Thanksgiving for Mt. Rainier

By Josh Gross

Dear friends,

Sometimes the challenges before us seem overwhelming. The implications of climate change are so dire, and the Earth so close to the tipping point, that it's hard not to give in to despair. This isn't helped by the fact that many Americans are still in denial about the reality in front of them. Given our situation, it's often difficult to find anything to be thankful for. But if we take a moment to pause we'll quickly realize just how much we have to be grateful for. There are so many good, wondrous things in this world worth celebrating! In honor of the recent Thanksgiving holiday, I'd like to take some time to describe one reason I have to be thankful this fall.

I've been in Seattle for three months now, and during that time have had many wonderful experiences. But when I reflect on the ones that meant the most to me, nearly all of them revolve around the earth. The first of these is my trip to Mt. Rainier. In September, Ballard First Lutheran church organized a hike on Mt. Rainier and invited the Lutheran Volunteer Corps members in Seattle to join them. I will be forever grateful to Pastor Erik for giving me that opportunity.

I was impressed with Mt. Rainier as soon as I entered the park. As we drove up the long, winding road to the higher portions of the mountain everything I saw filled me with awe. Never before had I seen a forest like the one covering the lower reaches of Rainier. They were so lush, so green! The massive trees were so densely packed that I wondered how any creature more than a few feet tall could navigate them. And all of them, even the trees that were lying on the ground, had some sort of moss or lichens growing on them. This was my first exposure to the temperate rainforest, and I loved it. But the forests were nothing compared to the mountain itself.

Once we ascended above the main forests and the snow-covered peak came into view, my heart stopped. Everyone in the van gasped, and one of my fellow volunteers was so shocked by Rainier's greatness that she screamed. It wasn't a frightened scream, like the ones given off by children when they awake from nightmares. It was instead an exclamation of wonder: as if her body had suddenly been filled with so much awe that it burst forth in a flood of emotion. As for myself, all I could do was stare at the massive compilation of snow and rock that now towered over me. No words were needed.

Hiking on Mt. Rainier was the most magical experience of my life. The sights, sounds, and smells I took in will always be part of me. But even more significant than Rainier's beauty is the lesson it taught me. When I was first confronted with its enormity, I felt incredibly small. But further reflection showed me that the opposite is true. Yes, according to physical measurement I am tiny compared to even the smallest mountain. But the same God who shaped Rainier shaped me, indeed all of us, as well. What's more, God entrusted us with the care of all creation. It is our job to safeguard such amazing works of nature as Mt. Rainier.

This is a huge vote of confidence in humanity. God wouldn't have appointed us stewards of creation unless we could fulfill that role. The unique gifts of intellect and ambition our Creator endowed us with give us the power to alter the world around us; even mountains. So far our species has used this power to degrade the planet. We horde its resources for the benefit of a privileged few, causing great damage in the process. But humanity's gifts also give us the ability to set things right. If we work together we can change the course of history. We can bandage our planet's wounds and slow the bleeding. Over time we may even be able to stop it entirely, and help the earth heal. We may not see these changes in our lifetimes, but if enough of us join together they will happen.

So this Thanksgiving I am most thankful for two things. The first is the opportunity to hike on Mt. Rainier. That was the trip of a lifetime, and even now I'm in awe of that mountain's greatness. The second is the power our species has been given by our Creator. The intellect we've been given grants us the ability to be truly effective stewards of Earth. We have only to cast off the self-effacing shackles of greed and realize that our gifts are meant to benefit more than just ourselves. They are meant to benefit us, our neighbors, and all creation. I cannot tell you how grateful I am to have been given these abilities, and for the opportunity to share them with all of you.   

I give thanks

As we enter this Thanksgiving week, we at Earth Ministry are grateful for God's beautiful creation and everything that each of you does to protect and care for creation. Remembering these blessings, we offer this poem, "Awakening" by Harriet Kofalk.

Awakening
in a moment of peace
I give thanks to the source of all peace

as I set forth
into the day
the birds sing
with new voices
and I listen
with new ears and give thanks

nearby
the flower called Angel's Trumpet
blows in the breeze
and I give thanks

my feet touch the grass
still wet with dew
and I give thanks
both to my mother earth
for sustaining my steps
and to the seas
cycling once again
to bring forth new life

the dewdrops
become jewelled
with the morning's sun-fire
and I give thanks

you can see forever
when the vision is clear
in this moment
each moment
I give thanks

May we give thanks each and every morning. A blessed thanksgiving to you this year!

Eating and Giving Thanks

By: Dana Swanson

The cornucopia, overflowing with vibrant colors and shapely gourds, serves as the centerpiece for this traditional November feast. Deeply hued cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie garnished with whipping cream and a bronzed turkey arranged upon a platter – iconic images of everyone’s favorite gluttonous holiday.

When we think of Thanksgiving, the image that comes to mind is of family and friends gathered around a table of steaming food, autumnal aromas tickling our nostrils as we break bread – and our belt buckles – together. Careful not to scald our palms, we share our mashed potatoes and cornbread, giving thanks for the bounty of the year’s harvest.

In my family, it is tradition for everyone to go around the table and share some things we are thankful for. Between ambrosial bites, it isn’t commonplace to contemplate where the food - now rapidly disappearing from the table - came from. Actually, there is usually chatter concerning who brought the cheesy cauliflower dish, but nothing about the field where that cauliflower spent its days before meeting the cheddary goodness.

Living in an age of supermarkets and Big Macs, it is easy to overlook where food comes from. Seduced by food already prepared – stuffing in a box or cranberry sauce from a can – we don’t realize how deeply eating impacts the Earth. According to environmentalist and farmer Wendell Berry, the fact that the industrial eater doesn’t realize eating is an agricultural act renders him or her a victim; passive and uncritical consumers, industrial eats consume food unaware of the connections between eating and the Earth. When we buy potatoes from Brazil, we are supporting a food system marinated in fossil fuels. From petroleum-based chemicals used to combat pests and weeds to the gasoline it takes to ship a potato thousands of miles, our food economy is contingent upon sources of fossil fuels. In "The Pleasures of Eating," Berry offers some additional insight on the politics of food:

“We still remember that we cannot be free if our minds and voices are controlled by someone else. But we have neglected to understand that we cannot be free if our food and its sources are controlled by someone else. The condition of the passive consumer of food is not a democratic condition. One reason to eat responsibly is to live free.”

Berry proposes that a significant part of the pleasure of eating comes from one’s knowledge of the lives and the world from which food comes. In other words, by recognizing the connections between eating and the land, one becomes more than a passive consumer. By realizing we are participants in agriculture, we might begin to ask questions - where did this food come from?

For all meals, but especially for the meal with a holiday all its own, I challenge you to consider where your food comes from. Be a responsible consumer; choose a free-range turkey rather than an industrial raised butterball. As your fork clinks against your plate this Thanksgiving, let freedom ring.

Wendell Berry’s “The Pleasures of Eating,” as well as other musings on food, can be found in Food & Faith: Justice, Joy and Daily Bread, available for purchase from the Earth Ministry Online Store.

The Act of Thanksgiving

by Clare Brauer-Rieke

With few exceptions, and for understandable reasons, most of us have come to think of Thanksgiving as a day. For example: Thanksgiving Day this year is Thursday, November 26th (12am-11:59pm). Like many others, I plan to travel to be with my family so that we can all sit down to a bountiful harvest meal and eat more than we should. Afterward, feeling a little lethargic, we will all exchange stories and laughter (except for my unapologetic grandfather, who will leave us to watch football as he does every year).

Intuitively, I understand the connection of Thanksgiving with lots of food and family: we are grateful for bounty, in both life-sustaining food (that which sustains our body) and life-sustaining love (that which sustains our spirit). But I think that when it comes to praise and thanksgiving we may be cheating ourselves out of all the other things for which we should be grateful. The day takes precedence over the thanksgiving itself, and we lose ourselves in the requisite crazy-making that is lots of food and family.

Conversely, if the act of thanksgiving is more important than the day, joyous contemplation takes priority over the stress of family and preparing a feast. The point of Thanksgiving shifts from "I am so thankful for this surplus of food that I will eat it all, overstuff myself, and then fall asleep because of the turkey overload" (or to be fair to those who prepare the food, "I am so grateful that my kids came home from college/my grandchildren came all the way over from Kansas to be with me that I will prepare the best Thanksgiving feast ever, and it shall be perfect"), to something a little different. So, I offer my Thanksgiving reflection:

I am thankful that I have the capability to recognize grace in my life.

I am thankful that I am empowered to realize what is enough and what is too much; I am educated about the world, its need, and the need of its hungry poor.

I am thankful that my presence, my love, and my laughter are more important to my family than anything I could cook for them. Our time together can be joyful and not stressful.

I am thankful to the earth for its bounty, and for the opportunity I have to express my praise for creation in thoughtful consideration of what I consume this Thanksgiving.

I am thankful for complexity.

I am thankful for simplicity.

I am thankful for this community of believers that seeks to nourish, sustain, and protect the creation of which we are part-- a people who will give back.

Happy Thanksgiving.