Dragonfly Morning

 

                                                                       Globe Skimmer Dragonfly

Yesterday we set out early to paddle on the Moira River a few kilometres north of where we live. The fog was so dense as we drove that we considered turning back but we persevered. We were alone at the landing --who else would be so foolish -- but we decided that the fog was lifting and we went in our kayaks. We paddled upstream against a surprisingly strong current for this time of year because of heavy recent rains. 

Our first gift were all the spider webs in branches by the water, bejewelled thanks to the mist. There were so many of them and the sight was magical. By the time we came back they were invisible. 

After half an hour we saw a young bald eagle lift off from a dead tree and head toward the rapids just to the north. We have been watching the huge nest there since the beginning of the year when there were no leaves but the parental pair was present, weathering the cold and snowstorms. After a couple of years without young we were hoping they'd have success this year and as the leaves obscured the nest we were fairly sure we saw a couple of smaller heads. Then the two young were venturing onto nearby branches. then short flights, now out on their own, at least for reasonable distances. This one landed high in a tree in the midst of the rapids and we bobbed about in the turbulence, eyes glued.

This was all wonderful but we both gave special attention to other creatures, the combat pilots of the summer, dragonflies. They were everywhere, some of them huge. I was aware that some of the 3,000 species of dragonfly globally migrate but only yesterday read that they have the longest migration of any species on the planet. 

The Wandering Glider, also known as the Globe Skimmer, is renowned for its extensive, trans-oceanic migrations. Across oceans!  Both these names evoke so much.

This one species is found on every continent except Antarctica, making it the most widespread dragonfly globally. As with Monarch butterflies, migration can involve three generations with individuals flying up to 6,000 kilometres We see dragonflies in our backyard and had the occasional one land on my kayak or even my arm while paddling. How far had they travelled? 

We had no idea which species we were witnessing yesterday morning -- there are about 25 in Canada --  but just the prospect of these "pilgrimages" involving incredible distances changed how we viewed them. As with Monarch butterflies there are no references to dragonflies in scripture but we have to claim them as sacred. There are lots of dragonflies in Israel, so did Jesus chase after them as a child? Did he have a sense of wonder when he saw them? 

Heaven and Hell in Wildfire Country

 

                                                                   Fire near Kimberley BC

In early June Ruth helped celebrate an auspicious birthday of a dear friend in British Columbia, along with a couple of other pals. They had a wonderful time with some cycling, paddling, hiking, and two luxurious sessions in nearby hot springs. When Ruth returned she said that if it weren't for our children and our grandchildren she could live there, with surroundings that are close to  heaven on earth.  She wasn't specific about whether I would be included in the move but I decided not to seek clarification.

Since then this friend and her partner spent an anxious week on evacuation alert in a province which is on fire, including one on the doorstep of their beautiful community. This meant they had both their vehicles packed with essentials and she was aware that when she went to the pool in the next town over she might get a notice that wouldn't allow her to return home. The threats seems to have passed, for now, but other areas have not been so fortunate. On a First Nations reserve along Lake Okanagan 30 homes of band members and 200 non-band homes had burned. I think this was the same reserve where my uncle once had his cottage.

This is the reality for so many people across the continent this summer. Despite the ignoramus politicians in the US who have scolded and threatened Canada because of cross-border wildfire smoke, similar fires rage in Washington state, destroying huge areas of forest and creeping into the edges of towns and cities. As with BC, it is a nightmare of loss for many, hellish we might say. 

Someone who has become an online friend through this blog kindly wrote to ask how we were doing in Ontario given the number of fires here. She and her husband, both in their 80s lived in an idyllic forest setting until a wildfire incinerated their home and virtually all their possessions a few years ago. He is an acclaimed acoustician and author and his extensive library of nature recordings went up in smoke. Providentially, a university had archived and made copies of the recordings not long before the fire.

I've written about the exceptional book by the late theologian Sally McFague, an American who came to teach in British Columbia and stayed until her death. Nearly 30 years ago she explored what it means to be Super, Natural Christians, a riff on the Super, Natural British Columbia tourism theme at the time.

I do not believe that we will protect the resources or the beauty of what many of us know as Canada by building more pipelines or declaring ourselves an "energy superpower" -- what does really mean, anyway? 

Creator, teach us what it means to be Super, Natural Christians, on earth as it is in heaven. 

Monarch Butterflies & the Season of Creation?

                                                                           Photo by Deb J

Last week I chuckled when a good friend sent me the link for a worthwhile article in the Atlantic Monthly on the subject of Monarch butterflies. I'd come upon the same article earlier in the day but thought I might be too predictable by sending it their way. They also live not far from the shore of Lake Ontario and have become dedicated Monarch protectors, involved with a group who net and tag these wondrous creatures in late Summer and into the Fall as they embark on the perilous journey to Mexico. 

Monarchs have been in serious decline for a number of reasons including habitat loss along the flight route and in the mountainous forest area where they roost by the millions over the Winter. While greater efforts have been made to establish a protected forest preserve, poaching for lumber and clear-cutting to grow avocados destined for northern markets are serious threats. One prominent conservationist in Mexico was murdered and others have lived under threat of violence. 

It seems that the population following the Eastern flyways may have stabilized after years of decline, which is good news. Sadly, this is not the case for the Western Monarchs. 

There is no mention of butterflies in the Judeo/Christian scriptures even though there is a variety of  species in Israel and the region. Butterflies are sometimes used in Christian imagery for transformation.and resurrection. 

I wonder if Monarchs could be the foundation for the Season of Creation in North America, given that these Sundays are in September and early October, a key period for migration southward? 

We live in a time of precarity for many species and yet we live in hope for their survival and ours. Only the willfully blind cannot see and feel the effects of the Climate Emergency and it is discouraging that we continue to commit the sins of disregard for Creation. 

Monarchs roosting in El Rosario butterfly sanctuary, part of Mexico’s Monarch Butterfly Biosphere Reserve

On the theme of Monarchs and Creation we could celebrate those dedicated humans here and all along the migratory paths who chose to carry on their support in hope. Why not connect with organizations and researchers who are doing this work and maybe even invite folk to  provide financial support?

We might express our wonder for these creatures and become better informed about their  astonishing journey. We could make the connection with other migrations, including humans who are searching for a better life as climate refugees in a changing world. 

Some congregations are on properties which could grow pollinator plants, including the essential milkweed. Members could be encouraged to record their sightings of Monarchs. Hymns, prayers, other liturgical resources could be developed, including a call to repentance and change of heart. 

I'll stop now! 

When I mentioned to these friends that we saw a number of Monarchs on a beach in Prince Edward County and then in our backyard she sent the photo above from their yard. 

Let's keep hoping, praying, and acting for Creation. And maybe read Barbara Kingsolver's novel which includes a faith community. 

Fingerbowl Epiphany

 

We spent a couple of days with two of our grandchildren and enjoyed a bunch of outing and activities. Who knew that a six-year-old would be delighted by a fingerbowl at Swiss Chalet? We figured that these bowls on longer existed, but here they were. 

Later I reminisced with our daughter, their mom, about an earlier time in her life when she was commuting to Toronto from Oshawa five days a week and then working three Swiss Chalet shifts on the weekend. It was surprisingly good money because of the tips and made a big difference for weekly expenses. 

 She reminded me that on Sunday afternoons co-workers would groan "here come the church people" as groups filtered in after their worship services.

 I asked,  why church people, and she said that they tended to be entitled and even rude. So, these folk had heard the Good News of Jesus, maybe a sermon from time to time about a commandment saying "Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy" only to be the source of eye-rolling on the part of people who were serving them on that sabbath. 

I spent many years working as a pastor with and for some of the finest people I've ever met. Their faith informed their lives and that Good News was evident in their kindness and compassion. Unfortunately I could also understand why our daughter's co-workers felt the way they did. It seemed that some church folk -- always only a few but often a vocal minority -- didn't get the memo about loving their neighbours as themselves as an expression of loving God. 

Witnessing to Christ is not about cornering someone with a few trite phrases about God's amazing love. It is demonstrating genuineness in everyday actions. Maybe the fingerbowls could be an opportunity to renew baptismal vows!

Ah well, I'll keep the image of my grandchild soaking their fingers with a happy grin as though it was a spa day. 

Closing a Cathedral of Creativity

 

During this past weekend thousands of people congregated at the McMichael Gallery in Kleinberg, Ontario, perhaps the greatest collection of Canadian art. I use "congregated" intentionally and I might have described the gallery as a shrine or even a cathedral or artistic expression. 

Not surprisingly folk wanted a last opportunity to experience the McMichael before it closes for three years to facilitate a major redevelopment and expansion. When I read about this it was as though I was being told that a cherished church was being closed, albeit temporarily. At our age three years can bring significant life-changing events, as we constantly see with our contemporaries. I suppose what I am feeling is grief, in a way. 

We visit the McMichael at least once a year, sometimes twice or thrice, depending on the exhibitions. I first visited the gallery in the 1960s, shortly after the McMichaels gave their expansive log home and impressive collection of art, mostly Group of Seven and Tom Thomson paintings, to the Ontario government to be used in perpetuity as a museum. I've written about having my photo taken as a boy with AY Jackson, one of those painters who was living there at the time who would sit in a sunny nook. 

 The collection has expanded over the decades and many of the exhibits now bring in well curated works by Aboriginal artists and contemporary creators from other cultures as well as offering retrospectives of women who were largely ignored in previous eras. An exhibition at the McMichael introduced us to the work of Christi Belcourt, a contemporary Metis artist. 

Over time the McMichael has been expanded and refurbished but this is unprecedented. Closing for three years seems a huge price to pay for those who value time there so deeply. I know that this decision wasn't taken lightly and I pray that the project doesn't extend beyond the timeline. 

Sarah Milroy, the executive director and chief curator speaks of the 'sacred trust" the gallery represents and this an apt description. I so often have experienced a sense of the holy in art galleries and museums. Creativity in its many forms, including music, is, for me, a reflection of the Creator. 

Seeing Red

 

It's ben fun to introduce our four grandchildren to some of the cartoons and kids series of our past, although the violence and sexism of the usually clever Looney Tunes and others is an eye-opener.

Ruth found the original Anne of Green Gables series with Megan Follows and it didn't go well with our six-year-old grandchild. He is one of two redheads amongst the four, a persistent trait in the family, including Ruth, especially when she was pregnant and the hormones deepened her usually strawberry blonde hair. He was alarmed by the prejudice against Anne's ginger locks by adults and children. 

You may recall that schoolmate Gilbert called Anne "carrot" and it wasn't a term of endearment. Of course Anne was fiery in her response to her tormentor, an emotional stereotype of redheads. Yet Anne bemoaned her "life-long sorrow" and claimed she could never be happy with red hair. She managed to dye her hair green in an attempt to free herself from the curse and had her locks shorn as a result.

The shock of all this was so deep for our grandchild that they had to stop watching, immediately. He has yet to experience this in life and so was unsettled at the prospect. But maybe this silly prejudice has come to an end. 

                                                       Mary Magdalene  --Andrea Solario 1495-1524 

You may be aware that Mary Magdalene was maligned as a "wanton woman" for centuries in the church even though this is not supported by the gospels and often portrayed with red hair. 

That's the way with stereotypes and prejudices, isn't it?  Humans categorize others according to race, creed, colour and gender and it continues to be a powerful tool for control. We see it south of the border right now and it's certainly a grim aspect of our Canadian history. I grew up knowing little about other religions but Muslims were definitely not to be trusted. Aboriginal spirituality was pagan.  Homosexuals were considered an abomination and some people protested the use of the word "gay" because it was too positive, although calling someone gay was a slur. Dumb? Yup. 

I'm not a fan of the doctrine of original sin although I've concluded that hatred seems to be bred in the bone. Some say that we learn our prejudices, which is probably true, but we take to them readily. 

As Jesus-followers we can follow his example in creating a welcoming and loving environment for all rather than weaponizing our faith for exclusion. We can repent of our sins of prejudice and embrace the way of love. This shouldn't be so difficult. 

It's encouraging to see in recent years the embrace of gingerness with a growing number of gatherings and even multi-day festivals. Why not "say it loud, say it proud"? 

Neil Young and Mother Earth

                                                         1990 Promotional Poster 

[Verse 1]
Oh, Mother Earth with your fields of green
Once more laid down by the hungry hand
How long can you give and not receive?
And feed this world ruled by greed
And feed this world ruled by greed

[Verse 2]
Oh, ball of fire in the summer sky
Your healing light, your parade of days
Are they betrayed by the men of power
Who hold this world in their changing hands
They hold the world in their changing hands

[Guitar Solo]

[Verse 3]
Oh, freedom land, can you let this go?
Down to the streets where the numbers grow
Respect Mother Earth and Her giving ways
Or trade away our children's days
Or trade away our children's days

[Outro]
Respect Mother Earth and Her healing ways
Or trade away our children's days

I did not know that way back in 1990 Neil Young, rock music legend, environmentalist, and general curmudgeon wrote a song for his "mother", Planet Earth. It is called Mother Earth: Natural Anthem. I came upon a video of a live version with Crazy Horse, his band at the time. It starts out with some gritty distortion but settles into a ballad, a lament for what Christians term Creation. 

The tune had the feel of a hymn and as I listened it sounded a lot like a traditional hymn I couldn't quite conjure up. Finally I realized that the melody was O Waly Waly, or a close facsimile. In the United Church hymn resource Voices United there are several hymns using this tune including the familiar Though I May Speak. 

There is another, O Blessed Spring, that I can't recall singing but I like the earthy and seasonal lyrics. Am I correct about the Neil Young tune or am I imagining things? 

1 O blessed spring, where Word and sign

embrace us into Christ the Vine,

here Christ enjoins each one to be

a branch of this lifegiving tree.

2 Through summer heat of youthful years,

uncertain faith, rebellious tears,

sustained by Christ's infusing rain,

the boughs will shout for joy again.

3 Christ, holy Vine, Christ, living Tree,

be praised for this blessed mystery:

that Word and water thus revive

and join us to your Tree of Life.

4 When autumn cools and youth is cold,

when limbs their heavy harvest hold,

then through us warm the Christ will move

with gifts of beauty, wisdom, love.

5 As winter comes, as winters must,

we breathe our last, return to dust;

still held in Christ, our souls take wing

and trust the promise of the spring.

                                                               Neil Young Love Earth Tour