Thursday, April 22, 2010

Earth Day 2010


If you were to Google "Earth Day" you would discover 74,300,000 links. On YouTube there are 20,200,000. You could spend all of Earth Day reading or watching videos but you could never view all of these items. I don't recommend it.
I have a better idea. Go outside! Walk in the splendor of Spring, even if you have to wear your rubber boots and a poncho. Indeed, jump in a puddle and splash yourslef and anyone around you. Turn your face skyward and feel the rain trickle down your cheeks. Stick out your tongue and drink the sky's cordials.
From my front porch this morning a grand chorus had gathered in the prairie to sing the wonder of creation. The conductor was Maestro Great Horned Owl who sat atop a telephone pole. His direction is most subtle. The leading vocalist was the Mocking Bird whose repertoire was expansive. The depth of her range and complicated syntax was complemented by satirical and comical stanzas. The Ring-necked Pheasant offered a few brief solos, as did the Red-bellied Woodpecker. Other choral members included the Blue Jay, Meadowlark, Mourning Dove, Eastern Kingbird, a variety of Sparrows and Finches, Red-winged Blackbirds, Cardinals, Robins, Plovers, and Starlings. I think someone should have auditioned the Starlings. As usual they were off key and out of tune.
Earth Day must surely be more than articles, speeches, resolutions, videos, and the usual litany of all the things we should do to save the earth. We cannot save the earth unless we are prfoundly in tune with her harmonies. Remember this stanza from St. Francis of Assisi's "All Creatures of Our God and King:"
Dear Mother Earth, who day by day
unfoldest blessings on our way,
O praise him, Alleluia!
The flowers and fruits that in thee grow,
let them his glory also show:
O praise him, O praise him. Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Forsythian Times


The forsythia are leaking yellow drops of spring. The sun-faced daffodils dance in prairie winds while the willow weeps slender streams of golden green. The air is twittering with song birds. This morning eight American goldfinch crowded our feeder. The plovers scuttle across the fields. I saw a hawk on the side of the highway gathering nesting straw. I am still waiting for the scissor-tailed flycatcher to return. Let me know if you see them.
This is also Holy Week, the season of betrayal and hope, death and new life. The Roman Catholic Church reels in the scandal of new allegations of child sexual abuse in Europe. Worse still is the revelation that bishops, cardinals, and popes have betrayed children - dare I say raped them again - and their families with denial obfuscation, and concealment of the truth.
As the acorn must go down into the earth in order to resurrect as a great tree; as Jesus died in the face of imperial power in order to offer the hope of life beyond Caesar; so must the Pope resign his seat of power if ever the Roman Catholic Church is to be purged of this scandal. The salvation of the church calls for such an offering and full disclosure of every file and fact. Benedict XVI can only resurrect the meaning and vitality of the church by offering this sacrifce as deep penance for the sins of the fathers.