St. Paul’s United Church                                         Earth Sunday, April 18, 2010

                       

Sacred Spaces, Sacred Places – Rev. David Mundy

 

Psalm 84                                Isaiah 35:1-7                             Mark 1:32-39

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I have been able to visit Israel on several occasions and every trip has been worthwhile, but the first trip was unique for a number of reasons.

 

Not only did I experience the freshness of discovery during the trip, that first group was small, which allowed us to travel in a smaller vehicle and snoop around in places inaccessible in larger tour coaches. Our guide was an odd guy, a big rangy man who didn’t speak English that well, although his knowledge of profanity was quite impressive. He didn’t seem to realize that sprinkling conversation with swear words might not go over well with church folk. It turned out that he loved the natural world and was a keen environmentalist.

 

One of our overnights was in the guest house at a kibbutz, a collective farm on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. It was a beautiful location with the waters of the lake stretching out before us and the hills behind us.  After supper that evening our guide asked if any of us would like to go for a ramble up one of those hillsides and while most of the group declined, I am always ready for a walk. A couple from my congregation decided to join us, so the four of us headed out together.

 

It was April, and as in Canada it was Spring. It might surprise you to hear that the hills of Galilee were covered with wildflowers. We tend to think of stark, arid deserts in Israel, not greenery and colourful flora.

 

As we climbed, we could see a herd of goats up ahead, and as we got closer our guide saw that they were grazing in the midst of a meadow of wild irises. He was horrified because these flowers are a protected plant in Israel, so after pointing to a two thousand-year-old Roman fortress further up the hill he ran off to scold the goatherd.

 

We kept going and eventually arrived at the ruins of the fortress which we explored before sitting and contemplating the lake below. It was a lovely, tranquil moment which didn’t have a hint of tourism in it. Although we visited lots of “X marks the spot” religious sites and churches during our ten days there was no holier moment than on that hillside. I suppose I could say that it was a sacred moment.

 

I should add that our eccentric guide eventually rejoined us and informed us that the fortress was in danger of collapse and off limits! It would have been helpful to know this before we had clambered around in it.

 

Today is Earth Sunday, a celebration of God as Creator and thanksgiving for creation which we observe on the Sunday before Earth Day, April 22nd. Often on Earth Sunday we talk about the pressing and sometimes ominous environmental issues facing our planet. We ask ourselves what we are doing and what we yet need to do to make a difference in safeguarding our earthly home. It can be rather earnest and a little overwhelming at times, but it is the United Church way!

 

We can easily overlook the importance of simply savouring and giving thanks for the beauty of what we experience around us and realizing that the sacred is not just found in places of worship such as this one, but spills out of the doors and into the world around us.

 

One of our “earthy” passages for this morning is a brief story from the beginning of the gospel of Mark. We’re told that from the beginning of his ministry, while still in Galilee, Jesus had to contend with crowds of people who were eager to hear him and find out whether the rumours that he was an extraordinary healer were true. Early one morning, before sunrise, Jesus went to a place where he assumed no one would find him for a time in order to pray and connect with God.

 

We might wonder whether Jesus went to a favourite spot from boyhood –after all he grew up in Galilee and he probably did his own share of scrambling and exploring in the hills with childhood friends. We realize that a climb in the early hours would have raised Jesus’ heart rate and his breathing. We can imagine him praying with eyes wide open, facing the east and the rising sun. The warmth of that sun would have been welcome. We know that Jesus taught in synagogues, the local places for religious education and worship, and he spent time in the magnificent temple in Jerusalem. Yet it’s good to remember that he was also aware of the sacred in the natural world.  In a way Jesus was in a long line of God’s servants including Moses and Elijah who experience God’s holiness in the natural world.

 

Of course this time of tranquillity didn’t last for Jesus. The disciples “hunted for him” –what a graphic phrase -- and he returned to his ministry once again. We might assume, though, that while this is the only time Mark recounts Jesus going away in this fashion there must have been other occasions when he took these restorative, prayerful moments in nature.

 

Today, on Earth Sunday, we can consider those spaces and those places which are sacred to us which may not be within four walls. As humans we feel the need to create specific places of worship where we can gather for worship and praise and learning. It’s not just Christians who do this. Virtually every religion erects buildings to the glory of God, as they know God, and many of them are magnificent, creating a sense of wonder and awe. Yet we often feel God’s presence in nature, and name it as sacred and holy. We cannot only hear God when we are outdoors, we enter into conversation with God.

 

Perhaps we should consider a definition of the word sacred:

1.   consecrated to or belonging to God or the divine

2.   regarded with the respect or reverence accorded holy things; venerated; hallowed

3.   set apart for, and dedicated to

4.   secured as by a religious feeling

 

You will notice that there is nothing in this definition which suggests that this sacred encounter will occur indoors in a building such as this one, or outdoors. Actually the word templum, which gives us our word temple, originally referred to the outdoor area set out by priests of ancient times to observe birds in their flights. If that sounds rather pagan to you, remember that in what we call The Sermon on the Mount in Matthew Jesus encourages to overcome anxiety and worry by observing the birds of the air and the flowers of the fields.

 

This is such an important message in this time when we are travelling deeper and deeper into a virtual world where experiencing God in nature is becoming less and less common. And we tend to scurry frantically from event to event, whether it is work, or activities for our children, without allowing much opportunity to savour the One who has brought all things into being. The ability to pay attention to the beauty around us and to recognize that this is a gift from God is essential to our lives as Christians.

           

Even though we are living in a much more secular society, we might also notice that there is a craving for reverence and the sacred. There is a motion picture which you may have heard about, a popular little film called Avatar. Well, of course Avatar is the blockbuster of all time, although once you get past the special effects and the 3-D glasses that made me queasy, it is a fairly simple and even simplistic storyline. Evil humans go to the planet Pandora, a sort of Garden of Eden, and take on the natives who honour nature in a way the humans have forgotten. It’s basically Dances With Wolves in space. You could also say that it is a very religious film, with a Tree of Souls and scenes of the Na’vi people gathered to worship their goddess, who keeps the ecosystem in balance. Tens of millions of people have now witnessed this gospel according to James Cameron.

 

Our Good News is that we don’t have to go to a distant planet to experience the sacredness of God’s creation, or even to the movie theatre for an imaginary depiction of reverence for the diversity of life.

 

We don’t have to go to an exotic location on this planet either. Our sacred space may be in our own gardens, or by the water at a cottage, or even as someone suggested to me this past week, in a graveyard. Why not?  What did we hear on Easter morning? On the first day of the week Mary Magdalene became aware of the risen Christ in the garden of the cemetery where he had been buried.

 

Now, this may all sound like permission to give up on going to church! A round of golf or a paddle around the bay is all we need. Or course this is not an “either/or” but a “both.” There are lots of people who love being out-of-doors who don’t give a moment’s thought to God the creator or spend much time expressing gratitude.  When we gather for worship as we have today we orient our lives to the God revealed in Jesus Christ. Our Sunday morning experiences allow us to go out into our week with eyes and ears, hearts and minds, open to the possibility of that sacred encounter with God.

 

Perhaps what we can all do on this Earth Sunday is ask how we will attune ourselves to the sacred in the every day as Spring unfolds and opens into Summer. We can at least figuratively join Jesus on the hillside and prayerfully open ourselves to the glory of God.

 

I will leave you with a painting and a poem as two forms of prayer and praise to God who is revealed in the world around us. The painting is by a great Canadian, the late Emily Carr whose depictions of the forests and totems of the British Columbia coast are breathtaking. In the Art Gallery of Ontario there is a Carr painting called Indian Church which places a small Christian church in the midst of a cathedral of trees which also give glory to God.

 

The poem is by Mary Oliver, the Pulitzer Prize winner, who has reflected on her moments in nature for decades and has always been a deeply spiritual writer.   In recent years Oliver has returned to her Christian roots and now writes poems which reflect her rediscovered faith. In the poem entitled Praying she encourages us:

 

It doesn’t have to be

the blue iris, it could be

weeds in a vacant lot, or a few

small stones; just

pay attention, then patch

 

a few words together, and don’t try

to make them elaborate, this isn’t

a contest but the doorway

 

into thanks, and a silence in which

another voice may speak.

 

We can all find our sacred places and sacred spaces where God speaks to us, and we can answer.