Timber, Awe, and Wonder

"...the awe and wonder come from a deep intuition of the sacred gift of the tree."
Photo taken in the woods. There is bright green ground cover. One tall, thick,
moss-covered tree stands in the foreground, lit from the back and right side
by the sun rising through the trees at a distance to the right. The photo is
awash in the greens and pale yellows of spring or early summer.

On vacation I care for a small forest in the Maine woods. My idea of a perfect vacation day is forestry in the morning and books in a hammock in the afternoon. My favorite tool is my Stihl MS 271 chainsaw, 50cc’s of throbbing, purring power for felling and processing trees destined for our wood stove.  

Holding a chainsaw calms me. The growl of the engine muffled through ear protection, the vibrations running up through my hands and arms, the smell of fresh, tart sawdust kicking off the chain onto my jeans - focus my scattered mind and engulf me into the moment.  

When an 80 foot tree that is two-and-a-half feet thick is almost fully severed and just on the edge of toppling, time freezes and my ears perk up for the cracking of wood that presages the fall. Will it go the direction I intend or will it totter toward me? The thrill is electric and the shout of, “Timber!” is part relief and part triumph when its massive bulk plummets away from me.  

The tree thunders to the ground and strikes the earth like a massive drumstick on a bass drum. “Wump” is part noise and part feeling in my feet. My response is awe and wonder. I am not impressed by the act of felling the tree. No, the awe and wonder come from a deep intuition of the sacred gift of the tree.

For one hundred years or more that tree was growing and processing sunlight, rain, and soil into a massive stalk of wood fiber and generation after generations of leaves and seeds. From a sapling it developed into a tower of grace and beauty that sheltered the birds and squirrels and insects. The storms it witnessed. The winter weight of snow it bore. The stories if could tell.  

Sacred. The sacred gift calls out a prayer. The sacred gift calls out awe and wonder and in turn the prayer and these feelings change forever how we walk on the earth. Because we know she is sacred.

Blessings,

The Rev. Jarrett Kerbel

Rector

Butterfly House

"I am so grateful that God reaches us through God’s creatures."
Image: A yellow morph (female) Eastern Tiger Swallowtail butterfly perches, 
wings spread open flat, on one in a bunch of purple cone flowers.

I approached the butterfly house with low expectations. From the outside, I could not see much through the black mesh of the quonset hut at my local Watershed Headquarters. Upon entering, however, a cloud of bright, colorful butterflies fluttered all around me in an enchanting swirl of gentle wings.

My heart melted. A sense of joy and gratitude swelled. Happy tears filled my eyes and my whole face smiled.

Beauty. Goodness. Diversity. Adaptive Creativity. Delight. Gentleness. Freedom. God was powerfully present in God’s creatures. God’s gift of God’s whole self - i.e. God’s grace - resets our hearts, re-tunes our mind and restores us to our most soulful state - alive, serene, emotionally available, heartfelt, grateful, receptive, appreciating.

I am so grateful that God reaches us through God’s creatures. I am so grateful that God has flooded creation with goodness and excellence that resemble and point to the ultimate goodness of God.

When we are under stress or brought low by the assaults of bad news, it is helpful to remember that the good is there and that it surpasses the bad in every way. As people of faith in the risen Christ, we know that evil is passing away - a defeated remnant. As people of faith in our good Creator God, we know that evil has no positive existence in itself; it is only ever the negation of the good. All that really exists is what God called good and very good from the beginning.

It is no accident that butterflies are a common symbol of risen life in Christ.

Blessings,
The Rev. Jarrett Kerbel
Rector


What creatures make you think of God's creativity, love, and beauty? Let us know in the comments.

Also, please save the date for our St. Francis Day Blessing of the Animals on Sunday, October 6, 2019 at 2:00 p.m. You can find us both in Pastorius Park and right here at St. Martin's at that time.