I wish all of you could have joined us for the church-wide retreat. I chose the theme Creation Calls and I Must Go because I believe the cosmos is a gift, made and sustained by God. I love and delight in the created world; birds, trees, rocks, sticks, daffodils and turtles bring me joy! I find beauty in the tiniest details of creation. I also believe that the more we learn about the world around us, the deeper our appreciation grows for this good and beautiful world God has entrusted to us.
On Saturday, I invited retreat participants to take part in Choose Your Own Adventure experiences—hiking, birdwatching, learning about native plants in gardening, and more—all drawn from things I love. In a way, this retreat was more than an invitation into creation; it was an invitation into something personal, sharing with you the places, creatures and moments that bring me joy. I hope they might bring you joy, too.
Since not everyone could attend, I want to share with you “A Liturgy for Birdwatching” from Every Moment Holy by Douglas Kaine McKelvey, which I shared with retreat participants! I invite you to enjoy it now and perhaps pray it the next time you hear or see a sparrow, cardinal, nuthatch or tufted titmouse. May each of these creatures remind you that all of creation declares the glory of God.
—Carol
A Liturgy for Bird-Watching
Our Creator,
King of Land, Sea and Sky,
whose vision encompasses galaxies,
but whose compassions extend even
to the common sparrow,
you bid me to consider
your birds and flowers,
rather than to worry about what
I will eat or wear.
You hide food and drink for the jay
and bless him with a mind to find them.
You clothe even the smallest hummingbird
with extravagant iridescence.
You are ever mindful of the ostrich’s eggs,
even when her attention is elsewhere.
Yet the loud voices of my own needs
and desires so often deafen my ability
to perceive your gracious provision and
tender care for me.
So quiet me, O Christ.
Quiet the noise in my head and heart.
As I consider your kindness to your creatures,
let me also find a deeper trust and a deeper rest
in your lovingkindness toward me.
As I ponder the myriad forms, the
varied habits and the peculiar beauties
of the birds you created, O Lord,
shepherd my thoughts
and awaken my perceptions
for all I have disregarded as scenery.
Open my eyes to your glory
displayed in their particularities
and varieties
Open my ears to your joy
expressed in their calls and songs.
Open my heart to your concern
for their common cries and daily dramas.
More than merely looking,
may I actually see.
More than merely hearing,
may I truly perceive.
Let me join you in the joy of noting
the great diversity of
crests, wingspans, beak lengths,
nests, habits, colors, patterns, rituals, voices
and character traits among the species
I observe.
O Christ, use this practice of birdwatching
to refine my vision to more fully see as you see,
to look hard for the unseen and unpraised,
as you so perfectly modeled for us when you
admired the widow’s secret sacrifice in the temple,
or stooped to the cries of suffering outcasts
along the road, or looked up in love at the desperate tax thief
perched in a tree, for I know my own blindness extends well
beyond the birds of my yard.
Let this practice incline my heart
to better see as you see, O Lord,
my neighbors,
my family in Christ,
even my enemies.
As I am daily moved by that wild choir
of praise inadvertently raised
by the bustle of these little beings,
so let my own daily living and interacting
with others also bring you much glory.
Amen.