Earth Day and Beginnings

Today if the feast of St. Mark, writer of the first gospel and a companion of Paul and Barnabas on several of their missionary journeys. As Mark 1:1 states, “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Mark’s gospel contains the bones of what Matthew and Luke later fleshed out. It is like Genesis, in a sense; both are stories of beginning, which are still studied and revered.

Rather than focus on Mark, which has been done more justice than I could do it, I want to concentrate on the 50^th anniversary of Earth Day this past week. The idea of caring for the earth and its resources is a concept far older than Earth Day and goes back to the earliest chapters of the Bible. Earth and all stars were created by God and given to us to care for and nurture so that it might provide for us abundantly.

These days it seems that the earth has suffered from a lack of care, which seems to get worse every year. It has been the nature of humankind to make working the land to improve production and to ease the burden of labor needed to make those improvements.  For centuries, the load on the earth and it’s surrounding skies and waters worked together with humankind. Then humans got greedy. They built bigger and bigger factories, put more and more of the land under cultivation, and began to use fertilizers and insecticides in greater profusion until the land could hold no more and the rains carried the poisons into the waters that many depended on for drinking, cooking, bathing, and watering the crops.


With the industrial age, factories belched more gasses into the air, sometimes making the atmosphere so thick with the gray-black smoke that surfaces of buildings in the cities grew dark in color, the sun was blotted out, clothes hung out to dry came in almost as dirty as they were before washing. People began to cough more frequently, became more unhealthy, and many died of respiratory distress, pneumonia, tuberculosis, and other diseases. Out in the countryside, there was a growing disparity between rich and poor, but at least people could still see green trees and grass. Rain and snow could make life more tedious and challenging, but the sun would eventually return with the blue skies.


Earth Day was established to encourage people to see what was happening to Earth’s health. Waters were dirty, polluted, and full of discards and contaminants. The air was getting thicker, and more and more respiratory problems cropped up. The chase to make more and more money while still accumulating more and more disposable goods grew more heated. It used up the stored resources of the ground, leaving dust to blow and the climate to change. There had been small changes, but for every step forward, people took two, three, or four steps backward in other areas. That’s what Earth Day was created to do—remind people that Earth needed help and that God wanted us to take care of those problems.  

Then came the global pandemic, COVID-19. There may be places on earth where it has not reached, but the number of countries, cities, and towns that it has hit has increased daily. Both numbers of those ill with the virus and the death list are still growing in most places. Those who practice the most rigorous practices like self-isolation, keeping a distance between others when out in public, wearing appropriate masks, and avoiding crowds seem to be helping. Still, many are beginning to feel their need to go on as usual (now referred to as the “old” normal) and the heck with anybody else’s health, rights, or even acknowledgment of their right to safety and well-being.


There is one side effect of the COVID-19 pandemic that some are beginning to notice. With fewer people driving and tossing pollutants in the air from auto exhaust, less need for public transportation with its accompanying noise and pollution, and the chance for people to stop and look around, it’s becoming more noticeable that the sky is bluer, the air is fresher, and things that are often hidden, like mountain ranges and more distant vistas than we have seen in quite some time, are now visible. In northern India, the Himalayas are now visible with their snow-cropped glory. That view hasn’t been seen in many years, and it is breathtaking.  The sun sparkling on the ripples in streams, creeks, rivers, and oceans is like seeing tiny jewels scattered on the surface. The trees seem to be greener, and the animals more relaxed, even to the point of appearing in places where they usually hide from the noise and bustle of traffic and passers-by.


The whole Earth, or most of it, anyway, seems happier and more at ease. But the difference in just a couple of months of individual isolation and cuts in industrial pollution appears to have made a big difference already. I’m trying just to enjoy what I can see, hear, smell, and feel now, without looking ahead to a fast return to what we had before the sequestering. I also wish it could continue even after we return to what is probably going to be a “new” normal.


God gave us the Earth and its surroundings to care for and work with. I will try to cut back on what little driving I do, run all my errands in one well-planned route, and not be so profligate with electricity, water, and household necessities. Maybe my little contribution in honor of Earth and Earth Day may not make much of a difference, but I think God will be pleased if I try my hardest to be careful in all I do, thinking of others and the environment as my neighbors, and listening for God to tell me what else I need to do.


God bless.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café  Saturday, April 25, 2020.

Following the Pillars

When Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them by way of the land of the Philistines, although that was nearer; for God thought, ‘If the people face war, they may change their minds and return to Egypt.’ So God led the people by the roundabout way of the wilderness towards the Red Sea. The Israelites went up out of the land of Egypt prepared for battle. And Moses took with him the bones of Joseph, who had required a solemn oath of the Israelites, saying, ‘God will surely take notice of you, and then you must carry my bones with you from here.’ They set out from Succoth, and camped at Etham, on the edge of the wilderness. The Lord went in front of them in a pillar of cloud by day, to lead them along the way, and in a pillar of fire by night, to give them light, so that they might travel by day and by night. Neither the pillar of cloud by day nor the pillar of fire by night left its place in front of the people. --  Exodus 13:17-22



The book of Exodus is a continuation of the story of Israel that began in Genesis. At this point in the story, God has sent plagues to Egypt, ultimately ending with the deaths of all the firstborn of Egypt. Pharaoh finally agreed to let the people go from Egypt, which the Jews still celebrate with Passover. They were free to leave and followed Moses out into the desert. Moses took with him the bones of their ancestor, Joseph, so that they could bury him in the land he had left centuries before. Joseph had asked for this on his deathbed, and Moses remembered the promise. 


The part that caught my attention today was the mention of God not permitting them to wander around aimlessly. Lacking GPS instruments, maps, or even compasses, the only other natural way of geographical guidance would have been using the stars at night to determine direction.  God instead sent two phenomena to guide them in the direction God wanted them to travel. Sometimes this meant going backward, returning to somewhere they might already have been, but it was all for a purpose, and God made sure they didn’t stray.


Sometimes I think it would be good if we had a pillar of cloud by day and one of fire by night so that we could be sure of the direction God wants us to go. It would be easier than trying to figure it out by trial and error. Sure, the Bible guides us, and we have the opportunity for meditation and prayer, which can enable us to listen for God’s direction; however, individual interpretation and discernment can often take people in different directions even when using the same scriptures and requests.

There are lots of times when we need guidance and leadership beyond the power of GPS, maps, or compasses. In times of trial and often danger, geographical assistance isn’t the answer, but leadership is.  


Imagine a line of people, perhaps several miles long, transmitting instructions from Moses by passing it along from person to person like we used to do in the game we used to play as children. One person starts by whispering a message to the next person in line, who then turns to the person behind them and whispering what they had heard. By the time the last person gets the message, it usually bears little resemblance to the original. If transmitting a simple message among eight or ten people can change so much, imagine what passing along a verbal signal down a long line would produce. That’s what makes the visible pillars of cloud and fire a much better guidance system. It was apparent to all, and everybody would move in the proper direction.


Many of the world’s leaders have spoken messages of hope, support, and encouragement aimed toward the citizens of the nations they lead, but whose words have been transmitted around the globe, encouraging others in the far corners of the world. Those messages are not about blame, shame, or comparison; they were words of faith, resilience, and courage. They encourage that is thinking of others instead of just oneself or one’s family, contributing in whatever way possible to make life in difficult times easier for the elderly, families with unemployed breadwinners, and children. These words uplift us and make us aware that we are not alone. Although sometimes it may feel God is far away and not answering our pleas, we find assurance that, as Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II, said, “We will meet again,” with our families, and fellow humans. Other world leaders have used different words, but with the same underlying sentiment. 


Perhaps these words are the pillars of cloud and fire that we need these days. Maybe these, as well as the words of the Bible, are moral and physical guideposts that keep us on the right path that will ultimately keep us safe, as well as remind us that this pandemic will not last forever. They tell us to do what is necessary for ourselves and our neighbors to get us through these tough times and bring us out on the other side to what perhaps will be a new normal, a new place in our lives. 


Keep the faith. Look for the signals to guide us through this turmoil. Trust God to get us through this, but remember to follow the rules that are for our benefit and that of our neighbors. Even God needs our help and our hands in times like these. 


God bless. Stay safe. Love your neighbor by helping them stay safe as well. The Bible says so.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café Saturday, April 18, 2020. 

Holy Saturday and the Joy to Come

This is the seventh, or maybe the eighth, year I’ve written about Holy Saturday. It’s gotten to be a fixture on my calendar, even though the dates change from year to year.

Usually, I write about the flurry of activity at the church on the morning of Holy Saturday, with preparations going on for the Easter Vigil, often held on Saturday night, and the succession of Easter services beginning very early Sunday morning. The members of the Altar Guild are busily arranging lilies and flowers, polishing the pews and altar rails, bringing out the Paschal Candle, and placing it in its tall stand, as well as putting out small candles with their paper collars to catch dripping wax for the Vigil. They set the altar with the brightest, whitest fair linens. The brass and silver items have been polished until they gleam. The altar that was bare on Friday evening is now covered with the vessels and candles that show the joy and celebration that will come on Sunday morning.

This year, though, is unlike any of the Holy Saturdays I’ve written about before. Granted, some churches will have their usual pre-Easter business in preparation for Easter services without congregations, and only a few clergy and/or laypeople there to transmit the services to those who join them via the Internet. It will be a very different kind of Easter celebration. Still, it will happen, regardless of the reason that the pews that the usually overflowing are empty.

Holy Saturday is always kind of a catch-your-breath kind of day, after the busyness of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Stations of the Cross,  and the Maundy Thursday vigil. Easter will be a hectic day, and generally, the Monday following Easter is very quiet with clergy and lay workers taking the day off to recoup their energies after a very strenuous week. The thing about Holy Saturday this year is that people are staying home, possibly with a short venture out to the store for last-minute supplies (if they can find them), and then back home to wash their hands profusely and wipe down the items they’ve bought. Unless they work from home, it will be a day very much like every day for the past couple of weeks. People will read, watch streaming TV or cable programming, possibly yard work, and do the usual chores that have to be done.  Homes with children will color Easter eggs for the Easter Bunny to hide, whether inside or in the yard. Ingredients for tomorrow’s meal will be assembled, as will the Easter baskets full of chocolate, marshmallow bunnies and chicks, golden coins, and dyed eggs.  It is still a busy day

One important thing to think about is tomorrow. It will be different not going to church in new clothes and shoes, sometimes with corsages and boutonnieres pinned or tucked on the front. There won’t be people going out to pack restaurants and filling up on ham, turkey, prime rib, crown rib, lamb, or anything else. Perhaps many will have ordered a meal for the whole family and will pick it up on Saturday to be warmed up on Sunday. There will be smaller groups than usual at the table, and many more tables in various homes will have perhaps only one or two sitting there, sharing a festive meal.

One thing that won’t change about tomorrow is that it is indeed Easter Sunday, the day we commemorate the day Jesus rose from the dead and returned to us in human form before ascending to heaven forty days later. Just because we may be in self-imposed (or even governmentally-imposed) quarantine, it doesn’t change the fact that Jesus is risen, after a period of despair and hopelessness, and has conquered death, just as we all will at some point in time. He promised this, and Jesus’s promises are things we can believe in wholeheartedly, even amid disease, exhaustion, and fear. Jesus has risen! We should be rejoicing!

We have tomorrow to look forward to, no matter what is going on outside in the world around us. Even if the church bells are silent, the churches are empty, and the day feels very much like every other day lately, we still remember it is Easter, and we should rejoice! If we can’t shout it from the housetops, we should always shout it in our hearts and minds, and be glad.

Forgive me if I am jumping the gun on Easter. Things have been gloomy, frustrating, fear- and anxiety-filled these past days, and I am not the only person on earth to feel this way. Perhaps this Easter may turn out to be the most joyous one ever, simply because it is something that brings us hope in the darkness, celebration amid despair, and a reason for rejoicing despite all the gloom and doom. Easter is something to be celebrated, no matter what the circumstances. Perhaps those in the early church believed this more than we are today, simply because their lives were much like ours now—with little to celebrate and much to dismay us.  Easter for them was a reminder that better things are coming, even if it takes a while. Easter gives us that opportunity to remember and to kindle a little spark of hope in our own hearts and lives, and also to share that joy with others, even if it is over a medium like the Internet.

To quote the Psalmist, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning (Ps. 30:5c-d). To quote Captain Jean-Luc Picard, “Make it so!”

Christus Anesti! Joyeux Pâques! Felices Pascuas!  Frohe Ostern! God Påske! Maligayang Pasko ng Pagkabuhay!

God bless us all.

Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, Saturday, April 11, 2020.

The Coming of Passover

Exodus 10:21-11:8


Israel had been in Egypt for something like 400 years and wanted to leave. Moses had applied to Pharaoh several times to let them go to the desert to worship God and make sacrifices, but the king wouldn’t allow it. God told Moses to throw down his staff and would make it turn into a serpent. Moses complied, but instead of being impressed, Pharaoh had his priests throw their staffs down, and they turned into snakes too! Even when Moses’ serpent ate all the other snakes, Pharaoh wasn’t impressed, so Moses left the court to confer with God once again.

Thus began the struggle between God and Pharaoh, with Moses as God’s representative. Each time Moses went to the king to ask him to let the Israelites go, Pharaoh would first agree, then change his mind. After each confrontation, God would tell Moses to go and raise his staff and something would happen to the Egyptians.  They went through numerous episodes, starting with the Nile turning to blood and then other plagues, each one worse than the previous. After each plague, Moses would go to Pharaoh and ask for him to let the Israelites go into the desert to worship God with sacrifices. Pharaoh would first say “yes, go,” but before Moses could get to the door, Pharaoh would change his mind yet again, and the Israelites had to stay.

Today’s reading tells of the last two meetings between Pharaoh and Moses. This time, when Pharaoh once again said no, God told Moses to hold up his hand toward heaven, and Egypt plunged into darkness, but the Israelites had light wherever they went. After three days, Pharaoh called Moses to court and said that the Israelites and their children could go, but the herds and flocks had to stay behind. Moses reiterated that the livestock was necessary because they had to make sacrifices to God in the desert, but Pharaoh would not change his mind. Not only did he tell Moses to get out of his sight, but that he would kill Moses if he ever saw him again. Each time Moses had gone to court, God had softened Pharaoh’s heart but then hardened it again. It was like building up to a grand finale, and this time the people would be released.

The reading takes us as far as God telling Moses that in the darkest part of the night, God would go among the Egyptians, killing every firstborn child and offspring of the livestock. God promised that this time, they would not only be allowed to leave but would be commanded to go out of Egypt.

We know what happens next. God did what God promised, and every household in Egypt produced wailing and anguish while the Israelites prepared their last meal in captivity. As God had told Moses, God’s people were allowed to leave with everything they owned, but not until after the meal was finished. To the Jews, this is the seminal celebration of their people, the first night of Passover, celebrated with the Seder of food, wine, and narrative of how they had become free. During this coming week, from sundown April 8th to sundown April 16th, Jews worldwide will celebrate Passover, their deliverance from Egypt and the beginning of their journey to the Holy Land promised to them by God.

As we wrestle with our particular kind of affliction this year, it seems almost as if it were for us a reminder of what freedom is. Like the Israelites, we watched as the COVID-19 virus began to take hold across various parts of the world while we sat comfortably and hoped for it to pass over us as the plagues passed over the Israelites in Egypt. Now it is among us, and no one is genuinely immune or safe from it. It strikes from the highest echelons to the lowest, striking elders and now even a newborn indiscriminately. Where is God in all this?

No, I don’t think God sent this COVID-19 to punish us for our evildoings, although it is showing us where evil, greed, and bragging has gotten us. We have shortages of medical protection, no vaccine, exhausted medical professionals, and first responders, and scarcity of even the most necessary household products, food, and cleansers. We hear that it will be over by Easter, then extended to May, and now even June doesn’t look very optimistic. One day we hear that only a few have been affected only to be informed a day or two later that it is worse but not nearly as bad as had been anticipated. We see the figures for the rising number of cases and the sad statistic of the number of dead and wonder where it will end. In the meantime, where is God, now that churches are closed, even for Holy Week and Easter?

Where is God? Right here and right now. Just as the Egyptians could do nothing to relieve their suffering during the plagues, so most of us are trapped in self-quarantine, afraid to go out, afraid to say hello to the neighbors, and angry that we cannot find necessities at the grocery, even if we are brave enough to go into one. Perhaps we should take a lesson from the Jews who celebrate the deliverance that hadn’t yet come but was imminent on that first night of Passover, so many centuries ago.  


This year churches will not sponsor congregational Seders, but perhaps there will be Jewish friends who will add theirs to YouTube so that we can see and visually share with them. We won’t have Holy Week and Easter in our churches, but there are many, many churches and cathedrals offering online services that we can watch and join in even if only virtually. Maybe this will be our Passover, the beginning of our release from fear and hatred, anxiety, and false promises. I hope so, anyway.

In the meantime, Gut Yontiff, Chag Sameach, Moadim l’Simchah, and Happy Passover. God will deliver us, just have faith, and it will come.

God bless us all.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café Saturday, April 4, 2020.