I used to crew on a sail boat, now a long time ago. I loved the race. The fun of the match. The fun of the win; or the loss. It was just amazing to work on a team that was kind. And sometimes we would run into funny moments. Like the time we ran aground so hard that we got the boat off by healing it with me at the top of the mast.
Watching the America's Cup, that same set of feelings comes up. Yes, higher stakes. Yes, much more money. And yet, when it comes down to boat to boat, the crew, the wind, the water, the tide.... and let the race be on.
Sport within a frame. Just there. Just now.
________, I was so mad when you told me that I would stop doing the work one day. You didn’t even know the work that I was doing and yet you said I would stop. I had barely begun and you were focused on that day when I would no longer do that work. Isn’t it funny that you now do the work I used to do? And I am not made any more. Just woke up this morning and realized that I had been mad at you for so long. And that, in the moment of that knowing, I am not mad any more. And, you were right. And wrong. Wise in that time in a time that I could not see a path. And, so intent on the path that I was walking that to have a voice say that I would step off that path one day… well, I could not hear it then. And now, I smile. For you were right, and wrong. The work never stops. What it looks like to another? Well, that is a different story.
Call to worship. Kneeling down to meditate on the gospel of creation. Weeding out the mistaken plants of this row or that planting area. Giving tithe to the land. The peace.
Struck that there is not an either or an or here. It is both and. Oh, there are the voice of not. It is not really farming, it is not really church... it is just not as it 'should' be. And in the rise of the sun, the setting of that same sun at the end of a day, the growing of plants, the feeding of the soul in shared food, broken bread, turning water, in a brew to beer or wine or even spirits... how is this not the celebration of all creation? It is the moment of this shared faith, built on the careful discipline of daily work, work in the fields of knowing, learning, planting, fostering, and harvest, year in and year out that is the worship of which I tap.
Easy to discourse on discord. To separate in faithless folly or work that is not worship. It would seem to me that all is faith and work and worship. The highest praise. As with great math, great science, great discovery or solution. That too is the highest in faith and work and discipline. There is not a separation. Only in the imposition of belief does this become something other than community, fostering faith and from that, sustaining all creation.
I think a turn in farm church is a good moment this day. And communion with a
Hannah is at a friend's house. Matthew is at a birthday party. Nico is in the kitchen. He is making delightful food. Puttering of a Saturday morning. Clear and just following the recipe from Joy of Cooking. A delight as I tap for the cooking is coming down the hall as fine smells to savor.
At the end, he will clean it up and have a plate to share. Such a gift, this cook in the kitchen. And he found that fun by practicing. Sometimes in ways that were.... well, think of a cloud of flour.... shared even down the hall. The image of just the cloud with his face, screwed up in consternation, .... "I'll take care of it...."
But, not this day. The Cook is in the kitchen and as a master of this craft this day.
Eclectic - With a hint of pepper