Resource: Stations of Creation

With this post, I am going to try something new on my blog. Over the last several years I have written several nature-based spiritual formation exercises, and I would like to share one from time to time. Eventually I will collect these resources under a new Resources tab above, alongside my Why this blog? and About the Author tabs. 

This particular exercise is called Stations of Creation. Modeled after the style of the fourteen Stations of the Cross, whereby a person prayerfully meditates upon the Good Friday actions of Jesus on the way to Golgotha (see Matthew 27, Mark 15, Luke 23 or John 19), Stations of Creation are a sequence of prayer reflections based upon objects observed in God’s natural world. Intended to enlarge both our gratitude and our stewardship, it has been my privilege to lead the exercise with groups large and small over the years.

I have found it most meaningful if it can be experienced outdoors in view of the objects stated, where possible. It may be celebrated individually or in a small group, but if the latter, a leader can be appointed to casually direct the journey, having done simple prior planning to map out a suitable route. In a group, it takes about forty-five minutes to an hour to complete depending on the route’s size. The exercise should be printed for participants to follow along and to have for personal use at a later time; if you have difficulty printing from this blog’s format, shoot me a message with your email address and I can send you a nicely formatted, printable PDF version, complete with instructions.

Each station makes use of:

               ~~ A natural object, to be viewed when possible

               ~~ A Bible passage, to be read aloud by a participant (if in a group) after stating the station’s 

                              title

               ~~ A word picture (if in a group), shared by a participant, that may bring others a spiritual 

                              application

               ~~ A prayer, brief and spontaneous

               ~~ A response, sung if possible; I usually use the last line from the hymn For the Beauty of 
                         the Earth, printed here. The Doxology or Kyrie Eleison may be used instead, or even 
                         a contemporary song such as Indescribable or God of Wonders. I have often found it 
                         works well to sing the response on the way to the next station. Upon completion of 
                         the exercise, the entire song may be sung.

So with thanks to my friend Helen who inspired me with the idea, here it is, the Stations of Creation. It will be longer than my typical post!

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Stations of Creation

Earth

Scripture: (Instruction if in a group: A reader states the station title and reads the text aloud.) The earth is the Lord’s and everything in it, the world and all who live in it. For God founded it upon the seas and established it upon the waters.   ~~Psalm 24:1

A Word Picture:  (Instruction if in a group: “Think of an image that conveys a spiritual truth about this item. For example on this first station, who remembers seeing that first photograph taken of the earth from the surface of the moon? In spite of the earth’s enormous size, its complexity and its problems, how fragile and vulnerable it looked to us in that photograph. How different things can be from God’s perspective.” Instruction if done individually: the participant may simply meditate on the scripture or call to mind an experience that brings personal application.)

A Prayer (Instruction if in a group: A participant will volunteer a spontaneous prayer.)

A Response: (Instruction: The line may be sung or stated.)

Lord of all, to You we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

Sky (instructions as above)

Scripture: O Lord, our Lord, How majestic is Thy name in all the earth, Who hast displayed Thy splendor above the heavens! When I consider Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which Thou hast ordained, what is man, that Thou dost take thought of him? And the son of man, that Thou dost care for him? Yet Thou hast made him a little lower than God, and dost crown him with glory and majesty! …Your steadfast love is higher than the heavens, and your faithfulness reaches to the clouds. Be exalted, O God, above the skies, and let your glory be over all the earth.   ~~Psalm 8:1, 3-5; 108:4-5

A Word Picture

A Prayer

A Response: Lord of all, to You we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

Light

Scripture: Then God said, "Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night, and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days and years." And it was so. And God made the two great lights, the greater light to govern the day, and the lesser light to govern the night. He made the stars also. And God placed them in the expanse of the heavens to give light on the earth, and to govern the day and the night, and to separate the light from the darkness. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening and there was morning, a fourth day.         ~~Genesis 1:14-19

A Word Picture

A Prayer

A Response: Lord of all, to You we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

Wind

Scripture: A tempest arose on the sea, so great that the boat was being swamped by the waves; but Jesus was asleep. And they woke him up, saying, "Lord, save us! We are perishing!" And he said to them, "Why are you afraid, you of little faith?" Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a dead calm. They were amazed, saying, "What sort of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him?"   ~~Matthew 8:24-27

A Word Picture

A Prayer

A Response: Lord of all, to You we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

Water

Scripture: God wrought wonders before our fathers, in the land of Egypt, in the field of Zoan. He divided the sea, and caused them to pass through; And He made the waters stand up like a heap. Then He led them with the cloud by day, and all the night with a light of fire. He split the rocks in the wilderness, and gave them abundant drink like the ocean depths. He brought forth streams also from the rock, and caused waters to run down like rivers.   ~~Psalm 78:12-16

A Word Picture

A Prayer

A Response: Lord of all, to You we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

Fire

Scripture: But who can endure the day of His coming? And who can stand when He appears? For He is like a refiner's fire and like fullers' soap. And He will sit as a smelter and purifier of silver, and He will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, so that they may present to the Lord offerings in righteousness. Then the offering of Judah and Jerusalem will be pleasing to the Lord, as in the days of old and as in former years.   ~~Malachi 3:2-4

A Word Picture

A Prayer

A Response: Lord of all, to You we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

Rock

Scripture: And some of the Pharisees in the multitude said to Jesus, "Teacher, rebuke Your disciples." And He answered and said, "I tell you, if these become silent, the stones will cry out!"   ~~Luke 19:39-40

A Word Picture

A Prayer

A Response: Lord of all, to You we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

Tree

Scripture: There was a tree in the midst of the earth, and its height was great. The tree grew large and became strong, and its height reached to the sky, And it was visible to the end of the whole earth. Its foliage was beautiful and its fruit abundant, and in it was food for all. The beasts of the field found shade under it, and the birds of the sky dwelt in its branches, and all living creatures fed themselves from it.   ~~Daniel 4:10-12

A Word Picture

A Prayer

A Response: Lord of all, to You we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

Crop and Climate

Scripture: For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall My word be that goes out from My mouth; it shall not return to Me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.   ~~Isaiah 55:10-11

A Word Picture

A Prayer

A Response: Lord of all, to You we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

Food and Drink

Scripture: Jesus said, “Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single cubit to his life's span? ...Do not be anxious then, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added to you.   
A Word Picture

A Prayer

A Response: Lord of all, to You we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

Beast

Scripture: Ask the animals, and they will teach you; the birds of the air, and they will tell you; speak to the plants of the earth, and they will inform you; even the fish of the sea will declare to you. Who among all these does not know that the hand of the LORD has done this? In his hand is the life of every living thing, even the breath of all humankind.   ~~Job 12:7-10

A Word Picture

A Prayer

A Response: Lord of all, to You we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

Woman and Man

Scripture: So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.  God blessed them, and God said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth." …And it was so. God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good. And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day.   ~~Genesis 1:27-28, 30, 31

A Word Picture

A Prayer

A Response: Lord of all, to You we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

Decay

Scripture: For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die… All flesh is grass, and all its loveliness is like the flower of the field. The grass withers and the flower fades when the breath of the LORD blows upon it. Surely the people are grass. The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever.   ~~Ecclesiastes 3:1; Isaiah 40:6-8

A Word Picture

A Prayer

A Response: Lord of all, to You we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

Faith, Hope, Love and a New Creation

Scripture: You have made known to me the path of life; You will fill me with joy in Your presence... Now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.   ~~Psalm 16:11, 1 Corinthians 13:13

A Word Picture

A Prayer (A closing prayer may be prayed to bring the experience to a conclusion.)

A Response: Lord of all, to You we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

~~RGM, August 3, 2013     

POTM...*: The Portent

(*Photo of the Month)

They are surprising little beauties with many names. I have always called them sun haloes, though the phenomenon is also known as an icebow, nimbus, aureole and gloriole. Interestingly, the latter two words are also the specific religious terms for the halo depicted in artwork surrounding the head of a saint, something I never knew before now. (I wish now that I had positioned my dear Gail with the bow around her silhouette, to me appropriate!) This photograph was taken last Sunday while camping in Kenai, Alaska, during our delightful visit with daughter Kate and son-in-law Phil’s family. I snapped it above a small grove of Sitka spruce, shortly after noon on a day that clocked nearly eighteen hours between sunrise and sunset.

Not exceedingly rare, optical haloes are still unique enough, often holding their place in the sky around the sun or moon with little notice. They are sometimes referred to more specifically as twenty-two degree haloes, the circle’s distance from the sun or moon, to differentiate them from other sky phenomena containing spectral color. Of course the most common is the rainbow. Who can keep their eyes off of one of those when it displays its morning or evening glory? Another fairly common one is the sundog, or parhelion, something people in northern latitudes can see with regularity – little snatches of rainbow color on one or both horizontal sides of the sun, also twenty-two degrees away. One of my other favorites, though devoid of color, is the sun pillar. All are caused by various kinds of reflection or refraction through water droplets or ice crystals in the upper atmosphere or lower sky.

The ancients and those in the Middle Ages considered sundogs and haloes as predictors of portentous events. One Swedish king almost had his two rivals slain over the appearance of sundogs, also called mock suns, insisting it was a divine revelation to him of their conspiracy to usurp his role as the supreme sun/ruler. Ah, ego…

What a sundog or halo can portend is rain, though not necessarily. The old weather phrase said, “Ring around the moon, rain coming soon.” And since these phenomena appear as the result of ice crystals in high altitude cirrus clouds, which can be the leading edge of an oncoming rainy weather system, rain does not necessarily follow every time.

For me, the only things that spectral color in the sky portends for sure are the promises of God. In other words, whenever I see rainbows or their kin I cannot help but think of God’s faithfulness. The rainbow is held in Judeo-Christian culture as a symbol of God’s fidelity to his followers, based upon the story of Noah and the flood:

          God said, "This is the sign of the covenant I am making between me and you, and

          everything living around you and everyone living after you. I'm putting my rainbow in

          the clouds, a sign of the covenant between me and the Earth. From now on, when I

          form a cloud over the Earth and a rainbow appears in it, I'll remember my covenant

          between me and you and everything living, that never again will floodwaters destroy all                         life. When the rainbow appears in the cloud I'll see it and remember the eternal

          covenant between God and everything living, every last living creature on Earth."

          (Genesis 9:12-16, The Message)

I hope you enjoy the photo. And I pray you will also be constantly aware of the faithfulness of God.

~~RGM, July 26, 2013

QOTM...*: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

(*Quote of the Month)

Over the pallid sea and the 

silvery mist of the meadows,

Silently one by one, in the 

infinite meadows of heaven,

Blossomed the lovely stars,

the forget-me-nots of the angels.

--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

OK, I know I did a quote from Longfellow a short time back, but looking up at the summer night skies these days I could not resist posting another. I had actually intended to share it last month when I did the selection from my nature journal entitled “Enhanced Night Vision,” a piece on stargazing and other kinds of seeing, but I forgot. Click the title to check it out if you missed it.

Longfellow, you may recall, was a 19^th Century American poet (1807-1882), a card-carrying romantic, his work replete with emotive phrases calling out the beauty of God’s creation. These particular lines are from the third chapter, Part 1, of his epic poem Evangeline, A Tale of Acadie. It is a beautiful quote within a beautiful piece, the story of a betrothed young woman and man separated from each other during the British deportation of early French settlers from the Canadian Maritimes in the mid-1700’s. The entire work is available for free from Amazon or Gutenberg, to be enjoyed by other hopeless romantics like me.

Many a time have I sat before the developing night sky watching stars appear thusly. Longfellow’s reference to them as ‘the forget-me-nots of the angels’ is a lovely thought, as Gail and I have also enjoyed countless times photographing these delightful little blue flowers in early spring. I had not considered the resemblance before reading the lines, but now cannot forget it.

~RGM, July 18, 2013

From My Journal: A Bit of a Nature Autobiography

During our visit here to Florida’s east coast to see my wife’s parents, I had the rare pleasure yesterday of observing on the eastern horizon both a sunrise and a near full moonrise over the ocean on the same day. The former took place at 7:15am, seen from my usual morning jaunt at Hobe Sound National Wildlife Refuge on Jupiter Island; exactly fifteen hours and two minutes later, I witnessed the latter from the rocky beach behind the historic Gilbert’s Bar House of Refuge on Hutchinson Island, the next barrier island to the north. Both sun and moon came up blood red.  Waves broke firmly but somewhat quietly across flat sand in the morning, though in a stiff wind; they crashed mightily last evening against the coquina reef rocks, ironically making high spray in calm air.

Hobe Sound NWR, Florida

To the best of my recollection it is the first time I have ever witnessed both moments upon the same day, and it was somewhat unplanned. As offshore clouds allow, I see the sunrise frequently in my early morning walks along the beach when I am here; and I had also taken previous note of moonrise times, in the event an opportunity might present itself through the family activities for the more rare chance to see a moonrise over the ocean, a particularly lovely experience. In any one-week stay, of course, lunar realities are such that there’s only a one in four chance that opportunity might present itself at a humane hour! So to be able to hit them both then on the same day was a singular, coincidental delight. (The only other thing to which I can compare it is the day I was able to set foot in both the Atlantic and Pacific, but that story is for another time…)

Why do such things give me such pleasure? What is it about nature that gives me this buzz? Sometimes I think myself a nutcase! But my delight with such a simple thing as this, curiously, came the same day that a question had been posed me by my daughter Maren, vacationing with us; on our way back from the beach in the afternoon, she asked, “Dad, how old were you when you first began to appreciate the natural world?” It is a question I had pondered before, though coming to no particular conclusion, and I told her that. I mentioned a few things that had influence, and she found them interesting and urged me to write about it (to share on my blog). So since I am still on vacation, I find now to be an opportune time to do so. Forgive me if it is a mite longer than my typical blog.

Why do such things give me

such pleasure? What is it about

nature that gives me this buzz? 

Purple Coneflower

I wish I could say that there had been a specific experience that captured me as a child, but I remember none. To be sure, I played outdoors a lot during my unique, disparate childhood. Unique? Disparate? I explain. For my first twelve years of life my family each summer vacated our home in the very urban core of Chicago’s near north side for the far north woods of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula; my mother’s grandparents’ homesteaded family farm became our home for the summer’s duration, and we would return to Chicago around Labor Day in September to start school. In the U.S., more different environments than Chicago’s inner city and the rural U.P. can hardly be found. Additionally, the farmhouse had neither running water nor electricity, so what was there to do except be outdoors? Rainy days seemed a jail sentence. Once at ‘the farm,’ we seemed to kick off our shoes and run barefoot in the woods and fields all summer long save Sunday church. We had a couple swings on a huge white pine at woods’ edge. How wistfully I recall the well-used tufts of roots that provided our pathways through the nearby swamp; as a kid, one couldn’t get back a hundred feet into the murky wetland without thinking they might never find their way out again and back to civilization. I remember catching frogs and tadpoles (my cousins called them polliwogs) in the muddy little pond a half mile east on M69, now dry; or walking the mile west to Ten Mile Creek with a fishing pole and a can of grasshoppers and never catching anything; the moon-walk-sized leaps down the steep sand dunes made after the DOT had negotiated to buy sand from off my grandmother’s property; climbing (and falling out of) apple trees in the orchard at my Aunt Margie’s in Bark River; and Saturday evening trips to various area waterholes for a weekly bath, sorely needed.

But I also remember being outdoors a lot during our school year in Chicago: playing marbles with neighborhood friends on whatever piece of appropriate bare dirt we could find to scratch out a hole (no circle marbles for us!); camping out overnight in friends’ backyards, with one kid usually producing a stolen cigarette or two that I managed to avoid; ice skating on frigid Chicago afternoons or evenings at Haas Park, or the two nearby schoolyards, Goethe and Brentano, all of which had been flooded by the city for winter recreation; rolling down the grassy slope of the big hill at Montrose Harbor Park on spring or fall Sunday afternoons; saucering or sledding down the nearby ‘hills’ (a real stretch!) made when the Kennedy Expressway was constructed; scouring the woods and creek at Bunker Hill Forest Preserve during family holiday picnics; scavenging in construction pits when new buildings were being put in somewhere in the neighborhood or the O’Hare Airport ‘L’ subway was being dug; hikes at Illinois State Beach State Park or Lake Geneva just over the Wisconsin border with my church youth group; or my favorite – simply walking along the breakwaters and ripraps of the Lake Michigan shoreline three miles east of our Logan Square home.

So, Chicago and the U.P. – the differences were huge, even schizophrenic, but the outdoors was the common denominator. Still, among all these things, I don’t recall being particularly passionate about the outdoors as a child; it’s just the place where childhood life and play seemed to happen. Three experiences, however, stand out for me as a late teen, and I look back to these as watershed times when God’s natural world staked its claim on my spirit.

I was eighteen the middle of my sophomore year in college, winter, early 1973. Several of us got it in our minds, after a high spiritual experience at North Park College that winter

White-fronted goose migration, Squaw Creek NWR, Missouri

(some even called it a revival), to put together a trip over spring break to several of our Covenant denomination’s churches in Florida to do youth programs. (You could bet that it would not have been to Winnipeg!) At that time, I had never been out of the three north central states of Illinois, Wisconsin and Michigan – essentially the straight line between our Chicago home and Grandma’s U.P. ‘farm.’ The six or seven of us students camped along the way and ended the trip leading a large youth retreat at a state park in the Florida Keys. I remember being smitten by the ocean, the palms, and the birds and flowers of a south Florida winter, mesmerized by the newness of the unique things I was seeing. I also remember being smitten by the worst sunburn of my young life.

Several months later I spent the first of three summers working at a Covenant Bible Camp, Mission Meadows to be exact, in Upstate New York. My experiences there were formative for my life in many profound ways, but dragging my cabin of charges around the ample woods and along the wilder shores of Lake Chautauqua was one of its many joys. Though I was the maintenance director that first summer in addition to being a cabin counselor, I also ended up spending a lot of time with a friend who was the outdoor ed guy, who taught me a lot about eastern forest and riparian habitats. A highlight for me each week was a day trip that we all took some distance from the camp for a hike in an incredibly beautiful creek gorge, the name of which slips me. I couldn’t get enough of it, and imagine that along some of the trek there wasn’t much of an apparent difference between camper and counselor.

Finally, the following two springs, a number of us back at North Park put together two more spring break trips, this time as a biracial group, visiting an African-American church’s Bible camp in eastern Tennessee, Cedine Bible Mission of Spring City, nestled on an arm of the huge reservoir created by the TVA. Though we did a lot of painting and fix up (I can still smell the creosote!), we also had a chance to take hikes, and I shimmied myself into a kayak for the first time in my life exploring backwaters of the lake. Again, things were new to me I had not known before. Appreciations that had begun to develop in me as a child were coming to fruition.

I realized by then a pattern was beginning to emerge. Wherever I went I found myself gravitating to parks, hikes, ranger lectures, campouts, nature expeditions, outdoor photography, lake recreation, you name it; if it was outdoors, it was where I wanted to be. It didn’t matter the discipline – biology, botany, dendrology, entomology, astronomy, meteorology, ornithology, geology, zoology – they were all interesting to me. And to my

Wintergreen

great happiness, I also met at that same time the young woman who would become my life partner; perhaps it was no coincidence that I discovered that she loved these things, too, for the only thing better than enjoying the beauties of life is having someone with whom to enjoy them.

To this day I find that natural beauty pierces my soul. Studying nature and enjoying its delights fills my leisure hours. It’s the reason why seeing a sun and moon rise over the ocean on the same day is so precious to me – it draws out of me a visceral response that I can honestly say feels like a holy ache, a God-created passion that has gripped me. Even in my workaday world of consultations, coaching sessions, conferences and workshops, give me a seat by a window with a view of a tree or the open sky and I can sit contentedly even through the longest (and sometimes even the most boring) of board meetings.

So that’s what occurs to me in answer to Maren’s question. Nothing earth shattering or dramatic about it, just a childhood and youth of easing into God’s magnificent creation. It is a pleasure that knows neither bounds nor end.

He makes me lie down in tender green pastures. He leads me beside still and restful waters. He refreshes and restores my life. (Psalm 23:2-3, Amplified)

~~RGM, from a March 30, 2013 Journal Entry,

Palm City FL