MAN’S INHUMANITY to man is a story as old as humanity itself. One of the places we go to find hope, respite and relief is Church. Yet we humans ostracize each other, stab and shoot each other, cut off one another’s heads and bomb one another, because of which church we attend. Here by the Mississippi River on the edge
HERE AT The Church O The Pines, we make no differentiation between nature and the realm of the sacred. We believe that heaven ‘is as much under our feet as over our heads.’ We agree with the Zen poet who said, “Green trees, fragrant grasses… a place not sacred? Where?” We know that human beings are natural creatures, as much
THIS MORNING’S Church o’ the Pines post comes from Osprey Wilds Environmental Learning Center, where our ‘Writers in the Woods’ group has had a GRAND time this weekend. Sixteen souls sharing thoughts, dreams, words, feelings, fears, and hopes. Sharing their hearts with one another in the most open, caring, and generous of ways. All the while enfolded by the beauty
THESE ARE interesting times. When we have over 40% of the country happily abandoning every value and virtue they were raised in and once believed in, instead following a Pied Piper of mayhem who says, “It’s great! You can say anything and do ANYTHING and nothing happens. Don’t be suckers! Follow me!!” When we have an entire political party of
HOME FROM RAINY LAKE, it is good to be back to the little cabin in the woods we call the Church o’ the Pines. Good to see and hear the humble congregation, hooved, feathered, finned, furred, rooted, and blooming. All seem to acknowledge the changing of the season. The first colors touch the maples and ashes. The squirrels seem even
IT IS NOT SUNDAY, but at the Church O The Pines the sanctuary is always open for moments of peace, and renewal, and spiritual reflection.… The chipmunks agree to this, as do the deer, bluejays, crows, chickadees, foxes, squirrels, and hummingbirds. Even the wandering local bear. In fact, all the members of our humble congregation believe that doors should always
AT THE CHURCH O THE PINES it is a gray and slightly gloomy August morn, but no one seems to mind. The bluejays shout their names and utter all manner of other vocalizations. Chickadees announce their name as well. (Evidently it is a thing in our church to arrive broadcasting your own name.) Goldfinches sing sweetly. Chipmunks chip and woodpeckers
ON THIS SUNDAY at the old cabin in the Church O’ The Pines, it is a fine day to be a goose, gabbling from the river. Or my favorite songster, the wood thrush, singing ethereal songs from the deep woods. Or my old friend Sparky the Cardinal singing his own heart out, or a flame-sided orilole flashing across the yard
FROM THE DEPARTMENT of 9-year-old grandson humor here at the Church O The Pines: Knock-knock. Who’s there? Panther. Panther who? Panther what you wear on your legth. OR… What did the fisherman say to the magician: Pick a cod, any cod. OR PERHAPS… How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh? 10 tickles. AND FINALLY… It’s inappropriate
THE ORIOLE AND THE EAGLE… Today we awaken back in the Pine Point woods—the Church O’ The Pines—after a week leading Road Scholars through the bluffs and valleys of SE Minnesota. In exploring the great Mississippi flyway we encountered scores of bird species, vast numbers of warblers, including the ever-sought Prothonotary—or the Swamp Candle, as I like to call it.