world, and in particular love of place, this place where we gather for worship. Our readings for reflection include these two:
My help is in the mountain Where I take myself to heal The earthly wounds That people give to me I find a rock with sun on it And a stream where the water runs gentle And the trees which one by one give me company. So must I stay for a long time Until I have grown from the rock And the stream is running through me And I cannot tell myself from one tall tree. Then I know that nothing touches me Nor makes me run away. My help is in the mountain That I take away with me. - Mary Wood Psalm 96: 11-12 Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad; let the sea resound, and all that is in it. Let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them; let all the trees of the forest sing for joy. What you love about a particular place or the wild world in general. What are the things that you love most about being in nature, about being outside amongst the more-than-humans? What does it do for your spirit? How does it change you? What gifts does it offer you? Where do you feel loved by the wild world? This month, let's celebrate our love for the earth.
Choose a particular place, being, or element and pour your heart out to them on paper. Express your feelings for the and your desires for their flourishing. Reflect on the bond between you and them and how they love you back. Consider how much God loves and cherishes them as well. If you wish, deliver your letter (if you used plain paper) by burying it in your compost pile or garden. Or, carry it with you, tuck it in your journal, or turn it into art and hang it somewhere you can see it and be reminded of your love. I am a girl made of stars. Of water cycled through creeks and rivers, great lakes, snow, and mud. Of air exchanged with maples and spruce, crocuses and goldenrod. Of soil molecules, microbles, bacteria and trillions of cells; a community. Of sun light and wind, energizing and animating my every move and thought. Companion of family and friends, clouds, cats, crows, and cedars. Receiving and giving renewing and aging. Who are you? - Wendy Janzen Our January worship gathering focused on the theme of Refuge/Refugia. Winter is a season when we, and the creatures and plants around us, seek refuge from the harsh elements. It is also a metaphor for challenging and stressful times, like the times we live in with climate disasters, wars, and polarization. Our winter book study is on the book Refugia Faith: Seeking Hidden Shelters, Ordinary Wonders, and the Healing of the Earth by Debra Rienstra. Refugia is a biological term that describes little pockets of safety, hidden shelters in harsh conditions or times of disaster and crisis, where life persists and out of which new life emerges. Author Debra Rienstra writes: “... even amid destruction, the forces of life yearn for renewal. A refugia faith, similarly, regards our dire conditions honestly but immerses fear and despair in longing for God's promised new life.” (p 31) Refugia are places to find shelter, but only for a time - they are not an escape or a place to stick our heads in the snow and ignore the realities of life. More importantly, refugia are places to begin, places where the tender and harrowing work of restoration and renewal takes root. Winter doesn’t last forever; trees don’t stay in dormancy forever; animals don’t stay in hibernation or in their burrows forever; birds don’t stay in their winter nesting grounds forever. We can create places of refuge to protect us and renew us through the hardest times, and then launch from there into the next season or stage of regrowth. Psalm 46 says “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change…” Where do you see places of refugia in the world around you? Where do you go to seek refuge? Our eco-spiritual practice for the month (and, indeed, for the year) is a Phenology Wheel. This is what I wrote about it for the Godspace website:
At Burning Bush Forest Church, we meet once a month for outdoor worship, and once a month for a learning/serving/action/community building event. To supplement those events, we offer an eco-spiritual practice of the month for people to explore on their own. What is an eco-spiritual practice? There are a variety of ways this could be defined, depending on who you are and how you approach ecospirituality. As a Christian pastor and spiritual director, I see eco-spiritual practices as invitations to explore and deepen our spiritual lives through activities that invite contemplative connections with creation and creative or embodied expression of our response to God’s presence there. To some, they may seem far from a typical prayer practice, but as I read somewhere, anything can be a prayer when we bring that intention to it. eco-spiritual practices invite us into the wondrous, to nurture our spirit and connect with God. The eco-spiritual practice we are currently exploring is creating a phenology wheel. Phenology is the study of cyclic and seasonal natural phenomena, especially in relation to climate and plant and animal life. A phenology wheel is a way to record what we are noticing in the circle of the year. To make it a spiritual practice, an added element of recording the liturgical calendar or a spiritual insight connected to each month, adds another layer of paying attention. Because it is a wheel, you can begin this practice at any time of year. I first discovered the phenology wheel in 2016 (on the Raising Little Shoots website), the same year I founded Burning Bush Forest Church. It appealed to me as a personal practice to aid in deepening my own awareness of God’s activity and presence with me in nature as I led others in outdoor worship. I sensed that if I was going to be leading a different kind of worshiping community I needed new and different kinds of spiritual practices to ground me in my ministry. It was an enlightening experience, one that opened me to engaging with the cycles of nature in ways that also nurtured my faith. To engage with this as an eco-spiritual practice, create your own template using whatever you have on hand – I used the back of some scrapbooking paper, a dinner plate and a ruler to create my template with a bit of trial and error (This time around I am switching to watercolor paper). Or, use this template. Once you have your template at the ready, turn your attention to what you notice around you each month. Take leisurely walks, gaze out the window, notice weather patterns, track the changes in daylight or moon cycles, watch for wildlife. See what captures your attention and take time to connect and reflect. To quote Mary Oliver’s Instructions for Living a Life, “Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.” Pay attention each month to what astonishes you. What captures your curiosity? Observe the ordinary and the unusual. Then tell about it through creative expression. You may want to take pictures or keep a journal through the month to help you notice patterns or significant moments. When the inspiration hits, or at the end of the month, pull out your template and whatever art supplies you have on hand. Use the outer part of the wedge to express what rises to the surface when you think about connecting with creation this month. Don’t worry about your artistic ability – this isn’t for show. Use the inner part of the wedge to somehow record what resonated with your spirit or interior life this month – a ritual, a holy day, particular words, a mood. Is there any intersection between what you are noticing and the liturgical season you are in (if you are from a tradition that follows liturgical seasons)? Does your experience bring to mind a scripture verse or line of poetry? Does it inspire a prayer? Does it have anything to show you about God’s presence and revelation in creation? Be playful, open-minded and open-hearted with this practice. My hope is that this practice
As this year turns to the next,
Bless the passing of time, God, whether we like it or not. Bless children growing right before our eyes, our ageing bodies and ageing parents. Bless the presence of each moment, and the movement of hours turning into days, weeks, months, seasons, years, lifetimes. For the year behind us, may we be graced with memories. Give us hearts large enough to hold heartaches, resilient enough to accept losses, and content enough to be grateful. For the year ahead, give us open hands and open minds. Help us embrace growth and beauty, unknowing and paradox. Bless the good earth who grounds us, and horizons that give us space to see. Bless the sun who travels the globe each day, and the moon whose change night by night is perceptible. Bless the water with is many forms, modelling change and transformation. Bless the sky and its moods, brilliant and drab and everything in between. Bless us with rituals that bring shape and meaning to our days. Bless us with companions who provide connection and comfort. Bless us with hope in a future with light, love, and laughter. - Wendy Janzen ![]() Our December worship gathering, as always, combined themes from the Advent season and the coming winter solstice. It is no coincidence that we celebrate Advent when we are at the darkest point of the year in the Northern Hemisphere. The return of the sun symbolizes the coming of the Light of the World, Emmanuel: God With Us. While we want to be mindful of not polarizing light and dark, or demonizing darkness, we do acknowledge that there is destruction and brokenness in the world; as a result all of us, and all of creation is in need of hope and healing. This is what we celebrate as we light candles and wait for the sun’s shift back toward lengthening days. Just as there are different types & stages of light, twilight, and darkness, we experience light and darkness differently in our own lives. The intensity of darkness varies. Perhaps it is a constant companion - one you are more or less comfortable with. Perhaps it is a veil that you long to have lifted. Both light and dark play important roles in our lives and in creation. “Sing, starry sky and every constellation, for what the Eternal One has done. Shout for joy, dark soil underfoot and deep caverns below; Erupt in joyful songs, mountains and forests, and every tree in them! Sing joyfully, for the Eternal One has rescued Jacob; the splendor of God will be revealed...” (Isaiah 44:23, The Voice) Leah invited us into a time of wandering with this invitation: "Sometimes when I enter into our wandering & wondering times, I find having a phrase or words to repeat to myself…kind of like a mantra. So today I offer you the opening line of the song The Sound of Silence by Simon & Garfunkel, which says 'Hello Darkness, my old friend'. We invite you to use that phrase as an invitation to lean into the darkness today during your wanderings & wonderings." After wandering and sharing with each other, we listened to this song Find the Light by David Ramirez as we lit candles. Our closing blessing was A Blessing for Traveling in the Dark by Jan Richardson: Go slow if you can. Slower. More slowly still. Friendly dark or fearsome, this is no place to break your neck by rushing, by running, by crashing into what you cannot see. Then again, it is true: different darks have different tasks, and if you have arrived here unawares, if you have come in peril or in pain, this might be no place you should dawdle. I do not know what these shadows ask of you, what they might hold that means you good or ill. It is not for me to reckon whether you should linger or you should leave. But this is what I can ask for you: That in the darkness there be a blessing. That in the shadows there be a welcome. That in the night you be encompassed by the Love that knows your name. - in Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons, Jan Richardson |
AuthorReflections, poetry, prayers, photos, and resources written by Wendy Janzen unless otherwise noted. Archives
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