Greening Our Worship

This is a piece I wrote for the June edition of the SA Uniting Church paper New Times, when the theme was on what churches are doing to combat Climate Change:

You’ve changed the light globes, added the option to receive the weekly newsletter on line rather than on recycled paper, cleaned the gutters, installed a rain water tank and switched to Fair Trade tea and coffee. You’ve written to the transport authority with a request for more frequent Sunday morning bus runs, installed bike racks and petitioned the Government to stop subsidizing our dependence on fossil fuels. Now you wonder, what is next?

Where I worship there never was any light globes to change nor gutters to clear. Here the only power is solar, and I don’t mean that which goes on the roof and fires up the data projector. The solar power we rely on for light and warmth is that which follows night and has, for a very long time, been a sure and certain thing. For two and a half years the Eco-faith community has been gathering under the trees in Botanic Park, rain, hail or shine. For obvious reasons, greening our worship has taken a different focus than reducing our carbon footprint through changing our property. We have used six common liturgical practices through which to focus our efforts at living more environmentally sustaining lives: awe, lament, embodiment, listening to our sacred story, communion and Sabbath.

Seated on lush green grass, under a turquoise blue dome and a canopy of leaves, accompanied by a choir of birds, awe towards the magnificence of creation and the amazing imagination of the Creator seems to rise as easily as breath. Meeting where we do each week we have become attuned to the Seasons and to the elements. We take notice. Awakened to wonder, awe spreads like wildflowers into our everyday lives. Worshipping the God of Life in the very tangible presence of creation increases our reverence for the whole of life. We feel in our bones that “where there is an absence of awe there is destruction.”(-Lao Tzu) is a true and accurate explanation for much of the harm that is done. Considering “the lilies of the fields and the birds of the air” becomes a lived, felt experience not an abstract axiom when in the very midst of the those lilies and those birds

Opening our hearts to wonder also opens them to grief and concern about the environment. We choose to notice the cost of not living in right relationship with God, self, neighbours (human and non-human) and the earth. We seek to be more informed (did you know that we would need 8 planet earths if the whole world were to live like the average Adelaidian?) We lament the way we live and acknowledge how hard it is for us to change.

We pay attention to using and moving our bodies in worship, especially when we pray, so as to be in touch with our own creatureliness.

In attending to our sacred text, we listen especially for the ways in which the subversive wisdom of Jesus might influence our own practices of living. Input from the worship leader is brief; a tantalising enticement to conversation, to which all are invited to have their say.

Our idea of communion is far broader than the Eucharistic meal. We delight in taking the radically inclusive nature of Christian communion to extend to more than just those who are present and more than just to the human race. The magpies who gather on the edge of our circle remind us that we are a part of life, not the centre of it. We like to acknowledge those who have gone before – creatures who once lived where we meet; the traditional custodians, the Kaurna; those who had the foresight to plant the trees whose majesty they would never see; people who have influenced us for better. In our four directions prayer we also like to pray for those who are far way and for the future, that life which is yet to come.

All Christian worship is a derivative of the Hebrew notion of the Sabbath. Within our worship we have instituted some particular Sabbath practices, like 10 minutes of time to walk, wander, or sit in quiet and stillness on our own. We also encourage each other to engage in other Sabbath practices at times when we are not meeting, like Buy Nothing Day or Earth Hour. Traditionally the Sabbath was a 24 hour period when the faithful were forbidden to engage in any activity which might be seen as an attempt to improve upon creation. Even God kept it (still keeps it?) For us it is a time to leave aside our cleverness – usually just for an hour or two. One person says that the fact that there is no PowerPoint to distract her is one of the very reasons she worships with us. It’s time out from our getting and spending, having and holding culture. A time to notice what God is doing and be thankful, to re-connect, to reflect and make decisions about how we want to live. A famous frog once said,”its not easy being green”. The way I see it, it’s soon going to be much harder to be anything other than green.

Today I am reflecting on whether the practices we use in worship on a Sunday morning carry through to the whole of life: are they practices for life as well as for worship?

Summer is on its way!

With the warm days we've been having in Adelaide recently I can really feel Summer in the air. And Summer is all about delicious salads. Here's a totally yummy recipe by the wonderful, but sadly departed, Linda McCartney from her book, "Linda's Kitchen".

Pasta and Bean Salad with Basil and Pecorino

250g pasta bows
1 red capsicum, roasted and peeled (see note)
1 yellow capsicum, roasted and peeled (see note)
175g green beans, lightly cooked (or snow peas, or asparagus)
125g canned red kidney beans
3 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley
handful of fresh basil leaves
50g pecorino or parmesan cheese, shaved

Soy and lemon dressing:
juice of 1 lemon
3-4 tablespoons soy sauce
6 tablespoons sesame oil (I mix sesame and olive oil)
1 teaspoon grated fresh ginger
1 clove garlic, crushed
freshly ground black pepper

1. Cook pasta in boiling water until 'al dente'. Rinse under cold water and drain well.
2. Mix the capsicum, pasta, green beans, kidney beans and parsley in a salad bowl. Combine the dressing ingredients, add to salad, and toss gently until thoroughly mixed together.
3. Finally, fold in basil and cheese.

*Note: to roast capsicums, places large pieces, skin side up, under a hot grill until blackened. Place in a paper bag and when cool enough to be handled, peel the skin off (do not rinse under water).

Great picnic food, or for warm Summer nights out on the verandah :)

Water

This week (October 19 - 25) is National Water Week. A recently published book titled Water: the Essence of Life reveals that it takes 25 litres of water to grow a potato, 50 litres to grow an orange, 118 litres to make a glass of wine, 168 litres to make a pint of beer and 2400 litres to make a hamburger. Sobering statistics for the driest inhabited continent on Earth, with 70 per cent of its mass comprising desert or semi-desert. The vast majority of water on the Earth's surface (over 98 percent) is salty water in the oceans. It is the freshwater resources, such as the water in streams, rivers, lakes, and ground water that provide people (and all life) with most of the water we need to live. Concerningly the annual flow of the Murray River -- the source of 40 per cent of Adelaide's drinking water -- to the sea is about one-fifth of what it was in 1901.

To celebrate this precious resource and National Water Week there has been a SA Water Quiz Trail in the Botanic Gardens (see here) which Jane has been busy working at.

National Water Week is being sponsored by the Smart Water Mark - a voluntary, not-for-profit program that helps people to make an informed choice about saving water around your home, garden and pool. Products and services with the Smart Approved WaterMark label have been assessed by an independent technical expert panel. So look for their symbol (left) and check out their web site for lots of water saving tips

recycle? no precycle!

Its been around for ages. Our grandmothers did it. Some of us have done it for a long time. Even though we didnt know it’s name. Or that it was fashionable. “Precycling” is catching on as the latest fad, a timely manifestation of green marketing. What does this trendy new buzzword actually mean? It’s apparently another way of saying “conserve.” As in, re-using plastic water bottles rather than tossing them and buying another one. Re-using plastic and paper bags. Buying large quantities rather than single-serving packaging.
As Brandweek reports:

Precyclers remove themselves from junk mail lists, read paper-based media online
and even carry around “precycling kits” consisting of cloth napkins and silverware—anything to reduce waste and not contribute to the recycling bin.
“It’s not just about how you dispose of [products and packaging] anymore,” said Melissa Lavigne, director of marketing for The Intelligence Group [the people who came up with the word]. “It’s about being conscious about products you buy in the first place. That’s the idea behind precycling.”

Read the full post here
Then you can leave a comment to let us know some of your grooviest precycling practices?

But on the matter of recycling, I saw these very stylish pots (pictured above) when I was out today - can you guess what they are made from? Truck tyres. Look great dont they.

Saturday Poem

SONG FOR THE SALMON
poem by David Whyte

For too many days now I have not written of the sea,
nor the rivers, nor the shifting currents
we find between the islands.

For too many nights now I have not imagined the salmon
threading the dark streams of reflected stars,
nor have I dreamt of his longing,
nor the lithe swing of his tail toward dawn.

I have not given myself to the depth to which he goes,
to the cargoes of crystal water, cold with salt,
nor the enormous plains of ocean swaying beneath the moon.

I have not felt the lifted arms of the ocean
opening its white hand on the seashore,
nor the salted wind, whole and healthy,
filling the chest with living air.
I have not heard those waves,
fallen out of heaven onto earth,
nor the tumult of sound and the satisfaction
of a thousand miles of ocean,
giving up its strength on the sand.

***
But now I have spoken of that great sea,
the ocean of longing shifts through me,
the blessed inner star of navigation
moves in the dark sky above
and I am ready like the young salmon,
to leave his river, blessed with hunger,
for a great journey on the drawing tide.

DAVID WHYTE uses poetry in corporate settings to help others deal with change, and to encourage creativity in individual employees, and in organizations. Before this he worked as a naturalist guide in the Galapagos Islands, led natural history and anthropological expeditions in Chile, Bolivia, and Peru and travelled in India and Nepal. His poems speak to my heart. I enjoy his ability to pay exquisite attention to the natural world and then to make a bridge to the human soul, to an inner world of meaning, mystery, and wonder. I chose this poem this week because I am about to embark on a journey to the ocean - not via a river, though perhaps a road can be a little like a river. Inwardly though, I love the image of the salmon ready for bigger things. Today is also the eve of National Water week so it seems appropriate to have a watery poem.

It's Friday - recipe day!

Cooking for friends is something I enjoy so much. Eating with friends is even better! Tomorrow night I am cooking for my best friend Anu and our handsome companions and though I am not cooking the following recipe I should be, because it's classic, simple and delicious. Perfect for the gorgeous Spring weather we've been having in Adelaide lately.

Mushroom Risotto

6 cups vegetable stock
500g mixture of mushrooms (the more variety the better)
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 onion, chopped
1 large clove garlic, finely chopped
2 cups Arborio rice
1/2 cup dry white or red wine
2 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1/2 cup grated parmesan
Freshly ground black pepper

Clean mushroom with a soft brush or paper towel and roughly chop. Melt 4 tablespoons of butter in a frying pan and saute mushrooms until tender, about 10 minutes. Set aside.

Place the stock in a saucepan and bring to a simmer. Reduce the heat to low and keep warm.

In a large frying pan or saucepan over medium heat, melt remaining butter and saute onion and garlic until softened, but not coloured. Add the rice and stir for 2 minutes, coating the grains. Stir in the wine until absorbed.

Add a half cup of stock, stirring well. When it is almost absorbed stir in another half cup and continue in this fashion for about 15 minutes until rice is half-cooked. Stir in half of the mushrooms and then continue adding stock, a half cup at a time, until it is all absorbed. Towards the end, check consistency of rice - it should be tender, but still slightly chewy; creamy, but not mushy (you may not need to use all the stock).

Stir in the remaining mushrooms, parsley, and parmesan, and season with pepper to taste. Serve piping hot, garnished with extra parmesan and parsley.

Yummmmm!

...now, where's the rest of that wine?

Life… and loss… can take us by surprise

Last week I looked after my friend Tania’s two guinea pigs, Cutie and Pinky (named by six year old Lily). Although Pinky was a little round in the middle the pet shop had assured the family that they were both girls so they figured she just loved to eat. Well, as you might be thinking, we awoke Friday morning to discover a rather thinner Pinky and an extra three little guinea pigs in the hutch! Tania got a very surprising phone call that day. The babies were so cute. How lovely it was to watch them snuggling together with their parents. But then we realised that one of the little ones was not looking too healthy. It was smaller than the others, with back legs that didn’t seem to be working well, and Pinky didn’t appear to be feeding it. In fact over the next few hours she came to actively reject it, putting it out of the ‘nest’ and stepping on its little body. When they came to pick up their pets, Lily named the little one ‘Love’ and cradled it in her hands on the way home. They did their best, but it died the next day, about 48 hours old.

Unexpected life followed by unexpected loss. The philosopher Seneca said, “Whatever can happen at any time can happen today”. The fact that we don’t know what is around the corner in life can be a source of both excitement and fear. We have a choice about how we view the unpredictability of life. Our fear can dictate how we live… if we allow it. The fear of the sorrow that often follows loss can be immobilising. It can stop us from fully participating in life, causing us to us to miss out on the many joys that may come when we are willing to take risks.

Lily had a sad afternoon on Sunday and her mother comforted her by explaining that because she is such a caring person she will experience sadness in life, but also lots of happiness. When we open our heart to one, we open it to the other. When Lily cried for ‘Love’ on Sunday she was crying for the same entity that had made her smile and enabled her to experience feelings of caring, protectiveness and hope on Saturday. The wonderful Kahlil Gibran wrote in The Prophet, “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain… When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight”.