Nature versus Image

For those of you who read my previous post, this is a picture I took many years ago at Sylvan Lake. It was taken from almost the exact location where I sat on the shore and first watched the Northern Lights. The colours in the picture are very similar to the moment I first witnessed the Aurora Borealis - thus looking north across the lake there were deep reds and purples to my left, the northern lights display direct in front of me, and a meteorite shower off to the right in the darkest part of the sky at that point. This picture shows gentle waves on the lake, the night I saw the northern lights for the first time the scene was perfectly still, the water acting like a huge mirror reflecting the incredible display in the heavens.

As my previous post indicated, that evening was as significant spiritual experiences for me. Many people have meaningful spiritual experiences when out in nature - and for good reason, because nature is real, and we all crave something real. Allow me to explain more fully.

Father Lucian Kemble was a Franciscan Friar who worked at the St. Michael's Retreat Centre near Lumsden (a small town close to Regina). Lucian was a keen observer of nature, being interested in both biology and astronomy. He was well known in amateur astronomy circles and even had a star system named in his honor. You can read about Lucian Kemble and the pattern of stars known as Kemble's Cascade here.

Lucian told me a few years before his death, that he was working on a paper about Spirituality and Image. His observation was that most of what people watch today is artificial, or reproduced, rather than the real thing. Television and computer images are often enhanced or edited in such a way as to present us an image that doesn't really exist in nature. And yet that is what we surround ourselves with, that becomes our reality. Such images, while beautiful and enticing, do not connect with us in the same way as something real. Lucian told me a story about a teenage girl who was out at St. Michael's on a school retreat. She was part of a group of students who went out to do some stargazing with Lucian one night. She asked if they would be able to see Jupiter. Lucian said yes it was in a part of the sky that was visible to them, then he adjusted the telescope to bring Jupiter into view. Lucian then invited the girl to have a look, she bent over and peered in the viewfinder. Eventually she stood up and began crying. Lucian, concerned that there was a problem, asked her what was wrong. Her reply was telling; "Nothing. It's just so real." The reality of seeing something in nature directly, experiencing a part of the universe personally, was deeply moving for that young woman.

I had seen fine photographs of Northern Lights before that night on the shore of Sylvan Lake so many years ago, but none of them impacted me the way seeing the real thing with my own eyes did. The real thing speaks to our souls like no image can. Lucian Kemble said that one of the reasons there was declining interest in faith in North America was partly due to our disconnection with the natural world. Lucian's concern was that the more we surrounded ourselves with images, and specifically unreal manipulated images, the less we would be open to the presence of God.

Francis Bacon once wrote "God has, in fact, written two books, not just one. Of course, we are all familiar with the first book he wrote, namely Scripture. But he has written a second book called creation." Combining these two books in a setting like a Church camp, where Bible study and being in the midst of nature happen at the same time, can nourish faith in a powerful way. That certainly happened to me as a teenager at Camp Kuriakos. Along with Father Lucian Kemble I can affirm that it is good for one's soul to be out in nature, to be out where things are real, and where God's quiet, gentle voice can be heard without the noise and distractions of machines.

It will most likely be a while before I will be able to see the Aurora Borealis again, we are currently at the quietest time in an eleven year solar cycle and it will probably be a half a decade before the Northern Lights will dance on a regular basis. In the meanwhile I will keep in touch with what is real by getting out from behind my computer desk and immersing myself in both books of God. Maybe when it warms up again I'll find myself sitting on the shore of a lake, listening, watching, praying... being.

Night Celebration

Today something reminded me of a poem I wrote while at seminary. I couldn't find it at first, looking through all my old journals and such. Just when I was going to give up I came across it as part of an article I wrote for The Shepherd (the national magazine of the pre-merger Evangelical Lutheran Church of Canada). For three years I wrote the Youth Page for that magazine - perhaps that got me started on this writing thing which has now developed into this blog. But writing is not the theme of this blog entry, the theme is the aurora borealis - northern lights. I was mentioning to someone in an email that northern lights have always had a special place in my heart, ever since I first saw them. Let me quote the first few paragraphs of that article from The Shepherd before I get to the poem:

The first time I saw them I was a counselor at Camp Kuriakos, a Bible camp by Sylvan Lake, Alberta. I was sitting on the shore of a perfectly calm body of water, reflecting the heavens from its surface. It had been a hectic day and I needed some quiet time so I sat and watched the sky grow darker, the stars grow brighter. Then they came, full of splendor and quiet excitement. I was filled with wonder and joy just by watching them, for it was the first time I had ever seen the Northern Lights.

Somehow as I watched this display, the Northern Lights dancing through the twinkling lights of the Milky Way (complete with some shooting stars every once an a while), I was reminded of God's presence in the world. My mind kept recalling lines from the Psalms. "Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord from the heavens, praise him in the heights! Praise him, all his angels, praise him, all his host! Praise him, sun and moon, praise him, all you shining starts! Praise him, you highest heavens!" (from Psalm 148).

Seeing the heavens praise their Creator like they did that night filled me with a sense of joy and excitement. I felt like I had taken part in a celebration just by my watching. It was a feeling I would get time and time again in the years to come. It was not always the Northern Lights that invoked these feelings of joy and celebration in God's creation, but also sunsets, the Rocky Mountains on a misty day, the colour of trees in the autumn, a waterfall roaring out its constant song. Different scenes like these would bring that joy and wonder, that celebration and awe to the surface again. These were rejuvenation times for me and I thank God, the Creator, for them.
____________

Night Celebration

Tonight I was covered with a blanket of sweeping light -
Colours, form, movement, silent in the night.
Time for a time was gone.
I remember what seems like yesterday,
Angels dancing in the sky.
My thoughts are focused in one,
I wonder what the heavens are trying to say.
Caught up in the motion my spirit begins to fly...

... gently the light disperses and the vision is done.
Timelessness turns back into today,
Yet something remains in my mind's eye;

A scene of Creation
that sung Celebration.

(Written April 15, 1983 after seeing the Northern Lights in the Saskatoon sky.)

Why Speaking is More Dangerous than Listening

"Listen to me, all of you, and understand: there is nothing outside a person that by going in can defile, but the things that come out are what defile." (Mark 7:14-15)

Admittedly in this passage Jesus is referring to the purity and dietary laws of the Jewish tradition, but I was struck upon reading these words tonight how they also reveal a truth about listening versus speaking. When we are more concerned with listening (that is what we are taking into ourselves) rather than speaking (that is what comes out of ourselves) we avoid the consequence of defilement.

All too often when we speak it is to assert power, or an attempt to reclaim power - to say to the other "My ideas are just as important, if not more so, than yours." This is not always the case, there are many situations when speaking is a means of supporting and caring. Even so, sometimes the intended support ends up causing greater injury. Think of the many not-so-helpful things people say to someone grieving the loss of a loved one, clichés like "God needed another angel in heaven" or "They're in a better place now." Well meaning perhaps, but probably more hurtful than helpful.

It seems to me the world would be a much better place if people focused on listening more than speaking. Listening affirms the other person, it tells them they are important, that they are noticed, that they matter. Speaking can have the opposite effect, it tells others that "I am important, that I should be paid attention to, that I matter." This subtle self-centeredness can quickly make a mess of things. A few words can create a lot of hurt, as is written in the letter of James "So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great exploits. How great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire!" (James 3:5)

Listening is more important that speaking, it builds relationships, it creates community, it seeks to understand the other. If we are to truly love others as we love ourselves, it begins with listening. Without listening how else are we to know how best to offer support or help. Without listening how else are we to learn, and thus to grow. Without listening how else are we to hear God calling?

By listening to someone, by taking time to hear their what's in their mind, what's on their heart, we silently express love. By speaking to someone (without caring to listen to them first) we risk running over them with words, injuring or ignoring them. What comes out truly can make the whole situation messy, or unclean. There are times to speak up - when injustice needs to be challenged, when actions are misinterpreted, when affirmation needs to be offered - however I suspect most of the time we talk it is not to do these things, it serves a different agenda. It's time to start listening more.

May you hear the challenge of Christ to listen more than you talk. May the Spirit of God give you the patience and wisdom needed to listen well, and listen often. May your intentional listening reveal you as an agent of peace and love.

The Season of Epiphany should have its own colour

A few years back I began wondering why the Season of Epiphany didn't have its own distinctive colour, identifying it as a unique time in the Church year. When I was a child Advent and Lent shared the same colour - purple. By the time I had reached seminary most congregations that I was aware of had switched to blue as the colour for Advent. Thus Advent and Lent were visually identified as being separate and unique seasons within the church year. This made sense to me since the only connection between Advent and Lent was a sense of expectation, but the overall tone for each of these times in the church year was a complete contrast, and the nature of the anticipation was quite different. So different colours made a lot of sense to me.

For many years it has struck me as odd that the time of Epiphany, with its particular tone and emphasis, got lumped in with Ordinary Time - at least in how it was presented visually in worship. Perhaps part of the issue was the use of green in a decidedly greenless time of the year for Canadians. In the weeks that follow Christmas everything is still in hibernation, kept dormant by snow and cold - there is no growing going on (at least not outside), yet we were told that the use of green in the church paraments was a symbol of growth and life. Winter is not a time of growth and life, at least not in nature. What we Canadians do experience during this time of the year is the coming of the sun - more daylight begins to move into our lives, and that is a great source of hope and comfort.

Epiphany is really a festival celebrating the coming of the Light of the World. The weeks following this feast day are centred in the revelation of that Light to the world. The lectionary readings focus on the beginning of Jesus' ministry - the time when he was being revealed to the world. Thus while it could be called a time of growth and life, I am inclined to think of it more as a time of revelation and inspiration. This all leads me to suggest that the season of Epiphany should be indicated not with the colour green, but rather yellow.

Why yellow? According to Annette Labedzki (an artist who received her BFA at the Emily Carr College of Art and Design in Vancouver, B.C.) yellow "is the color with the closest resemblance to sunlight - the life force on the planet Earth." As the Gospel of John states "The Word was the source of life, and this life brought light to humanity." (John 1:4 - Good News trans.) According to the ReligionFacts website "As the color of light, yellow may be used to represent divinity." Yellow seems to be an ideal colour to signify the revealing of the Light of the World.

It just so happened that at our last Synod Convention there were some handcrafted yellow stoles from India. These stoles were from the MESH program (Maximizing Employment to Serve the Handicapped) a Fair Trade initiative of Canadian Lutheran World Relief. I already had what I thought was a complete set of colours of MESH stoles (green, white, red, purple, blue and black) but here were some yellow stoles being cleared out (at the incredible price of $5 each). I suspect they were being cleared out because no one uses yellow as a liturgical colour. (Gold has been used for Easter and Christmas in some western churches, the Orthodox and Coptic churches use gold - rather than green - when no other colour is specified. Perhaps these yellow stoles were intended to be appear golden in colour, but I simply saw yellow.) The clergy at Christ Lutheran Church in Regina each obtained one of these yellow stoles, and this year we are wearing them during the Season of Epiphany. We would like to encourage others to mark this unique time of the church in a similar fashion - perhaps we are starting a small liturgical innovation here. Yellow - the colour of sunlight, yellow - the colour of Epiphany...why not!?

A Blessing for the Season of Epiphany

God the Creator
gives you the gifts needed
to preserve and enhance
the lives of others.
Be salt for the earth.

God the Spirit
gives you the gifts needed
to shine love and hope
In the lives of others.
Be light for the world

God the Son
calls you as disciples
and gives you as a gift to all.
Be agents of Christ.

The Triune God
bless and keep you
this day, this night,
and in the days to come.

Devil's Tower or Place of Prayer?

Here is another picture featuring a unique geological formation with volcanic material appearing in hexagonal columns. This is the unfortunately named "Devil's Tower" located in north-eastern Wyoming. To the people of the Plains tribes this site was sacred, as evidenced by the many brightly colored pieces of cloth we found hanging in the trees around the base of the Tower: prayer cloths or prayer flags which are physical, symbolic representations of prayers put there by native people as part of their religious ceremonies. It seems that "Devil's Tower" was simply a bad translation of "Bear Lodge", but the white man's name stuck and now something sacred and awe-inspiring is known by a negative moniker.

Truth be told, I initially wanted to visit this site not for its beauty and wonder, but because it was featured in the film "Close Encounters of the Third Kind". However after driving for more than three hours in the worst thunderstorm I have ever been caught in, then camping near the base of this looming rock formation, back-lit by lightning and announced by the distant rumbling of thunder as the storm moved on - I forgot the magic of Hollywood special effects and soaked in the fullness of nature's grandeur. I sensed great power, but not evil, that memorable evening. I tried taking pictures of the formation lit by lightning (at the request of my wife Beth who thought I was too stressed out from driving in the storm to be helpful in setting up camp), however the night pictures did not turn out. The next day my family and I walked around the base of this massive column of rock (which rises over 1200 feet above the near-by river) and that's when I noticed two things: the prayer flags and the huge hexagonal columns which make up the formation (actually the columns can be anywhere from 4 to 7 sided). The columns found on Staffa Island (see the previous post) are similar in nature, though much smaller.

Simply walking in this beautiful setting, exploring this geological wonder from all angles, and enjoying the closeness of my own family made this visit an encounter of a special kind, an encounter of spirit and fellowship. For me this was truly a time and place of prayer. (Photo taken by Dennis August 1, 2005)