Litany
Gathered by Ray from the writings of John Muir....
LeaderWhen we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the Universe.
Response Going to the mountains is going home.
LeaderEverybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to the body and soul alike.
Response Going to the mountains is going home.
LeaderKeep close to Nature’s heart ... and break clear away, once in a while, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean. None of Nature’s landscapes are ugly so long as they are wild.
Response Going to the mountains is going home.
LeaderWhen we contemplate the whole globe as one great dewdrop, striped and dotted with continents and islands, flying through space with all other stars all singing and shining together as one, the whole universe appears as an infinite storm of beauty. The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.
Response Going to the mountains is going home.
LeaderCome to the woods, for here is rest. There is no repose like that of the deep green woods. Here grow the wallflower andthe violet. The squirrel will come and sit upon your kneww, the logcock will wake you up in the morning. Sleep in forgetfulness of all ill. Of all the upness accessible to mortals, there is no upness comparable to the mountains.
Response Going to the mountains is going home.
LeaderI only went out for a walk, and finally concluded to stay out tille sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in. One touch of Nature ... makes all the worldkin.
Response Going to the mountains is going home.
Meditation
Joan - For our time of Meditation, I read this poem by Nancy Wood:
My help is in the mountain
Where I take myself to heal
The earthly wounds
That people give to me.
I find a rock with sun on it
And a stream where the water runs gentle
And the trees which one by one give me company.
So must I stay for a long time
Until I have grown from the rock
And the stream is running through me
And I cannot tell myself from one tall tree.
Then I know that nothing touches me
Nor makes me run away.
My help is in the mountain
That I take away with me.
Earth cure me. Earth receive my woe. Rock
strengthen me. Rock receive my weakness. Rain
wash my sadness away. Rain receive my doubt.
Sun make sweet my song. Sun receive the anger
in my heart.
Let us join together for a time of silence.
Where I sit is holy,
Holy is the ground
Forest, mountain, river,
Listen to the sound.
Great Spirit circle
All around me. (anonymous)
-Amen
Sermon - “Look to the Hills!”
Joan - Introductory Words
I said to Ray one day, “How about we do a service together?” And Ray grinned back at me, happily, and said, “Cool!” So we picked this date, and we brainstormed ideas. What would be our theme? One of us, trying to get very particular, said, “How about ?mountains’?” There was silence, and then both of us chimed in, “Cool!” A perfect Midsummer Reflection.
Joan went to the internet to read about mountains, geography, and mountaineering and the like, to focus her thoughts. Ray went straight to the writings of John Muir the naturalist. Joan pondered the metaphors and symbols, the spiritual journey that mountains can represent in our lives. Ray pondered the music that mountains suggested to him and found a kindred soul in John Denver’s songs. A little collage of personal observations came together. And we share it with you this morning.
We start out somewhat light-heartedly, as Ray tells you a story in verse about a mountain cliff and an ambulance down in the valley.................
Ray – “An Ambulance Down in the Valley”
T'was a dangerous cliff as they freely confessed
though to walk near its edge was so pleasant.
But over its edge had slipped a Duke,
and it fooled many a peasant.
The people said something would have to be done
but their projects did not at all tally.
Some said, "put a fence around the edge of the cliff,"
others, "an ambulance down in the valley."
The lament of the crowd was profound and loud
as their hearts overflowed with pity.
But the ambulance carried the cry of the day
as it spread to the neighboring cities.
So a collection was made to accumulate aid
and dwellers in highway and alley,
gave dollars and cents not to furnish a fence,
but an ambulance down in the valley.
For the cliff is alright if you're careful they said,
and if folks ever slip and are falling;
it's not the slipping and falling that hurts them
so much as the shock down below when they're stopping.
And so for years as these mishaps occurred
quick forth would the rescuers sally,
to pick up the victims who fell from the cliff
with the ambulance down in the valley.
Said one in his plea, it's a marvel to me
that you'd give so much greater attention
to repairing results than to curing the cause, why
you'd much better aim at prevention.
For the mischief of course should be stopped at its source;
come friends and neighbors let us rally.
It makes far better sense to rely on a fence
than an ambulance down in the valley.
He's wrong in his head the majority said.
He would end all our earnest endeavors.
He's the kind of a man that would shrink his responsible work,
but we will support it forever.
Aren't we picking up all just as fast as they fall,
and giving them care quite liberally?
Why a superfluous fence is of no consequence,
if the ambulance works in the valley.
Now this story seems queer as I've given it here,
but things oft occur which are stranger.
More humane we assert to repair the hurt,
than the plan of removing the danger.
The best possible course would be to safeguard the source,
and to attend to things rationally.
Yes, build up the fence and let us dispense
with this ambulance down in the valley.
Joan - First Reflection
D. H. Lawrence reflected on mountains in a letter to a friend. “I can’t do with mountains at close quarters,” he wrote, “—they are always in the way, and they are so stupid, never moving and never doing anything but obtrude themselves.”
But, then again, John Ruskin, English art critic, wrote of mountains: “Mountains are to the rest of the body of the earth, what violent muscular action is to the human body. The muscles and tendons of its anatomy are, in the mountain, brought out with force and convulsive energy, full of expression, passion, and strength.”
And, in his poem “Mont Blanc,” the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley said this of mounatins:
Thou hast a voice, great Mountain, to repeal
Large codes of fraud and woe; not understood
By all, but which the wise, and great, and good
Interpret, or make felt, or deeply feel.”
Meaning – the great voice of the mountains speaks Truth and Comfort, that those of us who are wise, great, and good can hear and understand, can help express to others, and through which can be deeply moved.
Believe it or not, there is no universally accepted definition of a mountain. Mountains are commonly defined on the basis of attributes such as altitude, steepness of slope; ...and they contain the most extensive and varied climatic conditions, vegetation, wildlife, and human cultural diversity of any landform on earth.
Mountains are awe-inspiring, massive, unpredictable, and fragile. They are profoundly important to a healthy and balanced earth environment. They are dangerous. And, they are sacred.
In a preface to Maurice Herzog’s book, Annapurna, Lucien Devies wrote, “That wonderful world of high mountains, dazzling in their rock and ice, acts as a catalyst. It suggests the infinite but it is not the infinite. The heights only give us what we ourselves bring to them.”
There are many metaphors that come to mind when we reflect upon mountains; many images we bring to an experience of the heights.
Three stand out as common metaphorical representations of the human condition projected high onto the mountains.
They are:
A longing for immortality; finding a way to defy death.
A longing for finding meaning in the world and in our lives.
1 A longing for comfort and peace.
First is the challenge presented by human mortality. For some this challenge is taken up as a physical and mental test of will and endurance leading to ultimate victory. For the mountain climber, the stark, rough heights of a mountain can become a personal-best challenge. A mountain is a looming presence and a significant obstacle to be reckoned with; a serious reminder of one’s insignificance and fragile mortality, coupled with a human yearning to be in league with the gods.
For the serious mountaineer - who chooses to face great risk and danger, there must be a lot of time spent in disciplined preparation for the difficult ascent, which includes the patient accumulation of knowledge, resources, and stamina. The metaphor of mountain climbing speaks to the great will to perservere and the physical triumph over death. It is a daring act of stretching and exceeding our limits.
Second, there is the symbolic importance of mountains in found in myths of all religions.
We all know of the stories of the gods who can be glimpsed at the mountain peaks; the peaks being closer to heaven than the valleys. It seems an appropriately elevated dwelling place for the “Higher Power” of our lives.
Moses climbed Mt. Sinai to meet his god and receive the essential teachings of Judaism along with the basis of law and ethics for much of Western civilization.
Abraham led his son, Isaac, up the mountain as a sacrifice to prove his submission to his God --life’s greatest power and mystery over which he had no control and owed only obeisance -- Jahweh, the Mountain Divinity.
The remote Himalayan peak of Mount Kailas, rising aloof above the Tibetan plateau, directs the minds of millions of Hindus and Buddhists toward the utmost attainments of their spiritual traditions.
The graceful cone of Mount Fuji has come to represent the quest for beauty and harmony that lies at the heart of Japanese culture.
The San Francisco Peaks in Arizona are revered as abodes of weather dieties, places of springs and sacred reservoirs of waters on which societies depend for their very existence.
I think of the recently discovered “ice maidens” of the Andes Mountains who became frozen in death, in sacrificial death, thousands of years ago. Their preservation and appearance in our day now reveals to us the ancient human longing of the collective unconscious: that mountains hold for us the most promising place on earth where the boundary between the ephemeral and the universal is thinnest and most permeable to our imaginations.
The third mountain metaphor familiar to most of us, is spiritual as well as psychological. It speaks to a need for the higher ground; a need for clarity. Don’t we all want to stop at those scenic lookouts? If only we could see it all - have the broader view - get some perspective on our lives - to get it clear - know the meaning of it all - to find the fullness and serenity of the wider view, the wider understanding.
To be finally “clear,” as in many mystical practices, is to find ultimate wisdom, to become part of universal being, and to touch our brow to the truth of life. It is nirvana, journey’s elusive end, when we return to the place where we began. It is wholeness and healing. It is deep peace.
Mountains have it all, in terms of power, mystery, danger, wildness, rugged heights, and inspiring views of what is rarely seen or known below.
What mountain is it that moves you...that gives you inspiration, challenge, or peace? “Look to the hills, from whence cometh your help.”
Ray - Song “Eclipse,”by Joahn Denver
Joan - Second Reflection
“Window or aisle?” the person at the counter asked as I prepared to board a plane for a western destination.
No matter how often I fly, I always pause to make the choice: To take a window seat means being able to get the God’s-eye view of earth. But what if I want to go to the restroom? It’s such a bother to have to ask people to move. And, I don’t like the feeling of being trapped.
My answer I prefer giving, although I don’t always give it, is: “Window.” To choose the window is to choose to see. Whether I am seeing the snake-like form of a river, or marvelling at the play of moonlight on the clouds or sunlight on a body of water; whether the view is a patchwork of planted fields, as it was when I’d take off or land in Wichita, a city busy with lights in grid patterns, or the awesome gullies and crags of high mountains, I am filled with a deep sense of wonder.
Flying West is always a treat because of being above mountains and looking down on them. I move close to the small plane window, my face almost against the thick glass, and am transfixed. Tree line. Snow caps when they’re high enough, or just snow when it’s winter. Trails near the top. Where do they go, who uses them? Ridges and water erosion. Stark shapes made more oblique as the sun’s angle shifts.
I am seeing things that I would never ordinarily be able to see. There is always something - from on high like this - that I have never seen before. I am transformed by height and space. I feel as if my life is more clear.
Knowing that to choose the window is an invitation to beauty, awe, and wonder – that it is an opportunity to break through the cloudiness of my own spirit – why do I always pause to make the decision?
We often must choose to be touched by the world or to remain complacent and take it for granted. We are invited to choose beauty or fear, vision or convenience.
Each day of our lives, in fact, we are given the choice, “Window or aisle?” Something inside me will always pause before I choose ---- but I think I’ll take the window.
Ray - Song, “Looking for Space,”by John Denver
Joan - Nancy Wood poem
“My help is in the mountain
Where I take myself to heal
The earthly wounds
That people give to me.
I find a rock with sun on it
And a stream where the water runs gentle
And the trees which one by one give me company.
So must I stay for a long time
Until I have grown from the rock
And the stream is running through me
And I cannot tell myself from one tall tree.
Then I know that nothing touches me
Nor makes me run away.
My help is in the mountain
That I take away with me.”
Closing Song - Ray (& congregation)
Chorus from “Annie’s Song” by John Denver:
You fill up my senses
Like a night in the Springtime
Like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert
Like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses, come fill me again...
Benediction
Ray-
The mountains are fountains of [humanity] as well as of rivers, of glaciers, of fertile soil. The great poets, philosophers, prophets, able men [and women] whose thoughts and deeds have moved the world,have come down from the mountains - mountain dwellers who have grown strong there with the forest trees in Nature's workshops. Going to the mountains is going home. --John Muir
Joan-
Let us go our separate ways now, taking with us a moment of transcendence and the warmth of a loving community. Let these moments and this warmth walk with us throughout the week and bless whomever we touch.
–Amen and Shalom
