Living word by word

Faith, disasters and metaphors

I've been thinking lately about disasters -- not only how frequently they have dominated the news this calendar year, but the frequency with which natural disaster comes up in the Bible.

I agree with Stephen Prospero that it's a good thing that most of us no longer attribute "acts of God" actually to God. We understand natural disastsers much better in our generation, even though we're still pretty poor at predicting them and even worse at preventing them. What's astonishing is that we can endure storm after storm without ever confronting the reality that climate scientists are telling us: extreme weather is partly a function of human-caused climate change.

Even worse, we still avoid confronting the stark economic realities that make persistent drought a difficulty in the American South but a human catastrophe in places like Somalia. The lessons of Hurricane Katrina -- that the most vulernable populations in a storm are, well, the most vulnerable in our community -- are still unlearned, or at least unacted on.

Meanwhile, the startling metaphors of the Old Testament, in which human injustice often leads directly to the "divine" reminders of God's displeasure (think Exodus, or Amos), lose a lot of their umph for us. I'm not saying Pat Robertson or Michelle Bachman are right. I just wish that having better science wouldn't give us an excuse to ignore  the moral questions raised every time the poor are the first to  starve in a famine, be overcome in a flood, or be crushed in an earthquake.

Another day, another "freak" weather event

Bill McKibben, as usual, has hit the nail on the head.

In addition to the tragedy of all the lives affected by our stormy year, there's the tragedy that our political climate still will not allow us to take the long-term view. This isn't about this year's taxes or next year's jobs: it's about a habitable planet.

What I didn't preach

On Holy Saturday I found myself throwing out the first page of my Easter sermon. It wasn't bad -- it just didn't quite lead to the primary meat of the sermon, found on page three, about proclaiming resurrection in the face of killing lies.

But I still like the Easter bilby, and think the Australians are on the right track to declare a vulnerable native species their own mascot for Easter, so here it is:

PROCLAIMING RESURRECTION (page 1)

What if you had to celebrate Easter in the absence of spring – it’s a thought that has probably crossed our minds a few times this year, as snow fell again this week and temperatures have been a little slow to climb.

Of course, as much as we think of Easter as a celebration of spring, there are plenty of Christians in the world who celebrate it without green grass and budding flowers. A whole hemisphere in fact.

You’ve got to feel for them, folks down under. having to proclaim new life in the midst of death. If you were in Australia now, instead of celebrating Easter after the spring equinox for them it is when the days are growing shorter, when the darkness is creeping in and spring blooms are long gone.

Add to that the problem that the symbol the Western world has chosen for this day is a persistent invasive pest. Yes, in the mid 1800’s three – count them three pair – of European rabbits were introduced to the continent, and within a few generations they were overrun with them. This symbol of fertility, New life springing up turned out to be threat to the things that they most needed – like food.

So a few enterprising Australians have taken matters into their own hands and have begun a campaign to replace the Easter bunny with the Easter bilby.

What is a bilby? A bilby is a native marsupial,  It’s kind of  cute –  think aardvark  crossed with a field mouse with really big ears. OK, maybe not as cute as a white rabbit, but definitely cuter than your average house mouse that shows up unwelcome in your kitchen cabinets.

The bilby, unlike the bunny, is native, and it’s having a rather hard time these days. There are probably fewer than a thousand left in the outback, and Australians figure that if new life in the midst of death, celebrating the resurrection in the midst of autumn  needs a small mammal as its mascot, the bilby is it.

After seeing snow on the ground we too might wonder whether Easter might need better timing here in Minnesota, but if you think about it, proclaiming new life in the midst of a dying planet is what we do all the time.

December 18: Fum Fum Fum!

  Little birds out in the wood, fum fum fum!

Little birds out in the wood, fum, fum fum!

Leave your berries bright and good, please do come, O please do come!

Make a soft and downy next so  the newborn may rest, fum fum fum!

This Catalan carol was written for people processing in the street following midnight mass. It is meant to be accompanied by guitar -- thus the "fum fum fum!" repetitions.

There are a few carols written intentionally for guitar accompaniment -- Silent Night being the most well-known of them -- but one of the joys of Christmas is that there is such a variety of vocal styles and instrumental possibilities.

This carol also joins together the call to discipleship -- leave your berries, birds! leave your flocks, shepherds! leave your nets, fishermen! -- with the call to all creation to honor the child.

For us, of course, the call may also come the other way -- now is a good time to remember the birds, whose food supply has been largely buried under snow in recent days.

December 5: the trees stand in judgment

 

Today's second verse you may actually know by heart:

Joy to the earth! The savior reigns!

Let all their songs employ!

While fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains

Repeat the sounding joy! Repeat the sounding joy, repeat, repeat, the sounding joy!

 

    Like the Issac Watts hymn O God, Our Help in Ages Past, this one is also a psalm paraphrase. Psalm 96 is often assigned in the season of Advent, which is why this popular Christmas hymn was once classified as an Advent hymn. The psalm speaks of God's advent in jubilant words; judgment is viewed as a context for rejoicing instead of fear.

    The psalmist imagines all creation joining in the rejoicing when God comes:

    ¹¹ Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad;
   let the sea resound, and all that is in it.
¹² Let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them;
   let all the trees of the forest sing for joy.
¹³ Let all creation rejoice before the LORD, for he comes,
   he comes to judge the earth.
He will judge the world in righteousness
   and the peoples in his faithfulness.

    I love the image of the trees shouting for joy at God's arrival. Lord knows they have had much to weep over during the reign of humankind. In biblical times, the chief cause of deforestation would have been war (think fire and battering rams). In our time, human sin is no less a cause, but it's more likely to be the deleterious effects of an economy that values short-term gains over long-term benefits of the forest.

    What would the trees and hills say to us? I have no doubt they would be glad for God's judgment on human ways. But Watts knows that the final word of God's arrival is not cause for fear. We can join in with fields and floods and trees . . .because we know that Christ comes to reconcile even our relationship with the earth. May you hear them singing along this Advent, and may your life anticipate the things they will say.

 

Shalom Hill postscript

It's been a month since our mission trip to southwest Minnesota. A couple thoughts since then:

Jeff Reed, a fellow blogger from outstate, responded this way to my last post:

"I must be honest though that I was a bit disappointed with your last entry.  You mentioned the wind, something that has driven those of us that live on the prairie crazy since the beginning of time.  You also mentioned that it was a reminder that there isn't much between us and the Rocky Mountains.  I realize that you're speaking about the wind, but unfortunately that's also the prevailing attitude with regard to the land and the people that live here.  Statements like that perpetuate the myth that there isn't anything here of value, that the land and the people don't really matter.  I believe it is precisely because of that myth that our agricultural system is what it is today; we can do anything we want to the land and the people of the plains because after all it is "fly over" territory.  Ironically I think that's what your trip was to demonstrate that it isn't just "fly over" terrritory, that the people here and the land do indeed matter."

To which I can only say, "yes!" I in no way intended to say that there's not much of value between the prairie and the Rockies -- only that the wind's strength points out how flat the landscape is. Is it valuable? Absolutely! You don't see the Rocky Mountains providing lots of food, do you? So, my apologies for any unintended slight to the wonderful inhabitants of these wide open spaces.

Secondly, I've heard back from a number of parents about the impact of this mission trip, which was the closest and cheapest that our congregation has conducted for some time. I'm hearing reports of label-reading at the grocery store and lots of thought going into where our food comes from. You don't have to go far to learn a lot. Thanks again to everyone at Shalom Hill!

Shalom Hill update #5

Greetings from our last night on the hill!

           

The wind is blowing much stronger today: a constant reminder that there isn’t much between us and the Rocky Mountains. The usefulness of trees for windbreaks becomes more and more clear.

           

Today our focus in Bible Study and activities was humankind. We talked a bit this morning about what that troublesome command to “have dominion” over the earth might mean, and what kind of caretaking we humans are called to.

 

Then, we were off to Heron Lake, where we were welcomed into the basement of the town library, which also houses the Heron Lake food shelf. To say it’s a small operation is an understatement; it’s staffed solely by volunteers from the United Methodist youth group, and is open weekly for just a couple hours. Nevertheless, the need is great. We heard a great presentation from a Heron Lake resident who is also on staff at the Heartland Second Harvest Food Bank in Maplewood about a new initiative to end hunger in Minnesota. Low-income Minnesotans miss an average of 10 dinners a month, and a new cooperative effort of research and planning hopes to end that. The statistics from rural Minnesota are particularly startling. In this and adjoining counties, poverty rates range from 20-25% of the population.

 

Just after days of hearing about the difficulties for farmers with the current agribusiness system, and the fact that this abundant soil is mostly NOT going toward food fit for human consumption, the hunger statistics both make sense and are deeply troubling. It was heartening to hear about concrete efforts across government, business and non-profit sectors.

 

Still in Heron Lake, we spent the rest of the morning weeding a community garden run by the local chapter of Future Farmer’s of America. Guided by local high school students, we made some good progress keeping the weeds at bay. We had lunch in town in Windom and then finished out our “human” day at a local nursing home. Over root beer floats we chatted with the residents there and then played “card bingo” and sang for them.  For my part, I heard some great stories from a retired farmer who recalled in great detail a tornado that hit his farm in 1944. The residents seemed very pleased to have us visit with them.

 

It’s our last evening at the farm. Tomorrow we’ll head back to the Cities with lots of stories, even more questions, and motivation to be mindful of the interconnections between farm and market, land and food, city and country. We’re grateful to April, Rae, Margaret and Mark for sharing their home with us and introducing us to the complexity beneath the surface of this wide open landscape.

 

Watch this page in future days for pictures! 

Shalom Hill update #4

    It was animal day here at Shalom Hill, meaning that we were up earrrrrrrrrrrly to visit a dairy farm! Every one of these city kids had a chance to milk a cow, and we all got to hear about a small family dairy operation. We're thinking of a great game of trivia for all the adults when we return. This particular farm has just 30-35 milkers at a time, and all the milk goes eventually into cheese. (I'm getting hungry just thinking of it, since I'm writing this just before dinner).

    We had breakfast after that excursion, then headed out again for a busy morning of 3 stops: 1) a soybean biodiesel plant, the only one in the state currently in operation; 2) another small family farm, this one raising mostly hogs, and 3) a strawberry pick-your-own farm! It was a lot to squeeze in, but each stop provided plenty of learning.

   We're learning a lot about the economics of this area. The hog farmer described how, in the wake of the swine flu, prices dropped so much that he was taking a $20 loss on every hog he raised. Given that his normal profit margins are less than 5%, he doesn't have a lot of time for the mindset of large corporations that expect double digit profits.  The strawberry patch we visited seemed quite large, but in fact it is only 2% of the farm's total business. They make most of their money with a nursery raising trees for the kinds of soil and water conservation projects we learned about yesterday. 

  The group especially enjoyed the strawberry picking, and we returned to Shalom Hill with buckets of berries that we later cleaned and prepared for freezing (and eating -- tonight). After lunch we worked on a variety of projects around the farm, including more weeding, varnishing some of the outdoor furniture on-site, and picking mulberries. The group has been very hardworking, and in the company of so many industrious people, it feels good to play some small part in the operation of this place. 

 After a very busy morning and afternoon everyone is enjoying the downtime before dinner now. The group is enjoying well-earned showers, board games, and playing with the farm cats. Every group on these mission trips seems to have its own character - if I had to name that spirit for this group, I would say it is laughter. Even more than some other years, these nine youth seem to enjoy one another's company and make the most of their time together. The laughing is a lovely sound to hear.

The wind is picking up outside -- we're planning a bonfire and s'mores for the evening -- we hope the weather will cooperate. In any case, there's not a cloud in the sky, so the stars will be spectacular.

  

Shalom Hill trip, day 3

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

It’s another gorgeous day in Windom – quite warm in the sun but very pleasant in the shade.

Today our theme -- as we work our way through Genesis 1 --  was plants. Although a variety of scheduling changes along the way haven’t always kept themes strictly within the day, today's activities fit together quite well. We finished our morning devotion around a 100-year-old cottonwood tree on the property here.

We started out at the local offices of the Cottonwood Soil and Water Conservation District.  An educator there told us a bit about their work with local landowners and farmers, including planting 600,000 trees in the last 20 years. He then led us through a very engaging presentation and game about trees. We learned about everything from rainforest biodiversity to the emerald ash borer. For the record, in the trivia game the 17-and-over half of the group triumphed over the youngsters.

It was a little ironic that the focus was on trees, because we are, after all, on the prairie here. Except for areas that stayed cool and moist, and therefore were protected from fire, there weren’t many trees in this area before farmers began to settle here. This is the “outer coteau” of the tall grass prairie that extends west into south Dakota. Trees, however, are beloved by  residents of the area, so there’s ongoing conversation about finding that balance between human need for shade and windbreak, and restoring the native grasses of the area. (More about that after lunch).

We spent the lunch hour at a lake park in Windom, playing volleyball, swimming and enjoying some pizza. For the record, the winning volleyball team was always the one that was not facing into the sun (no matter what Andrew says).

After lunch we visited the Windom Wetland Management District, a waterfowl refuge which is part of the national network of wildlife refuges. Besides seeing lots of wildflowers and a pair of trumpeter swans (!), we heard about the work of the Youth Conversation Corps and more about the various agencies that are responsible for conserving our natural resources. Again, we had conversation about trees here, because the waterfowl folks do controlled burns and remove trees from waterfowl areas. For them, trees are perches and habitat for predators that can wipe out a nest of ducks or turtles in a night.

Our host also gave us an interesting window into the work of conservation folk. Before coming to wetland restoration, he was a game warden in Iowa, and grew weary of the law enforcement aspects of that job, especially when chasing down poachers often meant finding meth labs too.

Back at Shalom Hill we finally had what I would call a "real" rural Minnesota dinner: Tater-tot casserole, dinner rolls and red jello with bananas. 

Our evening program was viewing “King Corn,” a documentary about the ways in which corn so dominates our agricultural scene and food industry, to the detriment of the soil and our bodies.  Around here, it’s all corn and beans, and it’s very clear that it’s hard for anyone who wants to make a living farming crops to grow anything else. This led to some intense discussion among all of us about what can be done with such an enormously dysfunctional system. Pastor Mark, the director here, was helpful in pointing out that small changes do make a difference, and that our very presence here this week is part of that change.

We're going to bed early tonight: tomorrow morning is milking time!

           

Shalom Hill update #2

Monday June 28, 2010

 

It’s been a beautiful sunny day in Cottonwood County.

 

We started our day with a Bible study about the gifts of air and water. Pastor Margaret, one of the leaders of Prairie Star Ministries, asked us to recount how many times we used water before breakfast, then relayed the story of a trip she took to a partner ministry in South Africa, when as guests they unthinkingly used up the entire next day’s limited water supply flushing the toilet in the night. By morning, the tank that was supposed to supply their day’s washing and drinking was gone.

 

Here, at the moment though, there’s plenty of water, due to recent storms. Standing water in the fields is a bad thing for farmers, and it’s clear that these temporary lakes will present some losses to some of these farmers.

 

There are several staff here at Shalom Hill who are part of hosting our visit: Pastors Mark and Margaret, who own the property and began the retreat ministry here; Juanita and Rae, who fill a variety of functions including programming and cooking, and April, a local college student who was our guide for the day. (More about her later).

 

We spent the morning visiting the Heron Lake community. First stop was a family farm that has diversified beyond corn with a small number of beef cattle, chickens, and a large vegetable garden. Started as an FFA project by their daughter, the garden is particularly impressive. Years later, it is now a full-time summer job for Barb Pohlmann, who sells the produce 5 days a week in various community farmers' markets.  Barb is known as the “tomato queen,”: she grows and sells 2 tons of tomatoes from a nursery they constructed for that purpose. She also teaches special education in the local high school, drives the combine in the fall, and quilts enough to sell those wares too.

 

Needless to say, we are learning that farming is not for the lazy. April, who is studying dairy production at SDSU in Brookings and grew up nearby here on a family dairy farm, told us that college was a hard adjustment for her, because she is so accustomed to doing chores after classes are over. At first she didn’t know what do with her time

 

We had lunch at the “Mini-Mart”, actually a gas station/ café in Heron Lake.  April tells us that the new divided highway has routed a lot of potential business around this little town, but the café was still hopping and provided us with good burgers, fries, and homemade pie.

 

Our afternoon had an unexpected change in plans: we had been scheduled to tour a local soybean plant, but the only staff person available to speak to us was ill today, so we headed back to Shalom Hill earlier in the afternoon. Fortunately, it was not difficult to start our planned service project early. Our task: weeding their enormous vegetable gardens. All the rain here has meant that weeds have gotten a bit out of hand, but 12 people can do amazing things in a few hours. So now our students can identify carrot shoots, and the garden that will feed us and others this week looks a lot better!

 

After another delicious dinner, we were paid a visit from a local farmer who was instrumental in starting a local wind farm. He described the complex process of getting approval for, financing, building and maintaining 12 incredibly large turbines, each of which can power 350-450 homes a year.  Ironically, he thinks the majority of their power probably ends up getting used at the nearby ethanol plant.

 

We are asking lots of questions, loving the beautiful land here, and enjoying being together. Thank you to ECLC for your support of this trip!