TODAY THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES is a bit gray and frosty, and crusty and icy and sticky, all the residue of a winter ‘storm’ of sorts. And a bit quiet. But all week long, from dawn to dusk, church soloist Sparky the Cardinal has been regaling the congregation. Through an endless assortment of trills and warbles, arpeggios and cadenzas
AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES we hug to ourselves the belief that our soaring tree trunks, green lofts and sanctuaries, are akin to the great cathedrals of the world. Similar in their aspirational nature and design. Such structures, throughout history, were built to lift hearts toward the heavens, and souls toward the highest of human values. Unfortunately, that is
AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES, the congregation is over the moon about Kathy Ann’s return. Sparky the Cardinal is singing his head off. And Kathy is feeling quite well today—nowhere near normal strength, but pretty good! But something else interesting is going on here in the pines by the river. We have a new visitor who’s never stopped by
AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES, the congregation is largely on its own today as I am back and forth from the hospital. Mostly forth. Kathy is doing… OK. But there are bouts of nausea and significant discomfort. Lots of kind, competent nurses. Meanwhile in my visits back to the church grounds we find hints of Spring. Esteemed church choir
THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES is a forest, on the shore of the Father of Waters, the Mississippi. There are many wonderful things about a forest, and one of the finest is… well… trees. And here at our Church we are blessed with many. Trees have much to recommend them. Shade in the summer, shelter in the winter. Food and
GOOD MORNING from the cold and snowy Church O’ The Pines, where the rafters and beams and pews and aisles are frosted. And where we listen to a Bach Brandenburg Concerto as we post these church notes. We are sometimes asked how our humble church is different from—or similar to—other churches you may know. Well, let’s start with the differences.
EVERY GOOD CHURCH has something special to recommend it. The architecture perhaps. Or the beauty of the grounds. History, tradition. The feeling of spiritual uplift one gets from attending. Our Church O’ The Pines, under the big pine grove by the Mississippi, has all of these. But in truth, my favorite feature is the virtue of the congregation. Oh, I
AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES, it is winter. As it was winter yesterday and will be winter again tomorrow. Winter is a fine season, if you like snow and ice and cold, more dark and less light, fewer birds and no flowers. But it is still a fine season–one of our top four–and I like it. Just not as
TODAY from the Church O’ The Pines, a small outing to the Little Stream. The woods seem dead, but are only resting. The stream is frozen, but only on the surface. Beneath the cold, still ice, everything is still moving, singing, flowing, living. Everything important happens below the surface. One day the ice, too, will move. It will be tossed
AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES, all is calm and rather bright. The blue jays holler and the squirrels scold. The chickadees gently gossip and the local deer herd drops by for a visit. The deacon pines reach their arms toward heaven. And the whole congregation seems to be at peace with the world, sharing the general feeling that it’s