Notes from my Knapsack 4-28-22
Jeff Gill
The Natural History of Granville
___
In 1789, an Anglican priest serving in a small rural community in the south of England called Selborne published a book.
It had the straightforward title "The Natural History and Antiquities of Selborne," and with the help of his brother in London, Gilbert White offered up what had been in part a series of letters he'd written to fellow naturalists in London and Wales. In fact, some of the letters were never sent as such, but White used letters he had written and sent as a literary device, a framing tool for over a hundred installments in the natural history portion and a few dozen about the antiquities of his district in Hampshire.
Some have said that Gilbert White helped create what we call today "ecology," and his acute awareness of a local environment, along with precise observations, recorded over time, contributed to much of the evolutionary and environmental science that was to follow in the 19th century.
And for subsequent generations, "The Natural History of Selborne" became a benchmark for the growing field of nature writing. The "antiquities" as a second volume often were left off, and "The Natural History" has not gone out of print for over 230 years. Selborne has changed, but not drastically; what has changed is the environment, and Gilbert White started a sequence of both precise and poetic observations which can be added to more modern scientific data for modern climate change evaluations.
If you've lived in a particular place for any amount of time, you have your own "natural history" in the back of your mind. Did the daffodils come up earlier this year than previous blossoms? When did you start seeing sparrows nesting, and is it in the same bush as last year? How many snows after the forsythia? Basically, that's what Gilbert White was up to, just in greater detail.
I've often wished since we moved to the village in 2004 that I'd kept a sort of naturalist's calendar, as did White, to record on paper or in pixels, not just in unreliable memory, when certain trees first budded out, bulbs sprouted, birds returned, frost last struck (in our part of Ohio, Mother's Day in general and May 15 more specifically is considered our frost free date). I'm just not that disciplined.
What the recent news of development on our western borders has made me think (among other things) about is how we have a great deal of natural resource that we're about to lose, how our environment is likely to change as habitat is reduced, and how species will no doubt adapt or move on, increase or decrease. Modern development has been bad for some wetland creatures, for instance, but raccoons thrive (that's why they call them trash pandas, after all.
All of which has me thinking about working on "A Natural History of Granville." We live in a dynamic ecosystem which has already seen great changes in the last two hundred years (look up "The Famous Wolf Hunt" of 1823 in Harrison Township online). Perhaps it's time to start recording our present landscape before it becomes what was.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's kind of into the idea of a parson-naturalist. Tell him how you observe the wildlife in your domestic settings at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
Tuesday, April 19, 2022
Faith Works 4-23-22
Faith Works 4-23-22
Jeff Gill
So what has changed?
___
Alleluia, Christ is risen!
And?
I'll avoid the more caustic "so what?" which implies a more negative angle on the question. Let me deploy the conjunction, the question mark, the punctuation which implies a consequence.
Easter Sunday is when Christians, a majority perspective in our area, celebrate the epochal event of human history as we understand it: Christ is risen!
Mary Magdalene, a hesitant Peter, a frightened John, a doubting Thomas and then many more besides gave witness: Christ is risen! A couple came running back from Emmaus with further confirmation: Jesus is alive, we ate dinner with him! Groups in Jerusalem, a multitude on the Mount of Olives, a gathering by the Sea of Galilee would all agree that their eyes and awareness all conclude: He lives.
And?
There's the post-Easter question, and just to offer some wider context, there's this book called "Acts" which offers 28 chapters of reply to "and" and "so what" and "what then?" You could start there.
But that would safely contextualize the event and the answer both into a foreign location, to a couple of millennia and a safe ocean of distance far away. What about right here, in our neck of the woods?
Christ is risen, and that means I should . . .
Do you have an answer to that? Because we really should take our celebration and our rejoicing and our ham and colored eggs and baskets full of candy and use all of that holiday energy to get us going on the implications of what we're claiming. Christ is risen, and that means God is good, the Good News is for thee and me, and we'd best be sharing it with others who need a word or two of hope. Jesus is alive, and if he could do it, his teaching appears to have been setting up all along that it will be possible for us, too. Resurrection may not play out exactly the same way for each and all, but Paul's talk of "the first fruits" of resurrection in Jesus is saying to us that death is not a final answer, but a pause, a semi-colon, a period through which we pass, but there is more.
And if there is more, then what we do with our now might just need to change. If age and infirmity and human limits are just one part of a wider longer broader arc, then we are not just winding up but getting ready. If our mistakes and missteps in this life that the world says will permanently mark us are not, in fact, the defining character of eternity and our future with God, then we may need to live with hope even when everyone around us says we're done.
God, unlike downtown Granville or Newark's Courthouse Square, allows U-turns. Unexpected U-turns are a traffic hazard, to be fair, but in living our lives and dealing with consequences, the record of divine activity in scripture, which Jesus rising from death to life would seem to validate, says God is fine with U-turns, even favors them somewhat. (The streets in the Holy City, we're told, are paved with gold, but the signage must be something…)
Christ is risen! And? This is what the churches of Christian belief and believers of a Christian perspective can and should be wrestling with between now and Pentecost. It had to be what Phillip and Andrew and Stephen, Martha and Mary and Lazarus, and all those disciples and apostles had to be dealing with in the days after the resurrection, before the ascension. Jesus is alive and now: we have to think through what he said to us, realize that some of the implausibilities he casually spoke have more import than even the practical advice he gave us. Christ is risen and now: we have to reflect on what this event tells us about the words of the prophets and the priests and the lamentations we have from those waiting generations before us. He lives, and I need to live as if that means something to me. Not that I'm marking time until my own death, but I have a place in a plan, a story, a heavenly banquet being prepared.
You know, the one Jesus kept talking about. Turns out he really meant it.
Do we?
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's glad to know he has a seat at the table. Tell him about your Easter blessings at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
Jeff Gill
So what has changed?
___
Alleluia, Christ is risen!
And?
I'll avoid the more caustic "so what?" which implies a more negative angle on the question. Let me deploy the conjunction, the question mark, the punctuation which implies a consequence.
Easter Sunday is when Christians, a majority perspective in our area, celebrate the epochal event of human history as we understand it: Christ is risen!
Mary Magdalene, a hesitant Peter, a frightened John, a doubting Thomas and then many more besides gave witness: Christ is risen! A couple came running back from Emmaus with further confirmation: Jesus is alive, we ate dinner with him! Groups in Jerusalem, a multitude on the Mount of Olives, a gathering by the Sea of Galilee would all agree that their eyes and awareness all conclude: He lives.
And?
There's the post-Easter question, and just to offer some wider context, there's this book called "Acts" which offers 28 chapters of reply to "and" and "so what" and "what then?" You could start there.
But that would safely contextualize the event and the answer both into a foreign location, to a couple of millennia and a safe ocean of distance far away. What about right here, in our neck of the woods?
Christ is risen, and that means I should . . .
Do you have an answer to that? Because we really should take our celebration and our rejoicing and our ham and colored eggs and baskets full of candy and use all of that holiday energy to get us going on the implications of what we're claiming. Christ is risen, and that means God is good, the Good News is for thee and me, and we'd best be sharing it with others who need a word or two of hope. Jesus is alive, and if he could do it, his teaching appears to have been setting up all along that it will be possible for us, too. Resurrection may not play out exactly the same way for each and all, but Paul's talk of "the first fruits" of resurrection in Jesus is saying to us that death is not a final answer, but a pause, a semi-colon, a period through which we pass, but there is more.
And if there is more, then what we do with our now might just need to change. If age and infirmity and human limits are just one part of a wider longer broader arc, then we are not just winding up but getting ready. If our mistakes and missteps in this life that the world says will permanently mark us are not, in fact, the defining character of eternity and our future with God, then we may need to live with hope even when everyone around us says we're done.
God, unlike downtown Granville or Newark's Courthouse Square, allows U-turns. Unexpected U-turns are a traffic hazard, to be fair, but in living our lives and dealing with consequences, the record of divine activity in scripture, which Jesus rising from death to life would seem to validate, says God is fine with U-turns, even favors them somewhat. (The streets in the Holy City, we're told, are paved with gold, but the signage must be something…)
Christ is risen! And? This is what the churches of Christian belief and believers of a Christian perspective can and should be wrestling with between now and Pentecost. It had to be what Phillip and Andrew and Stephen, Martha and Mary and Lazarus, and all those disciples and apostles had to be dealing with in the days after the resurrection, before the ascension. Jesus is alive and now: we have to think through what he said to us, realize that some of the implausibilities he casually spoke have more import than even the practical advice he gave us. Christ is risen and now: we have to reflect on what this event tells us about the words of the prophets and the priests and the lamentations we have from those waiting generations before us. He lives, and I need to live as if that means something to me. Not that I'm marking time until my own death, but I have a place in a plan, a story, a heavenly banquet being prepared.
You know, the one Jesus kept talking about. Turns out he really meant it.
Do we?
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's glad to know he has a seat at the table. Tell him about your Easter blessings at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
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