Garbage Patches and Oil Spills

Every day I grow more concerned and sad about the oil that is pouring into the gulf. I get that it is the first of its kind and that the depths they are operating take great time and calculations, but I feel like we are running out of time. The disaster is about to become global and then all those apocalyptic movies begin to play in my head...have we finally done it?

Before the Gulf Oil spill I was learning about something called the North Atlantic Gyre and a newly discovered "garbage patch" there. There are 5 gyres across the globe, current centers that collect debris from the outer edges. Kind of like the center of whirlpool but much much slower and subtler. In these Gyres scientist are just discovering what happens to plastic in the ocean. It never goes away but breaks down into smaller and smaller particles, ingested by fish that are eventually caught and on our table so that we are eating our own plastic! Something prophetic about that...

Anyway - dear reader - here are some web sites and videos for you to see - please educate yourself, think about this amazing creation God put into our hands to be cared for by each one of us...no politics here - God gave humankind dominion over the world - not domination - let us live up to that gift. Please go and check these out:

http://www.5gyres.org/

www.vimeo.com/10137337

www.vimeo.com/10053284

www.youtube.com/watch?v=p1m9yr3DV6Y

The Servant Girl at Emmaus

(a painting by Velazquez)

She listens, listens holding

her breath. Surely that voice

is his - the one

who had looked at her, once across the crowd,

as no one ever had looked?

Had seen her? Had spoken as if to her?

Surely those hands were his,

taking the platter of bread from hers just now?

Hands he'd laid on the dying and made them well?

Surely that face - ?

The man they'd crucified for sedition and blasphemy.

The man whose body disappeared from its tomb,

The man it was rumored now some women had seen this morning alive?

Those who had brought this stranger home to their table

don't recognize yet with whom they sit.

But she in the kitchen, absently touching the winejug she's to take in,

a young dark skinned servant intently listening,

swings round and sees

the light around him

and is sure.

Denise Levertov

/

I got to go home this past weekend to spend a little time with Mom. She is doing well and counting the days until wheels get back under her feet. We had several jobs to do and among them cleaning out some old magazines. There was one container that we didn't get in the first round and so I lingered over them a little bit and enjoyed looking at paintings and reading the "how to's" in these artist's magazines. On one page was this painting and the poem. It captures my imagination so much I had to share.

Read the poem and then look closely at the photo. In the upper left corner through a window you see a dinner happening - the setting is the evening of Easter Sunday...the disciples that were walking to Jerusalem were having dinner, but didn't recognize the stranger that had joined them. But there in the midst of the kitchen and wine jugs and baskets of bread...the servant girl recognizes Jesus. The outsider, the servant, the "least of these" has no questions about who this is that is eating at the table she serves.

So often those "outside" of ourselves can see so much more clearly than we ever can...take a listen to those people in your life...they may just recognize something you are missing...