tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7114559688629231972024-03-05T08:34:45.713-08:00Blue Theology Tide-ingsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger251125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-15114852281857619602021-11-24T07:52:00.005-08:002021-11-24T07:52:48.835-08:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv0j4VqR9vN5ZCCgDqrcQtpj9Qcjuq1Mcr95vKFYP30_eoEYQ375xM4Ezrrcf0XKVBPw_g4Ft5MkJYrqsbIT5a6UA-shHajC0mOsKrZLnQWNJAcMkOD3r050sUqJL5pLHrSUMkmlDrAgjm/s1620/bigsur.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1620" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv0j4VqR9vN5ZCCgDqrcQtpj9Qcjuq1Mcr95vKFYP30_eoEYQ375xM4Ezrrcf0XKVBPw_g4Ft5MkJYrqsbIT5a6UA-shHajC0mOsKrZLnQWNJAcMkOD3r050sUqJL5pLHrSUMkmlDrAgjm/w400-h266/bigsur.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> Thanksgiving Day Parade<p></p><p><br /></p><p>This is where I’ll watch the parade on Thanksgiving Day. Not the Macy’s Parade in NYC, but along my main street – Highway One in Big Sur. </p><p><br /></p><p>I’ll stand on these cliffs near my home and see (or imagine) a magnificent parade of marine plants and animals. </p><p><br /></p><p>H – Holdfast, Hydromedusa</p><p>A – Anemone, Avocet</p><p>P – Plover, Pisaster</p><p>P – Puffin, Pelican, Phytoplankton</p><p>Y – Yarrow, Yellowtail, Yellowlegs (Greater and Lesser)</p><p><br /></p><p>T – Tern, Turbot, Tuna</p><p>H – Halibut, Hydrocoral</p><p>A – Anchovy, Abyss, Algae</p><p>N – Nudibranch, Notochords, Nematocysts</p><p>K – Kelp, Killdeer, Krill</p><p>S – Salmon, Sunfish, Sea Star, Sculpin, Senorita, Shrimp, Salp</p><p>G – Great White Shark, Gastropod </p><p>I – Invertebrates, Isopod</p><p>V – Vertebrates, Valella Valella, Vulture</p><p>I – Ichthyologist, Intertidal</p><p>N – Naturalist, Neurotoxins</p><p>G – Garibaldi, Gull, Gill</p><p><br /></p><p>I join with our pelagic cousins to wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving! </p><p><br /></p><p>So much to be thankful for. (Check out <thankyouocean.org>)</p><p>___________</p><p>I post these Wednesday ocean devotionals here and at www.bluetheologytideings.blogspot.com. This has been my Thanksgiving <br />post for many years.Thanks Steve Lonhardt from <sanctuarysimon.org> for the great photo. An amazing free library of ocean photos, thanks to NOAA.</p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-82440783380786383752021-11-17T06:13:00.004-08:002021-11-17T06:13:46.409-08:00<p> Back on the Water</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-kLgV2ttS4qqjLe-ZMzTjaqZJUauK6QMTaYqdjuvJhj_3howtNEAwVyLYmS3zwKnRnkaq5NdvGX8yBJv0nOTIY3EM76aTg6VxVKWppIiZENlmhhk1S0Qn5IATTnYqupzFFkbMbwep16F/s2048/opensea.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-kLgV2ttS4qqjLe-ZMzTjaqZJUauK6QMTaYqdjuvJhj_3howtNEAwVyLYmS3zwKnRnkaq5NdvGX8yBJv0nOTIY3EM76aTg6VxVKWppIiZENlmhhk1S0Qn5IATTnYqupzFFkbMbwep16F/s320/opensea.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>The crowd went “OOOOOH!” last week when this school of 30,000 sardines rose as if resurrected from the depths during the 11AM Open Sea feeding at the Monterey Bay Aquarium. </p><p><br /></p><p>Actually the sardines were not back from the dead, just cautious. They had waited below for the big mouths, sharks and tuna and mahi mahi, to get first dibs, then when staff cast their fav little krill on the surface (cast your krill on the water) the sardines snarfed them up.</p><p><br /></p><p>I’m back writing my Wednesday Blue Theology devotionals, affectionally called Blue Theology “Tide-ings.”</p><p><br /></p><p>I took a breather after I retired and while the Aquarium was closed for almost two years. But I’m back on my weekly Thursday volunteer guide shift and the ocean is (still) teeming with life and surprises.</p><p><br /></p><p>I stayed somewhat sane and connected to our blue planet during the early days of the pandemic by walking the beach and bluffs and praying for healing and comfort and hope for all of creation. </p><p><br /></p><p>But the doors were shut at what feels like a temple to ocean life, the Aquarium, where I have served as a simple verger every Thursday for 23 years.</p><p><br /></p><p>Anything different there? 40% of staff were let go, including some early retirements and different jobs for some of my dear friends, very sad. Some new young enthusiastic folks were hired, good to meet and learn from. All staff and guests must be vaccinated, must wear masks – we are a scientific organization, we believe in facts and professionals. So yes, changes. As I age, it’s good to meet new folks, be safe, keep learning.</p><p><br /></p><p>Otherwise the animals looked great, some a little bigger, like this hammerhead shark. Felt like seeing grandchildren after two years – how you’ve grown!</p><p><br /></p><p>Outside, the one world ocean, largest habitable expanse on earth, simply went on with life as usual, maybe a little quieter with fewer tankers and speed boats, a little cleaner with less oil spills and plastic, but as deep and full of beauty and hope as ever. Dive in!</p><p>_______<br /></p><p>I have retired from the Blue Theology Mission Station at the Christian Church of Pacific Grove, CA but the ministry continues under the fine leadership of Rev. Dan Paul. Check out www.bluetheology.com. I also post these weekly devotionals at www.bluetheologytideings.blogspot.com. Be in touch!</p><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-61342952133802580992020-08-19T11:24:00.000-07:002020-08-19T11:24:00.317-07:00Nature Shrieks, Again<div class="separator"><p class="MsoNormal" style="clear: right; float: right; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="322" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4CyMFPHjm9uIcTHwoTRARfeTHLMirfviW5MWB_v9ZH5p2hDcBNambLshadDWJqaKQY_PtvzzY7yGq5yeDkRdA5poAI9QNCd2Y2qbWaIva7TIw0_9pHanwkGzSEkDhwJKjEWVId-i48-H0/w403-h500/The_Scream_by_Edvard_Munch%252C_1893_-_Nasjonalgalleriet+2.png" width="403" /></p></div><p> <span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Nature Shrieks, Again</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Fire is shrieking again in California.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Edvard Munch titled this painting in German “</span><i><span face="" lang="DE" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Der Schrei der Natur</span></i><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">,” “The Scream of Nature.” In Norwegian he called it “Skrik,” meaning “shriek,” a more pained and searing sound than what we usually call “The Scream.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">The horrific fires burning this week in California, including two in rural Monterey County, near Salinas and Cachagua, bring back sad and scary memories for me of the Soberanes wildfire that burned all summer in 2016 in my neighborhood and the Los Padres Forest, 140,000 acres, at that time the most expensive wildfire in US history. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><div style="border-bottom: 1.5pt solid; border-image: initial; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: none; padding: 0in 0in 1pt;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; padding: 0in;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Here’s a rewrite of my column from 2016, days after we had been finally allowed back into our mercifully saved house, after three weeks’ evacuation. Many folks this month are not so lucky. <o:p></o:p></span></p></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Nature Shrieks<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">A therapist neighbor says we are a community of both relief and grief. Some of us are home, cleaning up fire gel on the outside and smoke on the inside. But others are sifting through the blackened debris of their houses and their lives. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">But elsewhere, fire still burns, and people still wait and watch. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">And listen. For the roar of fire.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">It’s not just Edvard Munch who hears the shrieks of nature.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">The wise “Earth Bible” series offers six “Ecojustice Principles.” One is the Principle of Voice: “</span><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Earth is a subject capable of raising its Voice in celebration and against injustice.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Nature makes all kinds of noises. Deep calls to deep. All creation is groaning as in childbirth. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">But the noise I’m hearing from these fires and seeing in this painting is a shriek of pain. We humans treat nature as an object, not a subject. We stab the landscape with the destructive forces of climate change, drought, overpopulation, a careless and cruel attitude of ownership and objectification. (I’m talking about you, hikers who started the fire, but we’ve all set the dry stage for worldwide wildfires.)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">This fire is a shriek of pain from the land.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Munch wrote about this painting, “One evening I was walking along a path, the city was on one side and the fjord below. I felt tired and ill. I stopped and looked out over the fjord—the sun was setting, and the clouds turning blood red. I sensed a scream passing through nature; it seemed to me that I heard the scream. I painted this picture, painted the clouds as actual blood. The color shrieked. I stood there trembling with anxiety – and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature.</span><sup><span face="" style="color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">”</span></sup><span face="" style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">Nature is loud and has something to say. Sometimes the trees of the field clap their hands in joy. But today to me she sounds sad and mad. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">I usually write in these weekly posts about the ocean. Which can also be noisy and destructive, especially when amplified by climate “change.” Scientists now call it “climate chaos,” instead of “warming” or even “change.” No denying the chaos of raging hurricanes and ravaging fires. Nature’s voice is loud these days, and she’s screaming at us, a cry of pain, a shriek.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">_________</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span face="" style="background: white; color: #252525; font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 14pt;">I post these ocean (and fire) devotions every Wednesday here and on Facebook.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-34853403575595317972020-08-12T06:42:00.002-07:002020-08-12T06:42:25.726-07:00Are You a Swimmer or a Drifter?<div class="separator"><p class="MsoNormal" style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; margin-top: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p><img border="0" data-original-height="477" data-original-width="480" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyy47Ux3O18loq4qXcOW5l6mj0nTUnl1CuQuoBdYS7UvcBpZP0EcCW71qskz9X6m70TeaZ7iqGRGprmcMsNXFCned298UnQYiX7z0x2fZctV54kmwbs8prgtTdjFycg5h2B-FLelPEezw1/w307-h306/moon-jellyfish-suspended-in-dark-water-royalty-free-image-1589388096.jpg" width="307" /></p></div><div class="separator"><p class="MsoNormal" style="clear: right; float: right; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="900" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg66YbmMizYeqVblAnZp-it5UO7Uf2EzsCYHRCkNUCfxXd4qVGDkxwmfDGtiCds6PzqBokeKyIDUtu0WZQ2flaLUB-OXIdcIGWTcbGtTwf8-grAeupohO3P-nChhDDBLLZV8tnfF3mmfrSD/w410-h274/mackerel.jpg" width="410" /></p></div><p> <span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Are You a Swimmer or a Drifter?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">I used to be a swimmer, but I have become a drifter. I enjoyed swimming. Drifting is so very different, I’m still adjusting. But there sure are advantages to my new lifestyle, and much to learn.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Far out at sea, beyond rocks and hiding places and visible sea floor, animals either swim or they drift. Swimmers, like tuna, mackerel, sardines, find their dinner, and avoid being someone else’s dinner, by moving fast, often in a school, eating on the mo<span style="font-size: 12pt;">ve, and eating a lot, to make all that energy they need to keep swimming.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Drifters, another word for plankton, (the word is the sa<span style="font-size: 12pt;">me as “planet” – Greeks thought the planets </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">“drifted” through the heavens) cannot propel themselves much, so they find dinner by stinging prey (jellies) or just by bumping into it (copepods, diatoms.)</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Drifters need much less energy, so eat much less food.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Unlike the swimmers who can avoid prey by swimming fast and/or in schools, drifters protect themselves by being transparent, or tiny, or stinging.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Actually it’s not really an either/or, swimming or drifting. Almost every creature begins life as plankton, little drifters. Even human egg and embryo. Some remain drifters all their lives – copepods, jellies. But some drifters, as they age, grow into swimmers (fish) or they “settle” (crabs, sea stars.).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">As an Aquarium volunteer my favorite station is the “Tiny Drifters” microscope, formerly called the Plankton Lab, where we can show guests magnifications of tiny live animals. Putting a tiny plankton baby crab or sea star under the lens, I would say, “It’s drifting now, but will grow up to settle or swim away. I have children in my house - they are in the plankton stage of their lives, but eventually they will ‘settle’ or move on.” And yes they have.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">But strangely I, their aging mother, have gone from a life of happy non-stop swimming through life, moving fast to the next meal and accomplishment, to a contented drifting. Call it retirement, pandemic lockdown, a spiritual seeking for still waters - this girl is one peaceful plankton.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Another difference is that swimmers travel mostly horizontal, while drifters go vertical. It’s not quite accurate to say that drifters can’t propel themselves, or that they just float along. They actually take part in the largest migration on earth, travel<br />ing every night from the safe dark depths up to the surface for food under cover of night, and then back down deep at dawn. It’s estimated from their tiny body size it would be like us walking 20 miles a day. It’s just a different kind of movement from the frantic swimmers. These days I too, rather than propelling myself forward, am having some “down” time.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">It’s easier to call myself “plankton” than “drifter.” We modern Westerners disapprove of drifters, assuming they are tramps or vagabonds, aimless, moochers. Get into the swim of things! Expend more energy, consume more, including other life forms, you must keep moving to live. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Like all metaphors, this one is exaggerated and imperfect. But these days this drifter is certainly consuming less (well, at least buying at lot less stuff), impacting my environment less, using less energy. I am not hiding in crowds or chasing a dream. Of course, while both swimmers and drifters live dangerous often short lives, I am so very lucky to be able to drift in my small safe habitat with enough to eat and not much danger (so far.)<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><div style="border-bottom: 1.5pt solid windowtext; border-image: initial; border-left: none; border-right: none; border-top: none; padding: 0in 0in 1pt;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; padding: 0in;">Maybe I’m reversing that normal pattern, how drifting plankton grow up to become determined swimming fish or settled crabs. I’m doing the opposite, getting out of the swim, taking “down” time, and casting my fate to the wind. And currents. Sail on.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; padding: 0in;">__________</p></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">I post these Blue Theology “Tide-ing” ocean devotions every Wednesday here and at on Facebook. Come and sea, be in touch!<o:p></o:p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-65591305031604252922020-08-05T06:59:00.001-07:002020-08-05T06:59:17.332-07:00Masks<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Masks<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">When I wear my jelly fish mask I am protecting not only myself, and others, but I am also <span style="font-size: 12pt;">protecting the ocean.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4DEeJu82sOdN2spMsY9sZMRp9fRUOc2RhqGbeGtJ5ChqDGnBA2TbsqNMuLcuHzINzpNclVOHR1hQ-Jkp5uS1YoFQlobZDzjOr4c_wSYun5uWohQSXNJ3vaXYYMPEhbHTaSaXcv-owwyR/s254/jellymask.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqOZK0-XAN9EegSLvqvmI96z6sTvycke8uClCnUEkXN8PAltD7OzxOO0ylvqRlC6FHB36ou5cMH4fAdNG86L9mcviNZbA055RDD7-VcRWiHzVXIJZxzinxVGKWwnD7Vt1c81g6H1n7fJh_/s254/jellymask.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="198" data-original-width="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqOZK0-XAN9EegSLvqvmI96z6sTvycke8uClCnUEkXN8PAltD7OzxOO0ylvqRlC6FHB36ou5cMH4fAdNG86L9mcviNZbA055RDD7-VcRWiHzVXIJZxzinxVGKWwnD7Vt1c81g6H1n7fJh_/s0/jellymask.jpeg" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4DEeJu82sOdN2spMsY9sZMRp9fRUOc2RhqGbeGtJ5ChqDGnBA2TbsqNMuLcuHzINzpNclVOHR1hQ-Jkp5uS1YoFQlobZDzjOr4c_wSYun5uWohQSXNJ3vaXYYMPEhbHTaSaXcv-owwyR/s254/jellymask.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><br /></p>How does wearing a mask protect the ocean? Ed Ricketts would know – that’s his statue near the water in Monterey. Even though he has been dead for 70 years, he’s protecting the ocean<span style="font-size: 12pt;">too by wearing his mask.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Ed Ricketts revolutionized the study of marine biology in the 1930s and 40s by spending countless hours knee deep in Pacific Grove’s rocky tidepools, exploring an<span style="font-size: 12pt;">d cataloguing what he c</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">alled “the habits and habitats” of marine animals and plants.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">His fabulous book “Between Pacific Tides” is Stanford University Press’s bestselling book, and it has never gone out of print.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Ricketts organized the book not by individual species, as all previous books had been, but by habitat, where they live. “<span style="background: white; color: #202122;">Thus, crabs are not all treated in one single chapter; crabs of the rocky shore, high in the intertidal, are in a separate section from crabs of lower intertidal zones or sandy beaches.</span>” It was the students and grand-students of Ricketts who created the M<span style="font-size: 12pt;">onterey </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Bay Aquarium, which is likewise </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhupPs1jdxhQnEdc-XooW9zC5_AD4DdlmUqK8bG5d2FprzYMbGJUXoNXlrPtUNTDUUlQ4UuzpfJWhZjIIbLCgICAfe2WMdMvolpoinq2HZ5BnQiPZctESlPOC76v2iAJAH0YIqsc7D8HWy_/s300/rickettsmask.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhupPs1jdxhQnEdc-XooW9zC5_AD4DdlmUqK8bG5d2FprzYMbGJUXoNXlrPtUNTDUUlQ4UuzpfJWhZjIIbLCgICAfe2WMdMvolpoinq2HZ5BnQiPZctESlPOC76v2iAJAH0YIqsc7D8HWy_/s0/rickettsmask.jpeg" /></a></div><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">organized not by separate species, like old aquariums, but by habitats – Kelp Forest, Deep Reef, Sandy Seafloor, Open</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Ocean etc, neighborhoods.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Even the “Splash Zone” is not a cute name for the kids’ area, but a term from Ricketts, the high intertidal, where the waves splash.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Ok, but what about the masks and the ocean? Back in April I wrote in this weekly blog that Covid-19 does not live at sea (other viruses do), but I did propose a theology of viruses – check it out at <a href="http://bluetheologytideings.blogspot.com/2020/04/corona-virus-at-sea.html" style="color: #954f72;">http://bluetheologytideings.blogspot.com/2020/04/corona-virus-at-sea.html</a><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Masks are a paradox because they both separate us and connect us. They separate and protect me from the dangerous sneezes of others, and my sneezes from them. But masks also connect us – they prove dramatically, lethally, that one people can sicken others, or worse. When one suffers, all suffer. We’re in this together. No person is an island, or lives on an island. Or dies alone on an island. We’re all connected.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Rickets didn’t call his book “The Study of Ocean Animals and Plants” or even “The Study of Marine Habitats.” He used the word “Between.” He talked all the time about “inter-“ I think he coined the term “intertidal.” Oceans are in-between places, in between land masses. And oceans, like masks, both connect and separate. The Pacific separates us from Asia, and at the same time it connects us. That blue is so vast that Thailand monsoons don’t wreck our shores, but we do feel the effects of earthquakes and tsunamis even this far away, and oc<span style="font-size: 12pt;">ean currents run shore to shore.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">So wearing a mask doesn’t literally save a fish’s life, but it do<span style="font-size: 12pt;">es remind us how deeply connected we are, how we are a “between” people, in our towns, our nations, our world.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Our so-called freedom to do whatever we want stops right at the deadly cough, the in-between that is between you and me.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Our intertidal.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">And masks remind us that this invisible thing called air, that we blithely march through and breathe through every second of the day, air carries life and it carries death. And where does that air come from? – the ocean. 75% of all oxygen we breathe comes from ocean plants, and all weather comes from the ocean. As we live and breathe, or as we breathe and die, it is the ocean, connector and protector, we have to thank. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Stay safe out there.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">________<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">I post these ocean devotions every Wednesday here and on Facebook. I got my mask from another fab aquarium, the Aquarium of the Bay, at Pier 39 in SF. They sell many different cute mask animals. Buying their masks also supports their work, which is another way to protect the ocean. Check out a cool video about Ricketts, <a href="http://www.thegreattidepool.org" style="color: #954f72;">www.thegreattidepool.org</a><o:p></o:p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-40029294585315971952020-07-29T06:35:00.003-07:002020-07-29T06:36:58.158-07:00Coral Castle/Breathing Underwater<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5OG7Ul3DBkGLWjNW-2SWhOnocUvuEw5p-Vkez4NpBYyLELYyMN4DS3izQHoCXjjWJ72DH2perNHcGBXYDJhpVUSUKqeYlqjvhyphenhyphen_9rEzoP2ssOISubaaQrFUJVaDuYhsRqqLhxYm2bvIFr/s1600/coralunderwater.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1047" data-original-width="1600" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5OG7Ul3DBkGLWjNW-2SWhOnocUvuEw5p-Vkez4NpBYyLELYyMN4DS3izQHoCXjjWJ72DH2perNHcGBXYDJhpVUSUKqeYlqjvhyphenhyphen_9rEzoP2ssOISubaaQrFUJVaDuYhsRqqLhxYm2bvIFr/s400/coralunderwater.jpg" width="400" /></a><em><span style="border: 1pt none; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">“The sea crept higher, till it reached my door.</span></em><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">And I knew, then, there was neither flight, nor death, nor drowning.<o:p></o:p></span></em></span></div>
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<em><span style="border: 1pt none; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">That when the sea comes calling, you stop being neighbors,</span></em><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">Well acquainted, friendly-at-a-distance neighbors,<o:p></o:p></span></em></span></div>
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<em><span style="border: 1pt none; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">And you give your house for a coral castle,</span></em><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">And you learn to breathe underwater.”<o:p></o:p></span></em></span></div>
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<em><span style="border: 1pt none; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">You may recognize these concluding words of the poem “Breathing Under Water,” by Sister </span></em><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Carol Bieleck, RSCJ, if you’ve read the fabulous book of the same title by Franciscan Father Richard Rohr, about Spirituality and the 12 Steps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">In a Blue Theology prayer book of “Ocean Devotions,” this one could be my Call to Worship.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Here’s the whole poem. Just read it and let it “sink” in. I then add a few reflections, including a cool idea about how coral itself breathes underwater, and helps us all breathe as well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">But, really, the poem sinks/floats on its own – it might be best just to let the deep mystery be, leave that tender wet moment alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<strong><span style="border: 1pt none; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; padding: 0in;">Breathing Under Water</span></strong><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<em><span style="border: 1pt none; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">I built my house by the sea.</span></em><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">Not on the sands, mind you;</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">not on the shifting sand.</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">And I built it of rock.</span></em><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<em><span style="border: 1pt none; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">A strong house</span></em><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">by a strong sea.</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">And we got well acquainted, the sea and I.</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">Good neighbors.</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">Not that we spoke much.</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">We met in silences.</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">Respectful, keeping our distance,</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">but looking our thoughts across the fence of sand.</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">Always, the fence of sand our barrier,</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">always, the sand between.</span></em><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<em><span style="border: 1pt none; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">And then one day,</span></em><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">-and I still don’t know how it happened –</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">the sea came.</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">Without warning.</span></em><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<em><span style="border: 1pt none; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">Without welcome, even</span></em><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">Not sudden and swift, but a shifting across the sand like wine,</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">less like the flow of water than the flow of blood.</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">Slow, but coming.</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">Slow, but flowing like an open wound.</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">And I thought of flight and I thought of drowning and I thought of death.</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">And while I thought the sea crept higher, till it reached my door.</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">And I knew, then, there was neither flight, nor death, nor drowning.</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">That when the sea comes calling, you stop being neighbors,</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">Well acquainted, friendly-at-a-distance neighbors,</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">And you give your house for a coral castle,</span></em><br /><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">And you learn to breathe underwater.<o:p></o:p></span></em></span></div>
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<em><span style="border: 1pt none; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-style: normal; padding: 0in;">-Rohr uses the poem’s imagery to offer, in his words, “some underwater breathing lessons for a culture and a church that often appears to be drowning without knowing it,” trapped in the rising tide of brokenness and addiction, needing to surrender to God. </span></em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"> Rohr calls the 12 Steps “12 Breathing Lessons.” Having had a spiritual awakening, “</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">We can breathe, and we can even breathe under water, because the breath of God is everywhere.”</span><em><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-style: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">-“Breathing under water doesn’t make sense,” writes Fr. Arthur MacKay in a lecture based on Rohr’s book. “God acting on us does not make sense– in a world where we thought we succeeded, or failed on OUR OWN… It is the opposite of what we expect, a paradox.” Rohr calls that paradox healing, salvation, recovery. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">-Why is a castle made of coral so intriguing? I had a fishbowl in college with a fabulous castle my goldfish swan in and through. My mother read me Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses, and I can still recite the poem of a little boy dreaming as he sends boats of stick and leaves down river; “Green leaves a floating, Castles of the foam, Boats of mine a-boating, Where will all come home?” Castles of the foam. I want to live there in that mysterious wet palace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">-Talk about mystery – coral. It does breathe underwater. It looks like rock, forms solid reefs. But coral is an animal. And coral has its own in-house food service – ocean algae, a plant, lives in symbiosis with and within the coral. Animal and plant each ensure the other will live – structure and safety for the plant, built-in food for the coral animal. And while coral reefs </span><span style="background: white; color: #0d0d0d; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">cover only 0.0025 percent of the oceanic floor, those resident plants inside the coral generate much of the Earth’s oxygen. </span><span style="background: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Breathing for themselves underwater, corals also help create the oxygen that keeps us alive. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Another reason to move into the coral castle. There we can breathe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">I post these ocean devotions every Wednesday here and on Facebook.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"> Dive in with me!</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-9419026520513130502020-07-22T06:37:00.003-07:002020-07-22T06:38:45.543-07:00Sandcastle Theologian<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 12pt; text-align: justify;">
Sandcastle Theologian<o:p></o:p></div>
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Paul Tillich built sandcastles all his life. First on the sands of the Baltic Sea as a child and as an adult. Then in the US, from his 40’s long into retirement, on the Atlantic beaches at his beloved home on the eastern tip of Long Island. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I have always pictured Tillich as a man of cities, this profound Protestant theologian. He taught in urban, industrial Berlin, Dresden, and Frankfort until the Nazis forced him to flee Germany. In 1933 the faculty of Union Theological Seminary all agreed to take a cut in pay to fund Tillich’s escape and new life in the bustle and business of New York City, where he lived the rest of his life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But Tillich credited time spent on the coast and by the sea with inspiring many of his radical new ideas and new language of theology. <o:p></o:p></div>
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(This is a longer post than I usually do, reprinted from another website I used to write for. Tillich is hard to edit/summarize, but if you can, keep reading to the end for a sweet Frederick Buechner story about Tillich building in the sand and weeping.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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In his late career reflection <i>On the Boundaries: An Autobiographical Sketch</i>, Tillich frames his whole life as a series of paradoxes, boundaries he straddled, one of which is “The Boundary of City and Country.” He writes:<o:p></o:p></div>
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“The weeks and later months that I spent by the sea every year from the time I was eight were even more important [than his family background] for my life and work. The experience of the infinite bordering on the finite suited my inclination toward the boundary situation and supplied my imagination with a symbol that gave substance to my emotions and creativity to my thought. Without this experience it is likely that my theory of the human boundary situation, as expressed in <i>Religious Work</i>, might not have developed as it did.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“There is another development to be found in the contemplation of the sea; its dynamic assault on the serene firmness of the land and the ecstasy of its gales and waves. My theory of the “dynamic mass” in the essay “Mass and Spirit” was conceived under the immediate influence of the turbulent sea. The sea also supplied the imaginative element necessary for the doctrines of the Absolute as both ground and abyss of dynamic truth, and of the substance of religion as the thrust of the eternal into finitude. <o:p></o:p></div>
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"Nietzsche said that no idea can be true unless it was thought in the open air. Many of my ideas were conceived in the open and much of my writing done among trees or by the sea. Alternating regularly between the elements of town and country always has been and still is part of what I consider indispensable and inviolable in my life.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Tillich can be a bit dense and abstract. Let me unpack the above quotation for its “marine theology.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; font-size: 10pt;">§<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span>Coast and ocean give Tillich an imaginative symbol for the human experience of “the infinite bordering on the finite” and of religion as “the thrust of the eternal into finitude.” Ocean is the eternal, the infinite, while we land mammals are dependent on the land, the finite, but drawn to the depths, to the infinite. We are boundary, coastal people, longing for the infinite. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; font-size: 10pt;">§<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span>The infinite he also calls “the depths” and “the abyss” (which in Greek means ocean depths) and writes in a sermon, “The name of infinite and inexhaustible depth is God. That depth is what the word God means.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; font-size: 10pt;">§<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">Tillich likes the word “dynamic” – the dynamics of faith, and here, “the dynamic, ecstatic ocean” and “the Absolute (God) as ground and abyss of dynamic truth.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "wingdings"; font-size: 10pt;">§<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span>True ideas come from the open air, and open sea. Tillich loved cities, but he had studied German Romanticism, that we experience God in nature. In several sermons he condemns our utilitarian view of nature and how we must hear nature itself longing and crying for salvation.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But Tillich not only thought “deep” thoughts at the sea. He played there. I’m reading a biography of Tillich in which a grainy snapshot of a Long Island Tillich sandcastle appears. There are also all kinds of stories about his extensive travels, long walks, mountain climbing, and rambles by the sea. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And there is this beach story about Tillich that Frederick Buechner relates.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“They say that whenever the great Protestant theologian Paul Tillich went to the beach, he would pile up a mound of sand and sit on it gazing out at the ocean with tears running down his cheeks. One wonders what there was about it that moved him so.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“The beauty and power of it? The inexpressible mystery of it? The futility of all those waves endlessly flowing in and ebbing out again? The sense that it was out of the ocean that life originally came and that when life finally ends, it is the ocean that will still remain? Who knows?<o:p></o:p></div>
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“In his theology Tillich avoided using the word <i>God</i> because it seemed to him too small, denoting only another being among beings. He preferred to speak instead of the Ground of Being, of God as that which makes being itself possible, as that because of which existence itself exists. His critics complain that he is being too metaphysical. They say they can't imagine praying to anything so abstract and remote.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Maybe Tillich himself shared their difficulty. Maybe it was when he looked at the ocean that he caught a glimpse of the One he was praying to. Maybe what made him weep was how vast and overwhelming it was and yet at the same time as near as the breath of it in his nostrils, as salty as his own tears.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Why is it so sweet to picture Tillich doing the childlike playful act of making a sandcastle? Why are we surprised to hear of him sitting on a pile of sand and weeping? Maybe because we believe the stereotype of German sternness or that theologians repress their feelings? Do we assume that academics stay inside all day? Can one have such “deep” profound ideas and then spend hours building something that the tide will destroy? <o:p></o:p></div>
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This ocean person is simply grateful that Tillich followed his countryman Nietzsche’s idea that true ideas must be thought in the open air. For me to be able to finish this essay, I had to take a walk outside. Thanks, Paulus.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">___________</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I post these ocean devotions every Wednesday here and on Facebook.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Come and sea.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-20250975446290262322020-07-15T06:57:00.000-07:002020-07-15T06:57:23.029-07:00Who is Safe at Point Lobos?<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Who is Safe at Point Lobos?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUy_LH01mecw2bhZqyi1yh4wd5azceSTAuwxw-CQlykU1ZH4o0ZSIgd9B6MW0sAim9gtoMwXwl-RVYhP6-ubQ7cC5wX5HC5Pyy2sv6AzIZapu6bfbxGrCuHE5sD0QpguKdsQgbpVkpLgia/s1600/plcypresss.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUy_LH01mecw2bhZqyi1yh4wd5azceSTAuwxw-CQlykU1ZH4o0ZSIgd9B6MW0sAim9gtoMwXwl-RVYhP6-ubQ7cC5wX5HC5Pyy2sv6AzIZapu6bfbxGrCuHE5sD0QpguKdsQgbpVkpLgia/s400/plcypresss.JPG" width="400" /></a>Was Point Lobos State Reserve here on Monterey Bay a safe place for me to hike this past week? Closed since March because of the pandemic, this magical place, called “the crown jewel of the State Park system,” welcomed me back to its power and beauty that day, alongside a zillion of my closest friends. If you plan to go, get there early.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Of course Point Lobos is safe – it’s a State Reserve, not a State Park. To “reserve” means “to set aside, to preserve for future use.” Which is also a definition of “to make safe.” Considering that Point Lobos in 19<sup>th</sup> and early 20<sup>th</sup> century was a busy commercial site for fishing, whaling, abalone canning, coal mining, granite quarrying, cattle raising, and that it almost became a town with hundreds of homes, Point Lobos was indeed saved, and set aside for the future. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Designated a State Reserve in the 1960s, it later became part of the Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary - sanctuary, again, means a safe place. And it’s part of the California State Marine Reserves network, which limits fishing in its waters.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Unlike a Park, a Reserve is managed with the wildlife in mind, not people – no ball games, stay on the trail, closed before sunset when the animals come out to eat. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Which means it’s actually only safe for the animals and trees and ocean, no guaranteed safety for us. It’s closed occasionally in the winter during high surf, high winds, downed trees and mudslides, because the people, not the animals, might get hurt.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Some of us locals (and probably some tourists) grumble that the State folks are being too cautious. On any day, wet or dry, winter or summer, a guest could risk life on the wet rocks, slip on a trail, trip over a branch. Life is dangerous. We go to what has been called “the greatest meeting of land and sea,” to the wild, to, as Thoreau said, see our limits pushed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Some of us grumbled also when it was closed in March – can’t we be outside and distance and escape our lockdown? They tried keeping it open, but folks were not staying apart or wearing masks, and then the whole coast was coned off to discourage out of town visitors. Now those turnouts and beaches are slowly reopening. Lobos was one of the last to welcome visitors back.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Maybe State Parks is just doing their job, being good stewards, when they close it. The land and trees and animals need some recovery time free of thrill-seeking tourists, some respite after a storm. It’s not all about us and what we want. Stewardship sometimes means saying no.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I did feel safe on my hike at Lobos. This time around everyone was wearing a mask, and rangers cautioned us to distance and be safe. But will I go back? Not sure – that was a lot of people and so many cars parked on the highway to pass coming and going. It was great to see deer and dolphins, lupines and lace lichen, granite and breakers, Whaler’s Cove and Bird Island. <o:p></o:p></div>
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But I think I’ll do my small part to let it be a true sanctuary and reserve, without my presence at least for a while. Let it rest, and be safe.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I post these ocean devotions every Wednesday here and on Facebook. <o:p></o:p></div>
Ocean blessings to you all.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-81739361873995284512020-07-08T06:40:00.000-07:002020-07-08T06:40:10.874-07:00Water: Struggle, Pain, Rebirth<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Water: Struggle, Pain, Rebirth<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Black bodies have always known struggle when it comes to water.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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If you’ve been to a poetry slam, you know the power of the performance. It must be heard, not just read.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCeOsvSVYJqMc6aHxulkiHkpStGi4NLwz78evBqBg7mmokv2OPMFEhsq6N9i__0YNrvnTGK9H1aXDxuJktDu9XuZpuBTMdsogDxQPYlgpYLex-zYTH_jZ7iHHnYcbBIGBMq6n4qh6vEEh6/s1600/bravenewvoices+water.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1440" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCeOsvSVYJqMc6aHxulkiHkpStGi4NLwz78evBqBg7mmokv2OPMFEhsq6N9i__0YNrvnTGK9H1aXDxuJktDu9XuZpuBTMdsogDxQPYlgpYLex-zYTH_jZ7iHHnYcbBIGBMq6n4qh6vEEh6/s400/bravenewvoices+water.png" width="400" /></a><o:p> </o:p></div>
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Go to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=9&v=XlcwcjCZGps&feature=emb_logo" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=9&v=XlcwcjCZGps&feature=emb_logo</span></a><u><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></u><o:p></o:p></div>
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to hear “Water” by these four artists. I tried to transcribe it – here are some excerpts. <o:p></o:p></div>
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More info below on ocean murder at sea during the Middle Passage. But really, watch and listen….<o:p></o:p></div>
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(Singing…) “Under the sea, under the sea…”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Wading in the water are the bones of our sons and daughters.<o:p></o:p></div>
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On high tide skeletons skate on soil.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Black bodies have always known struggle when it comes to water.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In a cemetery disguised as an oceanic playground<o:p></o:p></div>
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I was in the Middle Passage between ashes and holiness.<o:p></o:p></div>
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An oil spill of our family polluted the water.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I, my sister’s keeper, sacrificed my breath to keep her afloat.<o:p></o:p></div>
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She sank to the bottom to raise me<o:p></o:p></div>
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But something raised me<o:p></o:p></div>
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Palms on the soles of our feet<o:p></o:p></div>
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Ancestral ghosts wouldn’t allow the sea to swallow us whole - again.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After Yemaya, African goddess of water, gave birth to the 14 arishas, her water breaking caused the great flood that created the ocean.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After my own mother’s water broke she named me Morgan. It means “of the sea.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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And the water was where she hoped I’d learn to breathe.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But when my father told me the truth of my conception as they drowned themselves in liquor on homecoming night, it was then that I realized I was gifted with the name so I would never have to know what sinking felt like.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Black bodies paving ocean floors<o:p></o:p></div>
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Like drowning family trees<o:p></o:p></div>
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This is why waves taste like tears<o:p></o:p></div>
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This is why oceans are salty.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Black bodies have always known pain when it comes to water.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I press my ear to an abandoned skull, hear the thoughts of the woman who used to live inside it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The struggle and the scream, “They tried to kill me.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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It was the sound of the ocean. I was told it was a conch. But they didn’t know.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Yamaya’s first gift to humans was a seashell in which our voice could always be heard,<o:p></o:p></div>
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A reminder that whether slave ships, firehoses, levies, tears, <o:p></o:p></div>
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Black bodies have always known rebirth when it comes to water.<o:p></o:p></div>
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No bullets, no fists, no chains, no whips can hurt an ocean<o:p></o:p></div>
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We are children of the sea<o:p></o:p></div>
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Underwater is where we have learned to…..(big breath.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Up on the soil they work all day<o:p></o:p></div>
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Out in the sun they slave away<o:p></o:p></div>
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While we devotin’<o:p></o:p></div>
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Full time to floatin’<o:p></o:p></div>
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Under the sea.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOxSOO8nL_wjg2JUHvD58DHEOPPxg0nm0iwJBrqY81m9ZHNTyX_W2W2nnRLJwQrsC9cebzGF0E9K2L0g1OPW0qJsbfodq0nfQpKlubb6gOSkGPec9mM2yCtIarx3p0ODLOYF3BYP6fS2Y/s1600/vicissitudes-005-jason-decaires-taylor-sculpture.jpg_backup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1142" data-original-width="1600" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOxSOO8nL_wjg2JUHvD58DHEOPPxg0nm0iwJBrqY81m9ZHNTyX_W2W2nnRLJwQrsC9cebzGF0E9K2L0g1OPW0qJsbfodq0nfQpKlubb6gOSkGPec9mM2yCtIarx3p0ODLOYF3BYP6fS2Y/s400/vicissitudes-005-jason-decaires-taylor-sculpture.jpg_backup.jpg" width="400" /></a>I wrote last week about Danni Washington who taught me of the lingering anger and pain from so many deaths at sea during the Atlantic Slave Trade. Dear friend Anne Swallow Gillis sent me this performance by a team at a Youth Speaks poetry slam, “Brave New Voices.” (youthspeaks.org)<o:p></o:p></div>
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More research led me to this sculpture by Jason deCaires Taylor on the ocean floor off Grenada of 26 Black children holding hands underwater. And to a review of a book, “Slavery at Sea” by Sowande’ Mustakeem that estimates 15% of slaves were thrown overboard alive or dead, maybe 1.5 million bodies and souls in the ocean graveyard. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="background: white;">“Slavery was not a phenomenon experienced once captives disembarked, but rather, as Mustakeem suggests, slavery began in that liminal space at sea…Mustakeem challenges the notion that the plantation was first initiation into the world of chattel slavery. Viewed from within her daring paradigm, the experiences at sea constituted the first phase of enslavement…..She asks readers to understand the Middle passage from the standpoint of the men, women and children confined to the hull of leaking “waterlogged coffins.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white;">When it comes to water, let us learn of the struggle, share in the pain, and labor for the rebirth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white;"><o:p> ___________</o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white;">I write these ocean devotions every Wednesday here and at on Facebook. Our Blue Theology Mission Station service trips for youth are cancelled this summer, but we still pray and work for the ocean here on Monterey Bay. Bluetheology.com.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-21781338038472836332020-07-01T06:41:00.000-07:002020-07-01T06:41:20.578-07:00Black Lives and Blue Water<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Black Lives and Blue Water<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIF_wQzCExvrlMn4mlrTny5i9GM0oOoN4NY0nR3eQO1-IVOz9EBtGaENNXu0vHkVRhdGCNL2tSrBcM8j84OaYFXx1ECHb6odNVe3Q1di3_XH0qhfvBO5GZpKXFJ8ZtDVqGqpBA8cVtoV0p/s1600/danni.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIF_wQzCExvrlMn4mlrTny5i9GM0oOoN4NY0nR3eQO1-IVOz9EBtGaENNXu0vHkVRhdGCNL2tSrBcM8j84OaYFXx1ECHb6odNVe3Q1di3_XH0qhfvBO5GZpKXFJ8ZtDVqGqpBA8cVtoV0p/s400/danni.jpeg" width="400" /></a>In my pantheon of heroes and sheroes, my new favorite is Danni Washington, science storyteller, passionate ocean advocate, STEM advocate for young people especially girls and the only woman of color hosting a TV science show.<o:p></o:p></div>
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At age 21, a recent marine science grad from Univ. of Miami, Danni founded “The Big Blue and You” to educate and inspire youth about ocean conservation through art and media, with yearly “Art by the Sea” celebrations, so far involving 5000 kids. In her fab “Pearls of Wisdom” series she connects girls to marine science mentors like legendary Dr. Sylvia Earle, “Her Deepness,” pictured here. She hosts the CBS series “Xploration: Nature Knows Best,” and was involved in this year’s hugely successful Smithsonian Earth Day project “Earth Optimism.” Just to name a few. Check them out, and her website, Instagram pics and YouTube channel. (I first heard her speak at the March for the Ocean in DC two years ago.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjclsKYrxo-2gBYze6mK9_TzyalE-iw-vl8UwwXYPbAT-FpZnoZrD61Gmo5WO-tHBdD74pOynvXCQktIXu7gkbGE_c6rXjXGfRj48IJOdi40iQS12xjTxg_u6nOyGUO-K07AleGYUhuUYUu/s1600/Danni%252BWashington%252BEarthxGlobal%252BGala%252B7CtT3I95K42l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjclsKYrxo-2gBYze6mK9_TzyalE-iw-vl8UwwXYPbAT-FpZnoZrD61Gmo5WO-tHBdD74pOynvXCQktIXu7gkbGE_c6rXjXGfRj48IJOdi40iQS12xjTxg_u6nOyGUO-K07AleGYUhuUYUu/s400/Danni%252BWashington%252BEarthxGlobal%252BGala%252B7CtT3I95K42l.jpg" width="266" /></a>This past week she spoke with David Helvarg (another hero) on his podcast “Rising Seas” about “Black Lives and Blue Water.” She bemoaned the stereotype that the environmental community is a white middle class movement, pointing out polls that asked, “Are you alarmed or concerned about climate change?” 69% of Latinx folks said yes, 57% of Blacks, and only 49% of whites. She reminded us that communities of color are the most impacted by climate change, pollution and rising seas, especially in frontline communities like along the Gulf.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I learned something new from her about Black folks and water. “With the history of the transatlantic slave trade, Black people have a unique relationship to the water because of the traumas inflicted on them in the water, with millions of lives lost at sea. Water served as a barrier, imprisoning folks, keeping them enslaved because they didn’t know how to swim. That legacy was passed on from generation to generation all the way to Jim Crow, when we were not allowed access to public pools, couldn’t learn to swim. Black kids today are 10 times more likely to drown that white kids. To swim is a basic skill we should have, it’s the first step to entering the ocean and wanting to be part of and connecting with our blue planet.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Check out her various projects to learn more. She is smart, funny, wise. Indeed another of her creative ways to get kids into the ocean is by presenting herself as the “Mocha Mermaid – alluring, playful, mysterious and wise.” Look up her mermaid costume! Our world needs more such ocean advocates.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I post these ocean devotions every Wednesday here and at on Facebook.<o:p></o:p></div>
I am always happy to share ideas and projects/people/practices to deepen your connection to the ocean. Be in touch! FYI the Monterey Bay Aquarium is reopening July 13 for limited reserved visitors. However I won’t be going back to my 22 year volunteer guide shift just now, too risky for this household of oldsters, maybe in the future.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-76953588757559067562020-06-24T06:44:00.003-07:002020-06-24T06:44:59.589-07:00Beside Still Waters<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Beside Still Waters<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXFeMN1hpCBtlKJLCBFauF3lEDOLp7wfBWVgq_dJTPljSajsSE3TSjCV4kNO7NwPPPvS4EpWCbpMO1F__JL-WB4qo_rSj5vc8FYrFe8po9WBVYllJc09m_vHrP_s-KJ97gCO1Iwkh74ZqL/s1600/helping-animals-fires-natural-disasters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="310" data-original-width="1024" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXFeMN1hpCBtlKJLCBFauF3lEDOLp7wfBWVgq_dJTPljSajsSE3TSjCV4kNO7NwPPPvS4EpWCbpMO1F__JL-WB4qo_rSj5vc8FYrFe8po9WBVYllJc09m_vHrP_s-KJ97gCO1Iwkh74ZqL/s400/helping-animals-fires-natural-disasters.jpg" width="400" /></a>When land animals are in danger, or sick, they often head for still water, a pond or creek. When fire raged through our canyon a few years ago, the deer and mice and everything in between headed down to the safe wet creek. When wounded, animals also seek safety and comfort in a quiet wet place. Animal bones, even prehistoric ones, are often found along the shore of a lake. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Why? Safety and healing. For safety, they submerge during a fire. If sick or lame, they hide in riparian bushes away from predators. For healing, they use the mud to soothe a wound. The water can quench the painful thirst of illness. The shoreline undergrowth offers precious time in a shelter to heal. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7cMv2LpTClHeipo5sIHnOk0L_hSEYYPmsABYGL8QGGNJznWYzs6S-EzQdyZbpROtcZfXB9q-ixSjH588_Ih_X7Zp2Ga9q1M85-3gaBVEuCmUwtChFte4Dtk1EUgk7LCEZ-2LrRjNmO6Rq/s1600/Pond_in_Florida.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7cMv2LpTClHeipo5sIHnOk0L_hSEYYPmsABYGL8QGGNJznWYzs6S-EzQdyZbpROtcZfXB9q-ixSjH588_Ih_X7Zp2Ga9q1M85-3gaBVEuCmUwtChFte4Dtk1EUgk7LCEZ-2LrRjNmO6Rq/s320/Pond_in_Florida.jpg" width="320" /></a>When I was ten I found in our woods in western New Jersey a big jumble of loose bones in a small wet swampy pool. I gathered them up in my jacket, convinced I had found a dinosaur, and proudly brought them home. My mother gently and calmly broke it to me that it was a deer skeleton, and she got right down on the ground to help me identify pelvis, skull, vertebrae, ribs, all soaked and muddy. Six years later in high school biology I strung together all those bones with tennis racket string for a complete skeleton. <o:p></o:p></div>
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My deer had died near water. She taught me about bones, and about life and death. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In this strange isolation time we all long for safety and healing, for still water. A safe place to quench thirst, to rest and heal. I watch for and I walk with the One who “leads me beside still waters,” to a place that “restores my soul.” In life and death, may we all find such a safe, healing, thirst-quenching place. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In January and February I wrote here and on Facebook about still water, living water and deep water – go back and look! Every Wednesday I write a “wet” devotional about how we find God in fresh and salt water, and how God calls us to restore and preserve the wet parts of our planet. Stay wet and still, my friends.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-91716976465938888332020-06-17T06:12:00.000-07:002020-06-17T06:12:03.822-07:00Withstand, Stand With<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Withstand, Stand With<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgkeurVBP9lZK9hl6EY6jDqRwkClBayLyXziLP3voioJD07UVKHv1kLFg18rodKr1-n_NS3x0ug_WOkCIquAn-QeQWRIlDBF5WarLgLVMmZbffn6vp9oynfbjkbZVOy2L3QiI2vaSoEQ3/s1600/resilience8973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGgkeurVBP9lZK9hl6EY6jDqRwkClBayLyXziLP3voioJD07UVKHv1kLFg18rodKr1-n_NS3x0ug_WOkCIquAn-QeQWRIlDBF5WarLgLVMmZbffn6vp9oynfbjkbZVOy2L3QiI2vaSoEQ3/s400/resilience8973.JPG" width="400" /></a>What do you see in this photo, shot by a legendary Time/Life photographer? Titled “Resilience,” it is in the widely distributed Carmel Magazine, a free gab/glam mag, on newsstands all over the Central Coast this summer<o:p></o:p></div>
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There’s Big Sur’s iconic Whale Peak in the distance on the dramatic Pacific coast. And a sort of Renaissance collection of folks: an adoring couple, pledging their love. Their sick friends and attendants, witnesses/devotees.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And then me, the wedding officiant, in the middle, masked and blowing in the wind. Wearing my rainbow stole to affirm God’s love for everyone. And trying not to get poison oak, amidst which we are all standing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My son’s friend, a great photographic assistant, asked me to “play” this role, just show up for the planned shoot in the early days of lockdown. They hoped to convince Carmel Mag and other media outlets to use it to promote the idea of “Resilience.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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The caption is very Carmel-esque: “The great people of Carmel and our country are as resilient as this gorgeous coast. This image pays homage to our strength, courage, diversity and love for each other as we work to defeat this deadly pandemic.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Yes, love is “resilient,” meaning, “withstands, recovers from difficulty.” So is the coast. We all suffer from hardship, but we withstand, and stand with (at a distance) to affirm love. <o:p></o:p></div>
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These were mostly sweet LA folks up for a nice Carmel weekend, and I had to point out that the place they chose was carpeted with poison oak. I said, “Stop at CVS on the way home and get some Tecnu. I hope your memories of this escapade are good, not scratchy.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Old retired minister that I am, I don’t perform many weddings anymore. But over the past 40 years I have been celebrant for hundreds of loving couples, many on this wild, beautiful landscape, with friends, resilience, and sometimes challenge (wind, poison oak.) A good metaphor for marriage.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My Blue Theology ministry celebrates and blesses all the ways we experience God’s love and power at the ocean and coast side. A wedding is a good opening, and keeps us resilient, withstanding, standing with.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I post these ocean devotions every Wednesday here <o:p></o:p></div>
and on Facebook Be in touch, come and sea!<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-55871258091685406472020-06-10T06:58:00.000-07:002020-06-10T06:58:12.353-07:00Passage, Corridor, Protection<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Passage, <o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Corridor, Protection</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJjcA-tBSijbzod92iCIIsRArhVHvb5XCXKHSqFN0ysRBPIhPIWKMbQruw8Z_4CwxartQX1HndA9VZwIe2iHUkt3OSbLLy04wHsmbJhiWwiAip16u-p8TauL7kKyRiPvaQWIwtPRkd17mD/s1600/Gray_whale_Merrill_Gosho_NOAA2_crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1300" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJjcA-tBSijbzod92iCIIsRArhVHvb5XCXKHSqFN0ysRBPIhPIWKMbQruw8Z_4CwxartQX1HndA9VZwIe2iHUkt3OSbLLy04wHsmbJhiWwiAip16u-p8TauL7kKyRiPvaQWIwtPRkd17mD/s400/Gray_whale_Merrill_Gosho_NOAA2_crop.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">“Let’s make sure mother whales have a wide passage through the ocean so they can give birth safely.” “We want to keep corridors open so whales can get to their feeding grounds.” “That’s what we mean by protection.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">“Passage, corridor, protection.” Scientists shared their research and legislators advocated for their bills this week at the fabulous Capitol Hill Ocean Week Conference, presented every year around World Ocean Day June 8. I attended this conference in DC two years ago- this year it was virtual, on line, much great content and conversations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Check out </span><a href="https://marinesanctuary.org/capitol-hill-ocean-week/"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">https://marinesanctuary.org/capitol-hill-ocean-week/</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">for presentations and docs from scientists, legislators, activists.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmx7hXRelABMJ003q3tFO2rix4Zj2KCzUv4Rz_aRo7pzHm0slMaoGGeDKuGdf5pqxmFM82djb8QT2Z8nofBS77eE1Z-b_cg4SUW_w_nKyQaJX7gkXMMziBCSJMPu-j_aeQPH8rU6toIuOU/s1600/Screenshot+2020-06-09+11.30.58.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1440" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmx7hXRelABMJ003q3tFO2rix4Zj2KCzUv4Rz_aRo7pzHm0slMaoGGeDKuGdf5pqxmFM82djb8QT2Z8nofBS77eE1Z-b_cg4SUW_w_nKyQaJX7gkXMMziBCSJMPu-j_aeQPH8rU6toIuOU/s400/Screenshot+2020-06-09+11.30.58.png" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Another timely quote from the session on protection, “Sometimes we must love things from a distance.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I ponder and pray these days about safety, distance, protection. I stay away from others in case I might infect them. But I long for touch. We all want safety and we all want connection. Every mammal, land and sea, needs safe open corridors and passages. Can every living being find food and a place to give birth?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">George Floyd, Breonna Taylor,<span style="background: white; color: #333333;"> </span></span><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Ahmaud Arbery</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">and so many others – no safe passage, danger all around. Let them breathe. Give them room. Don’t kill them.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-4511572477690777522020-06-05T11:07:00.002-07:002020-06-05T11:08:33.950-07:00Advice From a Redwood<div role="banner" style="background-color: #f0f2f5; color: #1c1e21; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
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I live in a redwood house in a redwood coastal canyon, but the wisest thing I ever learned about these massive ancient trees was from a suicide prevention counselor.</div>
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Emulate the redwoods, the counselor told a group of us ministers. To stay standing, redwoods extend their roots straight out, 80 ft from their base, seeking not just precious water but mutual support – they literally grab onto each other when the storms come. </div>
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Buddhist botanist Stephanie Kaza calls redwoods “the yogis of the forest,” silent and wise and deep. Their longevity comes in part from their very thick bark, full of resin that resists fire and prevents decay from insects.</div>
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John Steinbeck said about redwood trees, “The redwoods, once seen, leave a mark or create a vision that stays with you always….. From them comes silence and awe. It's not only their unbelievable stature, nor the color which seems to shift and vary under your eyes, no, they are not like any trees we know, they are ambassadors from another time." </div>
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Actually they are from another time, the Jurassic period to be exact. Stephen Spielberg was correct in placing T.Rex among the redwoods; the dinosaurs may be long gone, but the sequoia still stands tall. Once populous on most continents, their range shrank as the world warmed, now only on the California coast and Sierra foothills. </div>
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Activist Julia Butterfly Hill sat atop a 180 ft. redwood she called Luna for 738 days in the late 90’s to prevent the Pacific Lumber Company from felling it, and to draw attention to the plight of these rare and wise trees. She was somewhat successful – Luna still stands and lumber companies have made at least a public relations commitment to sustainable forestry practices.</div>
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Californians realized early the special beauty of redwood groves and have set apart some magnificent ones; I recommend Big Basin State Park in the Santa Cruz Mountains, the first of our state parks, 1902, and Muir Woods, just 12 miles north of San Francisco, a magical spot. </div>
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I stopped at Muir Woods once on my way to a church meeting I was dreading and got some good advice. I have this card, “Advice from a Tree” hanging in my bedroom:</div>
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Advice From a Tree</div>
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Dear Friend</div>
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Stand Tall and Proud</div>
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Sink your roots deeply into the Earth</div>
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Reflect the light of your true nature</div>
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Think long term</div>
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Go out on a limb</div>
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Remember your place among all living beings</div>
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Embrace with joy the changing seasons</div>
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For each yields its own abundance</div>
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The energy and Birth of Spring</div>
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The growth and Contentment of Summer</div>
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The wisdom to let go like leaves in the Fall</div>
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The Rest and Quiet renewal of Winter</div>
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Feel the wind and the sun</div>
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And delight in their presence</div>
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Look up at the moon that shines down upon you</div>
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And the mystery of the stars at night</div>
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Seek nourishment from the good things of life</div>
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Simple pleasures</div>
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Earth, fresh air, light</div>
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Be content with your natural beauty</div>
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Drink plenty of water</div>
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Let your limbs sway and dance in the breezes</div>
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Be flexible</div>
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Remember your roots</div>
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Enjoy the view!</div>
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(Ilan Shamir) </div>
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I recently read the fabulous novel Overstory, in which redwood trees play a staring, tragic, powerful role. Say thank you to a redwood today, and stand tall.</div>
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I post these Blue Theology devotionals every Wednesday here and on Facebook - be in touch!</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-23097935456267296482020-05-27T06:57:00.002-07:002020-05-27T06:57:48.781-07:00Hands On/Home Made<div class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Hands On/Home Made<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mzCZI-FHnRZMm7_xfyHYNZF44sR6_dI-823-7bknyYD4AmPN7UCCODD0F5kAxfMoAwU78gSA2dcldcGZD98F37C5uyNjnqOmLgXmlbUomNuO-XxfQ1g8JCCCAAhEIFvEhxo00linHJDx/s1600/homemadetidepool.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mzCZI-FHnRZMm7_xfyHYNZF44sR6_dI-823-7bknyYD4AmPN7UCCODD0F5kAxfMoAwU78gSA2dcldcGZD98F37C5uyNjnqOmLgXmlbUomNuO-XxfQ1g8JCCCAAhEIFvEhxo00linHJDx/s400/homemadetidepool.JPG" width="400" /></a>I went back to kindergarten this week and learned how to make an ocean tide pool to have right here in my own home.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The Monterey Bay Aquarium building is closed to visitors. But like churches, we are much more than a building. Just because folks can’t visit the Aquarium or a church building doesn’t mean they/we are not actively doing our mission - be a faith community, inspire conservation of the ocean. You don’t need a building to do that, just teachers and learners, community and faith, imagination and play dough. And technology.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The Aquarium is making all their educational curriculum available free to the public. www.montereybayaquarium.thinkific.com. Or just go to www.montereybayaquarium.org and click on “For Educators.” (Actually all the fab ed resources have always been available free, just now promoted more for learners at home. Lots of other good stuff on the website also.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Because I am an overachiever I started with the sixth grade curriculum: How to Be a Scientist. I got through “investigate,” “observe,” “collect data,” “communicate.” But I was impatient for something to do hands on. So I tried kindergarten, Tidepool Animals. Not just how to observe what lives in the tide pool. But actually make your own tide pool, in your own quarantined house.<o:p></o:p></div>
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A blue towel or some other blue fabric/paper for water/waves. Drape it over something elevated to show how waves move from high to low. Paper bags crunched up for rocks. Then add in the hermit crab, anemone, sea star you already made. Oh, I skipped that lesson – can you tell I am an impatient learner? Go back, yes, easy, just need egg carton, play dough, sticks, bread tie – hermit crab!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Hands on is good education. Bringing it all into our own homes makes it real.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I recommend these projects for faith communities also - box projects of our love of God and neighbor, ie love of creation. I adore those good wise texts, how to investigate, observe, communicate. But maybe because I am stuck at home without weekly visits to the coast or Aquarium, I want hands on, action, to make a real model of a real tide pool. <o:p></o:p></div>
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What would be my hands-on model of God? It might very well look something like this habitat - funky, blue, moving, beautiful, hand-made and abundant with creatures. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And God looked at all she had created, and called it very good.</div>
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I post these ocean devotions every Wednesday here and on Facebook.</div>
<o:p></o:p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-89921884112684130642020-05-20T07:09:00.000-07:002020-05-20T07:09:13.865-07:00Poetic Flow<div class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt;">Poetic Flow<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZhWWNrVI8ITjs_WErO7OItlYaUJ6uojfbK8CEwc05jB3N1iuYH_jo2usxOtclP4QzWP1DF71GyHc2ff88IN8V2YgbE25P7LuS1wGWmVEcpPatdyaUZImkDA1ObpByAsnG6_wpzhwkLv0Q/s1600/flow+image.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZhWWNrVI8ITjs_WErO7OItlYaUJ6uojfbK8CEwc05jB3N1iuYH_jo2usxOtclP4QzWP1DF71GyHc2ff88IN8V2YgbE25P7LuS1wGWmVEcpPatdyaUZImkDA1ObpByAsnG6_wpzhwkLv0Q/s400/flow+image.jpeg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt;">“Go with the flow.” Good advice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt;">But these days I am feeling more stuck and dammed than moving and fluid. (Dammed, not damned. We are all blessed children of God.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt;">A moving stream, a rising tide – they flow. Flowing, we accept, receive. And often in flow we are fed – water flow brings all wet critters a precious gift - dinner. Monterey Bay has two high tides and two lows every day – dinner served often and richly. To be fluid and flowing is to be fed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt;">Meditating helps, with an image of flowing water, ocean motion. Maybe I can ride out this storm of uncertainty and fear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt;">Prayer and walking are other fluid actions - they help burst that dam of fear and powerlessness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt;">I am also reading poetry, taking time to seek the gentle rhythms of verse, another slow, wet, moving practice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCDlWy2bmAExZZnAVXJ29YIdw42uh1HYG4Asoi8N6_N4s6axOHGNPziC4lY5xjyaTQaWzNys0X_PTFIvapL-B9g1rkU0laMQhlhL57oBuYLKm8n95ZhjXbXqgFa1_JkT6_wnWCBEAS3Kb/s1600/Flow_copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1214" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCDlWy2bmAExZZnAVXJ29YIdw42uh1HYG4Asoi8N6_N4s6axOHGNPziC4lY5xjyaTQaWzNys0X_PTFIvapL-B9g1rkU0laMQhlhL57oBuYLKm8n95ZhjXbXqgFa1_JkT6_wnWCBEAS3Kb/s400/Flow_copy.jpg" width="395" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt;">I wondered, “Are there poems about flow?” Look at what I found - this poem “Flow” written on a napkin at a bar. Poet Bob Makela collected “Barstool Poems” after a lonely night at a San Francisco bar. </span><span style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt; letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">He and his roommate were having trouble working up the courage to speak to women.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt; letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">“We were a couple of wimpy guys who had no guts to get up and talk to the women around us,” Makela says. “So I took a pen and a cocktail napkin, jotted down the title to a poem, slid my friend the napkin and said, ‘Write a poem to fit that title.’”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d3d3d; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt; letter-spacing: 0.05pt;">Soon their creative juices were flowing. The pair was pleasantly surprised by the outcome. “We met all the women in the bar that we had wanted to meet, but didn’t have the guts to get up and talk to,” Makela says. He has published several volumes of Barstool Poetry and created a more creative, fluid way to make connections, via poetry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt;">Poems do lubricate, lighten, loosen. Pick a title - Flow, Tide, Wave. Let the rhythmic waters wash over and though you, lubricate you. You might make some new friends. You will certainly be un-dammed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16pt;">I post these ocean devotions every Wednesday here and on Facebook.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-10573388276651749402020-05-13T07:00:00.000-07:002020-05-13T07:00:08.628-07:00What Happens When Humans Are Gone?<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">What Happens When Humans Are Gone?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5POHEZEhIzRidnZBYvHPcXz1V_yECQPi2RZVwo0dupZHrh2QAMaGB8UmXNszzFIkiQdtpcy11XYgQbZpHbN9OCpsf8gLDNSr7c8tEk_l82NvW3ImJkSwzzEImKlYFnHNhw5hK3QlfTCHL/s1600/cnidariansnightoa.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="402" data-original-width="594" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5POHEZEhIzRidnZBYvHPcXz1V_yECQPi2RZVwo0dupZHrh2QAMaGB8UmXNszzFIkiQdtpcy11XYgQbZpHbN9OCpsf8gLDNSr7c8tEk_l82NvW3ImJkSwzzEImKlYFnHNhw5hK3QlfTCHL/s400/cnidariansnightoa.jpeg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">“Can the fish in that tank see us people?” is a common question at the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Answer – no. Birds and mammals – yes. But even they seem to ignore the visitors. They do care about the staff, at lunchtime, otherwise, pretty self-sufficient.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">It’s a good humbling reminder - animals in the wild get along fine without us, probably better. Alan Weisman’s fascinating book, The World Without Us, tells how quickly so-called nature would take over if all humans disappeared. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">We call sea otters a “keystone species” – if they disappear, their whole habitat crashes. The kelp forests would be gone, because otters eat the animals that eat the kelp. 100 years ago when we hunted otters to the brink of extinction there wasn’t much of a kelp forest. The otters’ slow return also revived the kelp.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Are we humans a keystone species – if we were gone, would the habitat crash? No, it might very well thrive. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Related question: Now that the Aquarium is empty of the usual thousands of daily human visitors, do the animals notice, are they acting any differently? The staff is still there, feeding and keeping them healthy. Otherwise, I doubt the animals notice much else different. Maybe that it’s quieter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">And in outdoor waters, lakes and river and ocean, do those wild wet critters notice that something has changed in the past two months?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">We know the air is cleaner, the world is quieter. Animals must notice this. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVvImbhnKBKPgznh46dc4B33qLUvkac40bif3I4448C41WtCFzMm-5NUfP4Q__fSSiK0Lb53dtqCMYSqBBFOAFK9RAWYcCDMdbNgHd9z2Fhu_gJDTcD93mYtc3XOOyOAR6pkemmPCBLKm/s1600/tumblr_bfbb2a9038417136db04cd77aafcda8c_63b62fec_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVvImbhnKBKPgznh46dc4B33qLUvkac40bif3I4448C41WtCFzMm-5NUfP4Q__fSSiK0Lb53dtqCMYSqBBFOAFK9RAWYcCDMdbNgHd9z2Fhu_gJDTcD93mYtc3XOOyOAR6pkemmPCBLKm/s400/tumblr_bfbb2a9038417136db04cd77aafcda8c_63b62fec_1280.jpg" width="400" /></a>Normally the birds in the Aviary very obediently stay on the dune side of their exhibit during the day, no glass. But I sometimes imagine they hop or fly into the public space at night. Maybe they even have a party to celebrate we are not in the way. Fabulous marine scientist and artist Ray Troll painted this mural “Jelly’s Night Out” for a MBA jellyfish exhibit some years ago – now those are some party animals! (www.trollart.com)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">And the Aquarium shared this unusual pic on their Tumblr acct of all five exhibit otters in the tank at once – usually only three or four. “<span style="color: #444444;">The girls say hello from the otter side. All five of our resident rescues are on exhibit right now, which means the rascality levels are at maximum! Thanks to awesome aquarist Jessica for this pic of everyone’s favorite feisty five.” (</span></span><a href="https://www.montereybayaquarium.org/about-us/follow-us-on-social-media"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">https://www.montereybayaquarium.org/about-us/follow-us-on-social-media</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> for fab pics, talks, behind the scenes stuff.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Inside or out, then, this crazy time has even changed life </span></div>
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for animals. Mostly for the better. It sure looks like they’re having more fun. I wish I were.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I post these Blue Theology ocean devotionals every Wednesday, here and on Facebook.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-43362995247619829982020-05-06T06:44:00.004-07:002020-05-06T06:44:53.910-07:00Happy Ocean Mother Day<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Happy Ocean Mother Day<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Look, I brought my mother to church today,” I said a year ago on Mother’s Day at Skyland Community Church UCC as I held up this beautiful blue bowl that Anne Swallow Gillis gave me long ago, filled with saltwater and seashells. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Being a Blue Ocean preacher I could not resist linking Mother’s Day with the ocean. The rich dark sea is mother of us all – she birthed all life billions of years ago and continues to ferment and foment new life. And every human mammal spent nine months in the salty fertile ocean inside our mother’s womb.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtJQmipin_-UveWoIXoTELxWGuYq5EcRYLU5kfJ-B2eyEmgpjIfkSSr2SArLje9Pxg_TqIZm65DHaiRqgWfm26ibK7H6hA063wm_0Jp65UsKiamkxsxvtGAceBMTJi-NvXW8_gMUgEBld/s1600/skylandstoles_2307.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1066" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtJQmipin_-UveWoIXoTELxWGuYq5EcRYLU5kfJ-B2eyEmgpjIfkSSr2SArLje9Pxg_TqIZm65DHaiRqgWfm26ibK7H6hA063wm_0Jp65UsKiamkxsxvtGAceBMTJi-NvXW8_gMUgEBld/s400/skylandstoles_2307.jpg" width="266" /></a>This fabulous banner over the altar looks like that first wet morning breaking in the Genesis story, the Spirit “hovering over the deep and sweeping over the face of the waters.” I think God just said, “Let there be Light, Morning has Broken! “ (I know, it looks like an angel, I haven’t spoken with the banner’s creator, but to me it’s the Holy Spirit straight from her hovering and sweeping over all that blue and now she’s bursting with the light.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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I decorated the altar with the bowl and with my four Blue Theology stoles, (click the pic to see the whole altar) and told the stories of the three dear wise talented mothers who created them– Sandy Johnson (orcas on the right and ocean diversity, second from left) whose “Woman of the Cloth” makes fabulous stoles, Patricia Wood, who gave me the sweet light silky one on the left, and Sue Lawson who made the sea star stole for me last year when I led a Blue Theology Retreat at our church in La Selva Beach.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We shared in the sermon time how our own mothers have been like the ocean, not only creative, nurturing, uplifting, but also sometimes restive, deep, even destructive. There is power in mothering.<o:p></o:p></div>
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One theory about the origin of stoles that pastors wear (besides being like a yoke or like the towel an athlete wears around their neck) is that it is like the soft cloth that a mother (or father) wears all the time on their shoulder when holding a little baby, to comfort and to absorb some “fluids.” Yes, stoles too can get wet. I call my stoles my mother clothes, and my blue ocean stoles are my most precious.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Thanks, Moms.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I post these ocean devotionals every Wednesday here and on Facebook. Obviously this post is a repeat from last May, when we could still worship together inside. Mercifully we are still able to walk and worship outside beside Mother Ocean, and thank her for air, climate, bounty and beauty.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-76866533462384310242020-04-29T07:00:00.000-07:002020-04-29T07:00:09.063-07:00Resilience and Resistance<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Resilience and Resistance<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREJM_ywNUBXsntEGkFm8NoLKbVaFSy7tRXrkApyZhlBgrg1H66PfReSNwgtpfuKMCcMVTz0VdGp2wYw4Fb3xQG7TpTj4XjFIw8YRTuhFx6re8R_xGiuFrZjaheYfnks74X-L4znrgODZG/s1600/ochrestarsSIL_051107_4122_thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="333" data-original-width="500" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREJM_ywNUBXsntEGkFm8NoLKbVaFSy7tRXrkApyZhlBgrg1H66PfReSNwgtpfuKMCcMVTz0VdGp2wYw4Fb3xQG7TpTj4XjFIw8YRTuhFx6re8R_xGiuFrZjaheYfnks74X-L4znrgODZG/s400/ochrestarsSIL_051107_4122_thumb.jpg" width="400" /></a>Can these cute ochre sea stars teach us something about how to resist disaster? Can their recent return after near extinction give us hope in the face of our own disasters? When all around us seems to be falling apart (name your daily despair – political, environmental, medical, personal) can the gospel of sea stars help us be resilient? God, I hope so.<o:p></o:p></div>
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(I first posted this piece in June of 2018, with no inkling of our current disaster. Rereading it this week I found some comfort and hope in the resistance and resilience of sea stars.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Back then a deadly virus was sweeping the ocean, and the seastars were already weak and stressed from climate change. 80% died. But moms and dads to the rescue! With a “reproductive frenzy,” in one generation, their babies have a new resilience, the ability to resist. Read on for a story of hope…..)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Indulge me in some metaphor or projection or identification with my beloved sea stars. From human-related near extinction these ochre stars have rebounded in one generation. Might their astral light shine on our darkness and lend us their aid?<o:p></o:p></div>
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The ochre star’s coastal ocean home, from Alaska to Baja, grows daily warmer and more acidic (thanks to all our fossil fuel use), to the extent that 5 years ago scientists starting noticing what they later named “sea star wasting disease,” overnight disintegration and massive die-offs of this abundant keystone species. Researchers identified the cause, a virus, which the sea stars could normally resist, but they were so stressed from the changes in ocean temperature and chemistry they could not fight back.<o:p></o:p></div>
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With sea stars virtually gone from the intertidal, urchins and mussels and snails, the animals that sea stars eat, quickly took over, hogging previously diverse habitats, and clearcutting their own favorite food, the kelp, setting off a chain of massive habitat disruption. Was this the end?<o:p></o:p></div>
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No! Ochre star moms and dads did an amazing thing. In a “reproductive frenzy” they spawned a whole new generation of sea stars, much more abundant than any seen in years, stronger and able to resist this deadly disease. Profs at UC Merced marveled at this dramatic example of microevolution. The 20% of parents who had survived had a dormant but strong disease-resistant gene, which they passed on. In one generation, the ochre star’s genetic code changed, and is now resistant to the disease. We see natural selection before our very eyes, a hope story in the midst of so much doom and gloom.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Marine scientist Elin Kelsey kept hearing her colleagues say “we’re tired of writing obituaries,” charting the inevitable death of the ocean. So she started a twitter account, #oceanoptimism, to gather stories of ocean resilience and recovery. She hoped for a few responses; they got two million stories in the first month. Kelsey reminds us that fear shuts us down, recklessly speeds us up and hampers our creativity. Telling hope stories doesn’t mean we don’t keep working for change, nor imply that we are overly idealistic. Hope stories make us even more active, more creative, more resilient.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So maybe our one small sea star hope story can teach us something. God says to Job, “Listen to the animals and they will teach you.” Find the resistant spirit (gene) within you, it’s there, maybe dormant, but it’s there. I find myself identifying with the old sea stars, those on the brink, what can they do in face of disaster? We are few, and death seems all around us, but we can find the resistance within us, and then go into reproductive mode. (Not literally in my case!) The few resistant parents must spawn a huge resilient and resistant next generation. Generate new ideas, pass them on the others, enlist youth, get that resistant spirit into the future. Don’t let it die. <o:p></o:p></div>
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One of the UC Merced scientist said, “The ochre sea star is perhaps a species with greater resilience than many. With projected climate swings expected to be more extreme, the ochre sea star’s resilience is perhaps a small, distant bright light on a pretty stormy sea.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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Like the sea star, we can hold fast (to that which is good), shine a light in the dark, and respond to crises all around us with a massive mobilization. Of new life. And of hope. Resist.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I write these “Blue Theology Tide-ings” devotionals on ocean stewardship and spirituality every Wednesday here and on Facebook. NOAA photo by Steve Lonhart.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-76700536488144349192020-04-22T06:52:00.003-07:002020-04-22T06:52:47.734-07:00Plant an Ocean Tree!<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Plant an Ocean Tree!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnKpWomuEy-afpdEa7PHYjA82N4MzrtqvQlPluYM4Em2SjjxRsHkTTfhf3Dti9-Go0QGyvrYOaXZuV3F6cWGM33LFSgACcL30Y5ty6jHzdS8aXy_kZoDAcv6QCq0C9pFZk-U7aYnCUxChX/s1600/mangrove.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="174" data-original-width="289" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnKpWomuEy-afpdEa7PHYjA82N4MzrtqvQlPluYM4Em2SjjxRsHkTTfhf3Dti9-Go0QGyvrYOaXZuV3F6cWGM33LFSgACcL30Y5ty6jHzdS8aXy_kZoDAcv6QCq0C9pFZk-U7aYnCUxChX/s400/mangrove.jpeg" width="400" /></a>Happy Earth Day, April 22! Plant an ocean tree! Like a mangrove. <a href="http://www.mangroveactionproject.org/" style="color: #954f72;">www.mangroveactionproject.org</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
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For this 50<sup>th</sup> anniversary of Earth Day many faith groups, including my beloved United Church of Christ, proclaim “Plant a Tree This Month!” Check out <a href="http://www.ucc.org/plantatree" style="color: #954f72;">www.ucc.org/plantatree</a> for fabulous options – plant your own, send $1 to the Arbor Day Foundation for each tree you want them to plant in a national park, $12 to the Organization for African Churches to plant trees in Kenya or Zambia, $20 for olive trees in Palestine. Of course I sent off money to plant trees in all these places.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But I’m a Blue Theologian, lover of the ocean’s power and promise, prophet of its peril. On this Earth Day I also want to support the wet parts of Planet Earth. What is the equivalent “plant a tree” action I can take in the ocean? <o:p></o:p></div>
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(Always a key question – I understand the need, but what can I DO? Planting trees seems easy, direct, with obvious impact – more O2 for us to breathe, erosion control, food, and of course beauty. )<o:p></o:p></div>
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Trees live in the ocean too! Well, in coastal waters, at the rich transition meeting of land and sea. </div>
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A great example is the mangrove tree, a tropical tree which I first learned about at the Monterey Bay Aquarium (sadly closed now, but fish and other living things are being well cared for and fed.) The “Viva Baja!” exhibit about Mexico features a split view, wet and dry, of a mangrove tree, with information about its promise and peril.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Mangroves grow right in the water, and are called the “roots of the sea,” providing shelter and nurseries for varied ocean life (fish, shrimp, birds.) Their strong roots are anchors for the coastline, slowing down destructive waves and storms, saving lives and property. </div>
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But over 20% of mangrove trees have been cut down worldwide, often cleared for coastal tourist resorts. Recovery efforts after the deadly Asian tsunami included massive replanting of mangrove and other coastal trees that had been cut down before the disaster, or torn up by the waves, for the sake of future protection. Rising sea levels also threaten to drown these wet and dry trees. Mangroves also absorb our excessive carbon, sequestering more carbon proportionally than any other forest, five times more than rainforests.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Mangroves – shelter for babies, shelter from storms, shelter from climate change. Nurseries and anchors. But threatened by greedy developers and weather disasters fueled by climate change. These coastal “liminal” places are beautiful and tender and need protection. <a href="http://www.mangroveactionproject.org/" style="color: #954f72;">www.mangroveactionproject.org</a> is one group that restores mangroves.<o:p></o:p></div>
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If you want to stay in the US for tree planting, there are similar efforts to restore the coastal forests of Louisiana, likewise cut down for tourism or agriculture. The absence of these anchors and seawalls is deadly in storms like Katrina. Coalition to Restore Coastal Louisiana. <a href="https://www.crcl.org/habitat-restoration" style="color: #954f72;">https://www.crcl.org/habitat-restoration</a><o:p></o:p></div>
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Plant a coastal tree, an ocean tree, through these and many other good organizations. And the trees of the field (and of the ocean,) will clap their hands, as we go out with joy! (Isaiah 55)<o:p></o:p></div>
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I post these ocean devotionals, Blue Theology “Tideings” every Wednesday here and on Facebook.. <o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-90104012063612371042020-04-15T07:28:00.001-07:002020-04-15T07:28:26.579-07:00Corona Virus at Sea?<div class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Corona Virus at Sea?<o:p></o:p></div>
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But is there corona virus at sea? <o:p></o:p></div>
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I am a Blue Theologian - my ministry is to honor and advocate for the ocean’s power and promise and peril. So I wondered:<o:p></o:p></div>
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-Do viruses in general live in the ocean as well as land, in fish bodies as well as our bodies?<o:p></o:p></div>
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-Does this corona virus stop at the water’s edge? <o:p></o:p></div>
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-Is there a theology of viruses?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Some (very preliminary) Blue Theology wonderings - please respond, correct, add. (I am not a scientist, I’m a pastor.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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-Yes, there are viruses in the ocean. In fact, they are the most common living thing in the ocean. 200,000 different kinds. So tiny that in one spoonful of seawater there are over 20 million individual viruses. One article I read began, “Swallow a mouthful of sea water and you’ve swallowed more viruses than the population of North America.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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-Then why aren’t they the ONLY living thing in the ocean? Because of sponges! Put a sponge in a tank of sea water and in 24 hours they filter feed/have for dinner 98% of the millions of viruses, their main food source. Sponges are plentiful and live in all ocean habitats. Thank you, sponges. Would that we had a land sponge for this virus. (Thanks Jim Covel of the Monterey Bay Aquarium for info about sponges and viruses.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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-Marine viruses infect ocean critters just the way land viruses infect us terrestrials. That’s what they do, that’s what they live for, to move in and poison. (The word virus comes from the Latin word for snake venom.) Whales and fish and plankton can get sick and can die from viruses. And yes, there are even some forms of the corona virus at sea, found in sick whales and dolphins. But Covid 19, this particular corona virus, is only on land.<o:p></o:p></div>
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-Sometimes marine viruses do “good” deeds. So many and so powerful, they keep certain other populations in check, like deadly marine bacteria. Their actions move chemicals around the marine ecosystem, like nitrogen, encouraging “nutrient turnover.” They even have a role in reducing climate change. Of all the CO2 we land mammals create from our fossil fuels, a full half of it ends up “sequestered” in the seabed, thanks to the action of viruses. (It’s complicated – a virus-infected plankton will “burst” (I’m quoting scientists here!) and drop their loads of carbon into the ocean floor, which means less carbon in the atmosphere – trust me.) Thank you, viruses.<o:p></o:p></div>
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-Tragically there is one huge place where the corona virus is extremely active at sea - on cruise ships, military ships, all marine traffic. Because such ships are contained, the virus’ maritime spread has been rapid and deadly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Is there a Blue Theology of viruses? What do viruses and this pandemic teach us about God’s creation on land and sea?<o:p></o:p></div>
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-God’s creation is diverse and complex. We now speak of food webs, interconnectedness, cycles, rather than food chains, simple linear cause and effect. There is life and death throughout the web. As a person of faith I try to choose life, but we know, especially in this Eastertide, that life and death move in a complex dance.<o:p></o:p></div>
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-All are part of God’s creation. There are no “good” organisms or life forms and “bad” ones. The viruses are being viruses. Like every living thing, they want to find dinner, not be someone else’s dinner, reproduce. Viruses are really good at all three. Evil as they seem, they are just being who they are. <o:p></o:p></div>
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-Lamentation. To weep is a completely faithful response to the current virus deaths of hundreds of thousands of land mammals. When viruses kill whales and dolphins and seals, we also weep. “How long, O Lord?” is a faithful prayer. Life and death happen, but this hurts, I hate this!!<o:p></o:p></div>
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-Healing. To be faithful is to want to heal, make whole. Who are our heroes, who is essential? The healers and helpers. Salvation means to make whole. We mourn because death seems to have the upper hand and healers themselves are dying.<o:p></o:p></div>
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-Justice and mercy. When you do it to the least of these, you do it to me, says Jesus. The poor suffer more from all viruses, not just this one. In our cities, in developing countries, the pandemic is much more deadly, the resources much less available. One of many examples: on the hundred or so cruise ships idle now in US ports, 90,000 crew members wait in tight quarters, employees of American owned companies flying under foreign flags, their crews not protected or paid according to US laws. That is wrong. Throughout scripture God has a “preferential option for the poor,” but the poor still seem to suffer so much. One could also say the ocean is a poor cousin of the land when it comes to protection, spending, international cooperation. When one suffers, we all suffer. God calls us to mercy and to justice.<o:p></o:p></div>
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OK, my heart is breaking for God’s creatures, land and sea.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Photo: marine viruses. I post these ocean devotionals every Wednesday here and on Facebook.<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-30949144971912039422020-04-08T08:37:00.001-07:002020-04-08T08:37:56.554-07:00Jesus' Wet Holy Week<div class="Body" style="border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Jesus’ Wet Holy Week<o:p></o:p></div>
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Jesus gets so wet this Holy Week, on Thursday, Friday and Sunday. Thursday night he plunges his hands in water, spills puddles on the floor and immerses his disciples’ feet, taking on the traditional footwashing role of a servant. Friday from the cross he cries out in desperation, “I thirst!” and gets a sponge of sour wine thrown in his face. And Sunday he surprises those clean footed disciples at the beach, as they dejectedly search for fish. With his help - an abundant wet catch, they share in an Easter fish barbeque.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As a Blue Theologian I give thanks to God for water every day of the year, but this week, Jesus’ last and first, it is his wetness I commemorate. Thursday I may get my feet wet at my own Maundy Thursday foot washing service on the beach. Good Friday I will worship online to hear Jesus’ Seven Last Words, including that so very human cry, “I thirst.” And Easter services, I think we’ll have fish for our special dinner, and eat it coast side.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The world is feeling a bit dry and barren these days – I am praying for some wet resurrection.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Note to my preacher readers – have you ever noticed how much wetter Jesus is in John’s gospel than the other three? Only in John (and not the other three) does Jesus turn the water into wine, only in John does he meet the Samaritan woman at the well and offer her living water, never to thirst again, only in John does he cry from the cross “I thirst,” and only in John does he host a beach barbeque. I tend to think of John as a little serious and abstract, but maybe he was actually a water baby. We do traditionally say that he was an island guy, lived and died on Patmos. Maybe his island days made him a Blue Theologian, celebrating all things wet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Unlike the other gospels’ accounts of how Jesus spent his last night, that he shared a meal with his disciples, John’s has no Last Supper. Instead, his sacramental act of commissioning and sharing with his disciples is about taking on the servant role, welcoming the guest with a bowl of clean water. At various churches I have served we have celebrated Maundy Thursday with this most vulnerable and gentle exchange – kneeling and washing each other’s feet. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I invite you to get wet with Jesus this holy week. Serve others in his name with a quiet moment of simple care. Hear, and answer the cry of those who thirst, for real clean water, and for justice. And invite others to walk and eat with Jesus beside the sea. The catch is always abundant. And wet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I like this picture by John August Swanson because both men and women receive the sacramental washing, and because of the swirly fluid robes they wear. I post these Blue Theology devotionals on ocean stewardship and spirituality every Wednesday here and on Facebook. Check out bluetheology.com for ocean pilgrimages and service trips by Monterey Bay.<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-84670772019326615392020-04-01T07:00:00.000-07:002020-04-01T07:00:03.356-07:00Spring in the Sea<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Spring in the Sea<o:p></o:p></div>
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Spring means the letter S! <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTOqX1sIkQ5D66CrblMTeZbllW2aW7BP9hlMP8nUuPgMTcwBcOD-PDwcvkFavBGPxefHWnvWSi5_KZfU5R9XBKkQ6Sr7UBWA5zqsZDbZ745dBw7maG4D79ySnsF6cACzDTR9QIdNELS9-6/s1600/palo+corona.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTOqX1sIkQ5D66CrblMTeZbllW2aW7BP9hlMP8nUuPgMTcwBcOD-PDwcvkFavBGPxefHWnvWSi5_KZfU5R9XBKkQ6Sr7UBWA5zqsZDbZ745dBw7maG4D79ySnsF6cACzDTR9QIdNELS9-6/s320/palo+corona.JPG" width="240" /></a>Spring has sprung on the Central Coast! With new friends I took an amazing hike through these hillside oaks in the new Palo Corona Park up to Inspiration Pt. overlooking Monterey Bay. So lush, green, light.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Below the ocean surface it’s spring also, likewise lush, green and light. Winter storms “pruned” the kelp beds and canopy, meaning more sunlight shines down deep into the kelp forest now than in any other time of year. <o:p></o:p></div>
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This “scimitar” blade forms in the spring at the very top tip of the 80 ft giant kelp. With no roots, the kelp is fed by upwelled nutrient-rich water, and grows from its tip, forming tiny new blades (leaves) and floats. In this bright spring light the kelp grows more than a foot a day! (Looks sort of like a scimitar sword.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Spring on the land, spring in the sea.<o:p></o:p><br />
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Scimitar blade, like a sword, slicing through the salty sea.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Shoots from seeds, sprouts and surprises.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Season of springing up, spreading, surfacing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Storms severed the dark.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Sunlight streams and succors.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Sanctuaries safeguard – secure parks, set apart National Marine Sanctuary, sustainable settings.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Science shows sense and sensibility.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So far, no Silent Spring (thanks, Rachel Carson.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Sweet smells.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Simply stunning and serene scenes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Stewardship and Spirituality of the Sea – my calling.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Seasons go in sequence – Summer is next!<o:p></o:p></div>
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See, I am doing a new thing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Seasonsinthesea.com – check it out!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Bluetheology.com – come and sea! I post these ocean devotionals every Wednesday here and on Facebook. Kelp photo: NOAA. (I first posted this reflection a year ago when Palo Corona first opened, an old golf course and wild hills resurrected as a regional park. Today I walked in again with an old friend, to get out of our houses and funks, and to see the wildflowers. There is still lots of life out there in the midst of all this death. If you feel safe, come walk with me 6 feet apart and see this new life.)</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-30337300050428239592020-03-25T09:34:00.003-07:002020-03-25T09:34:55.997-07:00Sacred Wet Activism<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Sacred Wet Activism<o:p></o:p></div>
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How did you celebrate World Water Day this past Sunday March 22? Did you wake with a prayer of gratitude for all things wet? As you washed your hands and sang Happy Birthday twice, did you turn off the faucet? Maybe took a shorter shower? Or thought of those millions of folks with no regular safe water?<o:p></o:p></div>
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I am more aware of Earth Day, April 22 than World Water Day March 22. But thank you United Nations for establishing World Water Day in 1993. Good resources and activism, worldwaterday.com. WASH – Water and Sanitation and Hygiene.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And thank you Unitarian Universalist churches, who taught me about World Water Day. And what they call Climate Justice Month, March 22- April 22, Water Day to Earth Day. It’s their version of Lent, a winter/spring time of what they call sacred activism, a month of reflection/penitence/limits/gratitude. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Spring into water and earth care, the UUs say, a time of reveling, reckoning, reconnecting and recommitting to climate justice.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This morning I am sad, distracted, lonely, grateful, stuck, wondering, afraid. I can get out of these feelings by saying thank you water. WASH. Blessed be water and earth.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I post these water reflections every Wednesday here and on Facebook.<o:p></o:p></div>
Be in touch!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711455968862923197.post-55312152672517212162020-03-18T05:56:00.002-07:002020-03-18T05:56:28.175-07:00Lost at Sea<div style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 6pt 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;">Lost at Sea</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicWYQj8As2N-zKwhTtXCRl3aMC_BByLYgMGxOOyQxyyOjlPK_w4sc2tU9weGx6hd2x4TqpgGnODLyCpaAk74qzr5sNb3_Qulg6mdxr2EktnYaA7S555PIz7r0eC1gSNw14vVZNDaDxFxsL/s1600/lifeoatfog.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1365" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicWYQj8As2N-zKwhTtXCRl3aMC_BByLYgMGxOOyQxyyOjlPK_w4sc2tU9weGx6hd2x4TqpgGnODLyCpaAk74qzr5sNb3_Qulg6mdxr2EktnYaA7S555PIz7r0eC1gSNw14vVZNDaDxFxsL/s400/lifeoatfog.png" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;">“Sheltering in place,” sounds so safe and comforting, homebound with a good book, food in the fridge.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;">But life in this COVID-19 world feels more like being lost at sea in a stormy fog. Wet danger is everywhere. We’re not sure where we are, what’s next, or if rescue is coming. And what about the others in this lifeboat?</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;">Because I experience power and possibility in the ocean, as well as metaphors galore, here’s some Blue Theology (ocean spirituality and stewardship) for this pandemic:</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;">-NY Gov. Cuomo on whether we can “flatten the curve of this disease;” “</span><span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="border: none;">I don’t see a curve; I see a wave. And the wave is going to break on the health care system, and I am telling you, it is going to be a tsunami.</span></span><span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="border: none;">”</span></span><span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="border: none;">-<span style="border: none;">The fogbound feeling, for me, and our world<span style="border: none;">, comes<span style="border: none;"> <span style="border: none;">from<span style="border: none;"> this agonizing uncertainty and ever changing news and plans. I first heard the phrase “Fog of War” in the film about Robert McNamara and the Vietnam War (check out his “lessons learned.”) But “fog of war” is a century old military term meaning “uncerta<span style="border: none;">inty or ignorance about one’s own capability and that of one’s adversary. In a fog of war commanders don’t know the real strength and position not only of their foes, but also of their friends.”</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="border: none;">-Friends and foes. As a Christian I try not to divide folk<span style="border: none;">s into friend or foe, we’re all in this together, and all children of God. The Body of Christ has the coronavirus. When one suffers all suffer. </span></span></span><span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="border: none;">-But I am reminded of “lifeboat ethics,” ecologist Garret Hardin’s profound metaphor, from the 1970’s, abou<span style="border: none;">t how to decide who gets what in this overpopulated, finite and highly fractured world. He rejected a previous popular metaphor, “Spaceship Earth,” since it implied one commander and a common destination. No, he said, the rich nations are like a lifeboat<span style="border: none;"> floundering at sea with 50 passengers and room for 10 more<span style="border: none;">. The<span style="border: none;"> many desperate swimmers in the ocean are the poor nations. (I read this then new exciting book in ethics class in seminary.) Who survives? Who chooses? By what criteria?</span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="border: none;">-Well<span style="border: none;">,<span style="border: none;"> we clear<span style="border: none;">ly don’t have a commander who knows where we are going or what to do (or, like captains of ships, or the ship of state, <span style="border: none;">knows<span style="border: none;"> to put the passengers first, to go down with the ship.)</span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="border: none;">-Where am I, <span style="border: none;">are <span style="border: none;">we, in that image? On the boat, in the waves? W<span style="border: none;">e hope, <span style="border: none;">in the way that <span style="border: none;">ships traditionally saved women and children first, that we will try today to take extra precautions so the vulnerable elderly and chronically ill might be safe. But…..</span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWv_gZACLIVbhlY1baaNo0rm0XcS91FYhtNSQH9dexLOnX4Osmat7Py0SreuGvPPPJ2kHJ3AxhL20fo_RCAtL29HAYP9bqNGY4V0KPWAkx33lPd358JViJ8ko6Q7evv13aypBGs9uVQIw6/s1600/moon+jelly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWv_gZACLIVbhlY1baaNo0rm0XcS91FYhtNSQH9dexLOnX4Osmat7Py0SreuGvPPPJ2kHJ3AxhL20fo_RCAtL29HAYP9bqNGY4V0KPWAkx33lPd358JViJ8ko6Q7evv13aypBGs9uVQIw6/s400/moon+jelly.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="border: none;">-I pondered writing a comforting Blue Theology “Tide-ing” post<span style="border: none;"> during this challenging week, something about cool <span style="border: none;">sea creatures. Worried about the future? Check out this fabulous jelly fish. I do commend ocean videos as stress reducers – so many doctors have aquariums in their offices because looking at th<span style="border: none;">em literally lowers our blood pressure. Check out the Monterey Bay Aquarium website; even though closed, they still have <span style="border: none;">their<span style="border: none;"> live cams of penguins, otters, kelp forest, jellies. Also, on their Facebook Page every morning M-F at 8 Pacific Time, the Aqua<span style="border: none;">rium is offering 10 minutes of what they call a “Medit-ocean,” mindful images of ocean calm and beauty.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="border: none;">-<span style="border: none;">I called this post “Lost at Sea.” Which doesn’t just mean literally lost. It also means dead, died at sea. The tsunami will only get larger. What to<span style="border: none;"> do? Build more boats? Hold on to the side of the boat? Pull others into the boat? Who knows where this foggy storm will take us? It’s a <span style="border: none;">big <span style="border: none;">scary ocean out there.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; border: none; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="border: none;">I post these ocean devotionals every Wednesday here and on Facebook.</span></span></div>
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