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
THIS SMILING, HANDSOME FELLOW is Bob Heim. We’ll get back to him in just a moment… Here at the Cabin-in-the-Woods, in the grove also known as the Church O’ The Pines, Kathy and I feed the blue jays. And crows. And red squirrels and gray squirrels. And nuthatches and pileated woodpeckers and other feathered friends. And deer. And a whole
AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES, there is a bit more roof work—moss and pine needle removal—to be done. Up on a roof, near a stone chimney-steeple, there is a wonderful change in perspective. One sees the world with something closer to the eye of the chickadee, the crow, the jay, the hawk. The golden carpet of needles is more
AN AUTUMN EVENING walk round the Church O’ The Pines woods. A centering walk. A hopeful walk. A walk of deep breaths and the fragrance of fallen leaves, the last golden carpet from the last maple. It held on so long and steadfastly. A blue canoe in a red sunset, the desire to take it out for one more spin.
OCTOBER SUNRISE, Church O’ The Pines. The morning gossiping of chickadees. The laugh of a pileated woodpecker. The reflecting Father of Waters…. All the congregation, surrounded by beauty. We wish you beauty. We wish you Good Sabbath.