7/28/25

Pastor’s Ponderings

At Camp Caroline in two weeks I will invite our retreat participants to walk down beside the waterfront and view the newly installed natural areas called “the living shoreline”.  The parts of the shoreline that are “living” are attempts to free the camp from the endless financial strain of repairing washed out bulkheads in those areas. 

In short, a living shoreline represents our desire to learn to live with the tides instead of trying to force our will upon the water by telling it where it can and where it cannot go. The living shoreline allows for the reestablishment of marsh, which moves and breathes with the water that washes across it. When the tide surges in across a living shoreline, plant roots absorb nutrients, snails creep up grass stems to escape the water, and fish, shrimp and crabs swim into the marsh to feed and lay eggs. When the tide surges out, the long sturdy roots of the marsh grasses hold the marsh in place, and shorebirds swoop in to feed on the exposed mud worms, the crabs scurrying back out, and the snails sliding back down. In and out, in and out, over and over again these lungs of the earth breathe life into the ecosystem, protect the land from erosion from hurricane and tidal surges, and provide food for the creatures of God.

            Wild areas must be treated with respect. Junior campers must be taught to look out for the snakes that come into the marsh to feed. Adults with our love of neatly trimmed green grass must be challenged to see the marsh as beautiful in its own way, scraggly and messy though it is.  All of us must learn to be still and listen to the breath – the breath that moves in and out of the tidal zone, the breath that moves in and out of our lungs, the breath that is the wind of the Spirit of the Living God breathing life into the world. 

            While we are at camp I will encourage everyone to practice the very ancient Christian prayer known as the Prayer of the Breath.  It is simple:  As you breath in, recite in your mind the words “Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior” and as you breath out say internally “have mercy on me, a sinner.”  Repeat this prayer several times until you feel the very blood coursing in your body, fed by the Living Breath of God.

            Perhaps you will pray along with us as well.

Grace and Peace,

Beth

7/21/25

Pastor’s Ponderings

Rest your heart in God,

let yourself float on the safe waters,

loving life as it comes,

with all the rough weather it may bring.

Give, without counting how many years are left, not worried about surviving as long as possible.

(page torn from a “Weavings” magazine years ago)

A few months ago Marty and I were discussing planting a white oak tree.  This tree was a gift from a dear friend and clergy colleague, one who is focused on planting as many oak trees as possible as oak trees are considered a keystone species for our ecosystem.  Oak trees support over 2,300 species of life, far more than any other tree in our landscape, yet they are disappearing at dizzying rates because they are being cut down faster than they can be replaced:  land is being cleared, habitat destroyed, and it takes at least 30 years for most species of oak trees to reach maturity and begin producing those thousands of acorns that anchor our ecosystem.  I looked at the little tree in my hands.  “If we have good growing years every single year for the next 20 years, I may live to see this tree get 40 feet tall but it still won’t bear acorns until I’m 92 years old – and based on my genetic history I probably won’t live that long.” I looked at Marty.  “I’m running out of time.”

And then I remembered this quote in my prayer journal, a quote by someone whose name has been lost in the sands of time but whose words I tore out and kept from an edition of the Christian spirituality magazine “Weavings”.  Ironically enough this edition was shared with me by another dear friend and colleague in ministry, one whose death earlier this year shook me to my roots and alerted me to the sounds of my own approaching time to sing with the saints by the river that flows from the throne of God.  “Love life as it comes” the author wrote.  “Give without counting how many years are left, not worried about surviving as long as possible.” Be mindful of the joys of every single day. Give generously in appreciation of all that has been given, not counting the cost or hoarding in fear. Plant not to see results but to express gratitude for the earth and to the Earth’s creator. 

“Rest your heart in God” the writer instructs.  Only in God are we set free from the fear of endings and ready to embrace beginnings.  Only in God are we able to live joyfully and expectantly in the last third of life, the years that can bring so much physical change and devastating loss.  I held on to Marty a little tighter.  “Actually” I said, “God has got this.  I don’t have to live to see the acorns, all I have to do is faithfully plant the tree.”  So we did.  Not just one, but three. They are already lifting up their ridiculously big leaves on their short and skinny trunks, and extending the first shoots underground of the massive root systems that will hold the earth steady and feed the trees that will feed thousands of lifeforms long, we pray, after we’re gone.

Today on my 62^nd birthday I am grateful for the years of life I have lived, years full of love and blessings beyond measure poured out by an extravagant God who loves with an unconditional love. I look ahead and reorient myself with the reminder to “give, not worried about how many years are left, not worried about surviving as long as possible.”

And I give thanks.

Grace and peace,

Beth

7/14/25

Pastor’s Ponderings

At Camp Caroline next month several members of our church family will gather beneath the trees beside the river to think about the Tree of Life drawing strength from the River of the Water of Life.  

Our Bible opens and closes with a tree beside a river.  A great and marvelous tree called “the tree of life” that is sustained by a river that brings life to all the earth.  In Genesis the river flowing out of Eden nourishes the whole earth, and beside the river grows the tree of life.  In Revelation the river flowing from the throne of the Lamb contains the water of life to nourish all of God’s glorious New Jerusalem and beside it on either side grows the tree of life.

            In between this beginning and end, there is the story of another river and tree.  Because we chose sin over obedience, because we chose strife over reconciliation, a tree was lifted up upon which a man offered his life in complete humility and love, and as he died, from his side poured a stream of living water. Only because of him do we have the promise of the time when sin will be destroyed and Eden restored.

As the water flowing from Eden nourishes the earth, so are we nourished by the river of the water of life. As the tree of life is rooted in the ground, so are our souls rooted in God.  As the tree of life rises from its root and branches into many branches, so are humans connected to each other and all other life forms in creation.  As the trees in Revelation bear leaves for the healing of the nations, so shall humans, animals, and all of creation be allowed to return to the paradise of Eden in the great healing of earth and all its inhabitants.

            But until then there is so much work to do. Christ calls us to be a part of God’s ongoing work of reconciliation, restoring unity among the people of earth and healing among all of creation. The vision of Revelation wasn’t given to us as an excuse to sit around and do nothing while we wait for it (remember the steward who hid his talents in the ground?) Let us all seek to answer that call:  to join hands, and commit ourselves to caring for each other, for the rivers, for the trees and for all of creation so that earth may be as much like Eden now as it can be while sin still reigns, in these days before the rise of the new Jerusalem and our great Gathering by the River of Living Water. 

Grace and Peace,

Beth

7/7/25

Pastor’s Ponderings

            I saw it on Marty’s trail cam pictures, snuffling its way across the grass, looking for all the world like it had not a care in sight.

            The last time I saw it I would have sworn it was dead.

            The dogs had chased it up from the tall grass by the pond, and despite my screaming and calling they were busy sniffing around it’s obviously lifeless little carcass.  I ran over and got a good look.  It lay contorted and limp as water, its mouth hanging open, its pointy teeth sticking out along with its little tongue.

         Only when I went back without the dogs a little later to retrieve the carcass and throw it out of their reach, it wasn’t there.  No sign at all.  Apparently the opossum had been, in fact, playing possum.

            The opossum is a lumbering little thing, mostly defenseless except for a threatening hiss and hideous scowl. Most of us see them only as road kill when they have ventured out too far with their nearsighted eyes to hunt the night creatures on which they feed:  frogs, mice, cockroaches, carrion. And thank the Lord for them!  I pulled the dogs back, fussing at them for  messing with the creature that eats disease-carrying ticks, plant-munching snails in my flowerbed and - thank you Lord - any venomous snake that happens along, due to their natural immunity to poisonous snake venom. “Don’t hurt the possums!”  I lectured the dogs (as if they understood, which yes, they do, more than they let on) “they eat SNAKES! They just looked at me and resumed sniffing.

         What would we do without possums?  Without these creatures that clean the earth of dead and decaying bodies?  These horribly nearsighted, ghastly toothed creatures that control populations of other creatures which carry diseases deadly to humans? Shout to the Lord in praise of the lowly possum!    

            Marty called to me “Come see your possum!” There it was, its picture captured by the camera as it meandered along beside the pond in the exact same spot where I could have sworn it died. I flashed Marty my best imitation of a possum eating grin.

Grace and peace,

Beth

6/30/25

Pastor’s Ponderings

On towards supper time every afternoon my dog Lily gets anxious, whiney, and refuses to leave my side.  It’s the hour of the thunder monster you know, that horrible monster who brings the rain and makes huge noises in the sky, the one who would like nothing better to do than eat dogs named Lily. Nothing will calm her down except going inside the house and letting her hide underneath my desk until the danger of a late afternoon storm has passed.

I wish it were as easy to calm the fears of my children - my all grown up children who read the news every morning on their phones and carry a constant nervous edge of worry about the state of our nation and the angry undercurrents reverberating from the US capital all the way down into state and local government. No matter which side of the aisle your candidates sit on, there’s one thing on which we can all agree: the American political system is in a de facto civil war right now, with precious little of the bipartisan “I’ll support you on this if you’ll support me on that” conversation that gets things done. 

Yet sure as a late afternoon thunderstorm in the heat of summer, July 4 comes around again to remind us we have faced hard times in America before, and somehow have always managed to keep alive both our conviction of individual liberty and our obligation to civic responsibility. One way we do this is by people down in the grassroots of the nation, people like you and like me, refusing to let our families, our churches and our communities be divided into “us” and “them”. We know we have to live, work and worship together so we keep being polite:  keep listening to each other, keep finding points on which we can agree, keep claiming each other as neighbors and friends despite our differences.

When the news blows up and anxiety rolls in, Marty and I tell our kids to get out and do something positive for somebody else.  Volunteer. Donate. Pick up road side trash. Hold the door open for someone and smile. Take a break from your phone and focus on the things you can do to make a difference in your little corner of the world.

It’s an even better strategy than crawling under the desk and waiting out the storm.

Grace and peace,

Beth

6/23/25

Pastor’s Ponderings

What you call things will tell folks who you are. 

Take chicken pastry for example.  Around here that means chicken cooked in broth along with thin sheets of rolled out dough.  The same dish served in Marty’s family up close to Chesapeake, Virginia is called chicken pie.  Head across the piedmont and stop to eat just before you get to the high mountains and they will serve you something called chicken slick.  Same dish.  Head on up into the high Appalachians and sit down at a table with people from Scots Irish descent and have some chicken and dumplings – same dish, except the dough is dropped into the broth in fat fingers instead of rolled into thin slices and sometimes it contains corn meal instead of flour.

Hold out a bowl of this stuff and tell a linguist what you call it, and they can tell you exactly who you are:  where you are from, who your people are.

Same thing for this green weed in my yard that sprouts in late winter and grows long thin tendrils that catch on your clothes so you carry the little green seed balls attached wherever you go.  Down in the Deep South it’s called Velcro plant. In California it’s called catchweed.  In the United Kingdom it’s called cleavers, and people who forage for food call it goosegrass and say it tastes like lemon. Over at NC State in the scientific catalog it’s listed as Galium Aparine; around here I’ve heard it called sticky weed and sticky willy.  “There sure was a ton of that sticky grass that covers everything up in those hydrangeas” I say to Marty after pulling it out by the armloads one Saturday afternoon.  “What kind of grass?”  he asks.  “You know, the Lily Weed” I answered.  I call it that because our dog Lily comes in from our field covered in it. 

Have you ever noticed the names people give each other?  Things like “liberal” and “conservative”, “high class” and “good ole boy.”  If you aren’t careful to discipline your tongue you may find yourself slipping and calling people things like “idiot” “stuck up” and “trashy.” And if your mama didn’t raise you right you may find words slipping out of your mouth that are demeaning and vulgar, words that curse others, words like “retard” “wetback” and far, far worse. “From the same mouth come blessing and cursing.  My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so. Does a spring pour forth from the same opening both fresh and brackish water?” Be careful what you call things, especially people. What you call people will tell folks exactly who you are.

Grace and peace,

Beth

6/16/25

Pastor’s Ponderings

I recently learned a new term:  keystone species.  A keystone, by definition, is a central stone at the summit of an arch, locking the whole arch together.  Used in conversation, a keystone is something on which associated things depend for support.  In reference to species, a keystone species is one which is essential to maintaining a given ecosystem.

An example is the sea otter.

The 19^th century fur trade decimated populations of sea otters from California to Alaska as well as into Russia and Japan.  At one point, history shows there were only about 2,000 sea otters left, mainly in Alaska, in that entire ecosystem. 

            At the same time Elkhorn Slough, one of California’s largest marine estuary systems, slowly began to deteriorate.  The marsh banks began breaking down, dumping tons of pesticide and fertilizer runoff into the wetlands, which subsequently caused algae blooms and the dying off of fish and marine life.  As the estuary became muddier and muddier, it became less and less able to sustain life – including human life.

In the late 20^th century hunting bans and habitat restoration began to take place, and sea otters began to reclaim some of their former range.  The first to return to Elkhorn Slough were spotted in 1984, with Monterey Bay Aquarium’s program for releasing orphaned sea otters also boosting the estuary’s otter population.

With the return of the otters, life began to slowly rebuild in the marsh. Science did not entirely understand why life departed nor why it was now returning, and marine biologists performed study after study to figure out what was going on. The conclusions drawn are recorded in the beautiful PBS series “Wild Hope”, which reveals why one of the keystone species of Elkhorn Slough is the crab-eating, urchin-eating sea otter.

            Otters do not have an excess layer of fat as do many marine mammals, so they must eat constantly to generate body heat and energy.  One of their favorite things to eat are striped shore crabs. Studies in the Elkhorn Slough reveal otters eating up to 328 crabs per day.

            When crabs aren’t eaten, they burrow extensively into the marsh banks and eat the roots of marsh grasses that curb erosion.  Without sea otters to keep their numbers down, crabs had essentially destabilized banks so much that storms and tides caused them to collapse and turn the pristine water of the estuary into yucky, silty sludge.

            And not just crabs.  Less so but also important are the kelp-eating sea urchins. Kelp stabilizes the bottom of the estuary, providing cover for baby marine life to escape predators and holding mud in place.  Sea urchins eat kelp.  Otters eat sea urchins.

            The return of the otters to Elkhorn Slough meant kelp beds returned, and marsh banks strengthened.  The water cleared and runoff was contained.  Marine life began returning to spawn and the waters again teemed with fish, birds and wildlife of all forms.

            In the 19^th century instead of seeing otters as the keystone to an entire ecosystem within which we ourselves are a part, humans saw otters as an opportunity to make money.  In our shortsightedness we believed money was the keystone of our lives and we began to destroy the very source of our food, without which of course money is perfectly useless. You can’t use money to buy fresh seafood if there is none to be had.

            In Isaiah we are warned that overbuilding and over cultivating destroys the productivity of the earth. We overbuild and over cultivate, Isaiah warns, because of greed – each of us out for ourselves without concern for creation itself.  But humans are entrusted by God to be caretakers of creation.  Taking care of something means not allowing it to be destroyed.  Thus, caretaking creation is not just saying “oh what a beautiful God-given sunset” and continuing to turn farmland into parking lots and estuaries into mudholes.  Caretaking means defending creation as if our very lives depend upon it – because they do.

Grace and peace,

Beth

6/9/25

Pastor’s Ponderings

Every Monday morning for the past four years at 9:00 sharp (actually a few minutes before 9, she’s always early) the church key has turned in the lock and Ester Garner has arrived to see what help she might can offer me that week.  She has folded bulletins, typed minutes, mailed out enotes to church members who do not have email accounts, decorated bulletin boards, searched for lost and found items, hand painted drawings for bulletin covers when I wanted something special and couldn’t find it, made photocopies, addressed church mailings, compiled the annual church handbooks, ran to the Post Office, ran other errands, helped me plan church activities, served as a sounding board when I needed one…and these are just a few examples. Beyond this there are all the things she does as membership committee chair – organize the church kitchen, take care of the little food pantry outside, lead meetings… you get the idea.

In the 4th century, St. Anthony of the Desert said “In whatever place you live, do not easily leave it.” Someone asked Abba Anthony, “What must one do in order to please God?” The old man replied, “Pay attention to what I tell you: whoever you may be, always have God before your eyes, whatever you do, do it according to the testimony of the holy Scriptures; in whatever place you live, do not easily leave it. Keep these three precepts and you will be saved.” (The Sayings of the Desert Fathers)

            The first two are clear to us.  The third one probably comes as a surprise, considering how globally we travel and how busy and distracted our lives can become.

            But when we look closely at the lives of people who become pillars of a Christian community – monasteries in the case of those who followed St. Anthony, local congregations in the case of you and I - we see that “pillars” take upon themselves tasks that they can be depended upon to perform over and over again, without being asked or reminded. Because they are always physically present to take care of their designated responsibilities, they also start to notice other little things that need doing – and they begin to take those on too.  Before long they build up a knowledge base others depend on (where do we keep the extension cords around here?) and become the image by which the church is recognized in the world (You mean Mr. Doe?  The one from that church that does Breakfast with Santa?) 

            But these things don’t happen without stability.  Without constant presence, awareness, and willingness. Without standing with your church through fun, easy times, and refusing to leave for “greener pastures” in hurtful, challenging times. 

 Ester’s dedicated Monday morning work in part has helped pave the way for a part-time Church Administrator.  Her key may or may not turn in the lock at 8:55 this Monday morning – but I’m not worried.  She will be around -  because she totally gets it:  “in whatever place you live, do not easily leave it.”  

Thank you, Ester, from all of us.

Grace and peace,

Beth

6/2/25

Pastor’s Ponderings

And so Pentecost comes around again - the time we remember Peter’s newfound courage in the Spirit, taking to the streets to tell anyone who would listen “Jesus is Lord!” Gone was his fear of begin found out by Roman soldiers, gone was his doubt that the time with Jesus had all been for naught- in the grip of the Spirit he rose to become that which he had always been called to be: a disciple, a preacher, a church builder.

It would not be all sunshine and roses for Peter, or anybody else for that matter.  There would be hard, hard questions to grapple with in the newly forming church, and doubtless many heartaches to go along with them.  I think of the opposition Peter faced when he came back to Jerusalem after having baptized Cornelius, the first Gentile convert:  the astonished looks, the “you baptized who?”  I think of the showdown in Antioch when Paul confronted him in front of the whole assembly for Peter’s inconsistency in regards to eating with Gentile converts (eating with them at first, then withdrawing to a separate table when the hard core circumcision party arrived from Jerusalem). I happen to have a lot of compassion for Peter in this - he felt the calling of the Spirit and courageously pushed forward to offer baptism to the Gentiles, yet unlike Paul, he did not face those who disagreed with him with righteous indignation but instead sought to meet them half way.  It is possible he was just wishy washy, as Paul denounces him for being - but my gut tells me he was trying to hold both positions for the sake of unity in the newly forming church community.

Unity is such an elusive creature.  It can only be achieved when all parties involved believe it is more important to be one in the Spirit than to be separated into factions - what else could possibly hold together such polar opposites as Jews and Gentiles?  Yet Ephesians insists:  “…he is our peace.  In his flesh he has made both groups one and broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us.”

“If I only love those who love me, what good is that?”  Jesus once asked. “Even the Gentiles are capable of that kind of love! And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? No, you are to be perfect, even as your Heavenly Father is perfect.”  In other words, we are to live by a higher standard.

If we only associate with those who look like us, what good is that?  If we only worship with people who believe like we do, what more are we doing than what everybody is doing?  No, we are called to go the extra mile:  to pray for those we dislike and disagree with, to seek common ground with those we are so different from, to try to understand those who believe and feel differently from ourselves be it due to issues of faith, politics, social awareness or cultural expectation.

It seems like an impossible task.  But we will gather to worship this Sunday only because the early church rose to that challenge and completed that task, overcoming their differences and moving out into the world united in the Gospel.  In our generation, in our time - may we do the same.

Grace and peace,

Beth

5/26/25

Pastor’s Ponderings

Today on Memorial Day we pause to offer a prayer for this nation – our home – the United States of America. We remember those who serve us through our armed forces and we remember those who have died in that service.  We pray for the families who have lost loved ones; we pray for those who have worked and fought side-by-side and lost a comrade so dear.  We pray for all those who remain alive but are forever wounded, physically and mentally, by the sights and sounds of war.  May we never take a single human life for granted.  May we never rush towards war, but always cherish each person who cherishes and defends our country.

Grace and peace,

Beth

5/13/25

Pastor’s Ponderings

How anyone could dislike a Canadian goose is beyond me.  Yes, I have been honked at, hissed at, and chased when I have strayed to close to a nest in hatching season, and yes, I have had to step around large piles of poo left behind. But these are minor inconveniences compared with the miracle of these creatures.

  Canadian geese navigate long migrations by forming an upside down  “V” pattern in the sky,  reducing the air flow each goose has to exert itself against as they fly.  Everyone in the pattern at some point takes a turn in the lead position, the position requiring the most exertion, then falls back into a less strenuous position when they grow tired. By working together, they travel further distances with less fatigue.

Geese also mate for life.

They exhibit behaviors of intense attachment, and at the death of a mate or a gosling exhibit behaviors of grief:  hanging their heads, losing interest in food, and exhibiting apathy and confusion.

Male and female pairs share responsibilities in raising their young, protecting them from predators and teaching them to fly. Moms sit on the eggs and the rest of us better not get to close because dads are standing guard. 

And the reason I am thinking about Canadian geese today, this Monday following Mother’s Day weekend:  geese lose their flight feathers at the same time their young hatch.  This means for the 6 weeks it takes to grow back their feathers, geese are completely flightless - exactly like their young, who take 6 weeks to learn to fly. Born to be free to fly, geese parents must surrender their freedom and join their defenseless young on the ground -  a constant presence of nurture and protection.  In short,  their freedom is briefly limited in order to insure their children become free.

I think about mothers and fathers who intentionally slow down their careers in order to be close to home and focused on their families.  I think about parents who volunteer in schools and coach Little League.  I think about band parents and soccer parents and scout parents and Sunday School parents. I think about mothers who prioritize family time over “me” time and fathers who have buddies complaining “we never see you anymore!”And I remember the geese.

Limiting our freedom is not something that comes easily to us:  we so much love to fly. But from my current vantage point I am very aware that flight feathers grow back in the blink of an eye.  Children are young for such a short while, and soon we all fly again together.

Grace and peace in the season of our Lord’s Resurrection,

Beth

5/5/25

Pastor’s Ponderings

Last week I saw a billboard advertising a church with the slogan “Small enough to know you; large enough to serve you.” It’s a great slogan for a bank, but please forgive me, a horrible slogan for a church.

People already go church shopping like they go grocery shopping:  searching for the location that offers the widest selection for the cheapest prices.  Translated into church life, that means looking to join a church that can offer the widest variety of programs we are interested in for the least amount of commitment on our part. And that is the polar opposite of discipleship.

Discipleship is learning to walk closer and closer to the way of the cross.  It is learning to pour ourselves out in love as Jesus poured himself out, giving of our time, our talent, our commitment because we love God, not because we expect a certain percentage gain on our investment. 

And the miracle of it all:  the heart poured out in love for the sake of Christ actually does receive measure upon measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over.  But not because we joined a church large enough to serve us.  Instead, we simply learned to open our heart. 

Grace and peace in the season of our Lord’s Resurrection,

Beth