In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters... And God said, "Let the waters bring forth swarms of living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the dome of the sky."     (Genesis 1:1-2, 20)

I recently had the opportunity to join my colleagues in retreat at a lake house in upstate New York. This now-habitual yearly retreat is designated as a time for relaxation, fellowship, and conviviality. One of the benefits of such retreat is, of course, recreation - we often do some boating together on the lake, and this particular occasion was no different. When I woke up on Saturday morning, I looked out the broad picture window to find a cool mist rising from the warm water, and decided that a brief paddle around the lake was in order to enjoy the day. I slowly paddled back into the narrowing arm of the artificial lake into which poured the small creek that provided the lake with its water. The houses, docks, and boats grew smaller as I worked my way back - as the depth of the lake drops, the practicality of larger boats does as well. Soon, I managed to find the corner of this large lake that was too shallow for any but the smallest, human-powered boats to go. I glided over a submerged tree trunk with just enough bark poking out of the water to provide a turtle with a place to sun itself. A small animal submerged in front of me - a muskrat, perhaps. Dozens of different types of insects swarmed in the waters, and around the reeds and cattails at the water's edge: mosquitoes, flies, water striders, and a myriad of swarming things that I was unable to identify.

Because we often try so hard to sculpt our environment to suit our needs, proclaiming to ourselves that we are fashioning a "habitable" space out of the wilderness, we often lose sight of the original state of creation: a seemingly wild, yet immeasurably ordered place, replete with insects and frogs, muskrats and turtles, reeds, cattails, and all sorts of plants that we learned to identify in tenth-grade biology. And even in the most sculpted and refined locations of human engineering, this original state of wildness sometimes peeks through. A robin builds its nest in the eaves of a house. A line of ants marches proudly across the sidewalk shuttling supplies back to the nest. A great blue heron pauses to rest at a plugged-up drain culvert beside a highway. Next time, before immediately reaching for the can of Raid, or calling animal control, pause and take a moment to appreciate the variety and wonder of God's creation - an in-breaking and perpetually rejuvenating creation. And even though those creepy-crawlies don't belong in the house, they do belong outside...

Most merciful creator, I ask that you would grant me further understanding and appreciation of your creation, and that you would help me to experience the order and wisdom of your continual re-creation during my own recreation. Amen

Contributed by Jeremy
Sunday September 9, 2007
Liturgical Year C Week 41