Pilgrimage

  I can't believe that its been a month since I last posted, but when you are on a pilgrimage you tend to lose track of time. And this sabbatical is definitely turning out to be a pilgrimage. A pilgrimage is said to be a journey to a sacred place or shrine, its supposed to be long and I suspect arduous like when people travel the Camino. While I haven't walked for weeks and weeks, I have been on a journey, one that has been arduous in its own way. I have visited many churches, including travelling to Calgary to spend time at Hillhurst United, spoken to colleagues and read numerous books and have written up all of my visits to date. Of course the whole point of a pilgrimage is to be changed, to be open to what the Spirit is trying to tell you, to stop your regular routine and listen for God. I've been listening very hard, learning lots and not always been happy with what I've discovered.


Milk weed waiting for a Monarch butterfly

  My conclusion to date? Things are worse for the wider church then I thought and changing faster then I knew. Not the most cheerful of realizations. However, you can't move forward until you look the truth straight in the eye and face it. Having said this I am strangely not at all discouraged, but energized; we are after all a resurrection people. We have a lot of experience of the church dying and then rising with new life. But we can't rise unless we accept that much of what we have known is passing away and we will need to find different ways for people to encounter the holy, then the ones we have known and loved. I am also encouraged by the faith and courage of the churches I've visited and how they are responding to the challenges we all face.
So what will the future look like? I'll have lots of suggestions at the end of my sabbatical, but I want to give you a gardening metaphor.


Not quite enough to make wine... yet
 

 I have recently discovered the writings of Diana Beresford-Kroeger, she is a botanist, medical and agricultural researcher and a self described 'renegade scientist'. She also is doing all she can to resist  climate change. She believes that gardens of all shapes and sizes can make a difference for the planet. The key to gardens functioning this way is the creation of what she terms "the bioplan". The bioplan is simply realigning the garden to encourage its use as a natural habitat, it is a "blueprint for all connectivity of life in nature". It exists in complete harmony; there are trees and a kitchen garden

 Water both for the birds and insects

and shrubs for the birds that provide shelter and food, air ways for the birds to fly through, lawn for them to land on and flowers that bloom through the seasons.



  The key is that everything functions in balance and harmony as nature intended, no matter the size of your garden, everyone  can use a bioplan. You see each part of the bioplan supports the other, lose one part and everything is off balance. Essentially, I am saying we need a bioplan for the church. A balance of experiences, integrative worship, conversation, education, transformative engagement within the church and the wider community and social justice actions that give life to others and ourselves.
When I walked through my garden late this afternoon I realized that I had unintentionally created a bioplan, the pictures in this blog came from my garden and I have different eco systems in different places, but it all works together,  (except I now think we need a small pond!).
That's what  we are actually already beginning to create at my church, but it will need more work to get the balance right. But we have started and that's something very important.




snow pea