The True Vine

May 11, 2009

The True Vine

Did you know that there are vineyards
in nearly half of the counties in New
York State? New York State is the
2nd largest producer of wine in the
United States. California, of course,
is number one in this field. I had no
idea that New York State had that
many vineyards though.

Did you know that two thousand years
before Jesus was born, the Egyptians
were praising the abundance of wine in
the country where he was born? It seems
that Syria-Palestine has ideal conditions
for vineyards? The Egyptians had to create
raised beds and bring in soil for growing
grapes. Even with all of that effort, their
wine never rivalled that of Jesus' land.
The land of Canaan was the heart
of vine growing long before Jesus said:

"I am the true vine,
and my Father is the vine grower."

Everyone listening to Jesus would have
immediately had a mental picture of a
local vineyard. For the people of Jesus'
day grapevines were as familiar a sight
as McDonald's golden arched "M" is for
us today. Vineyards were everywhere.
They provided good fruit, good wine and
good money for their owners, plenty of
employment for the local folks too.

My Father removes every branch in me
that bears no fruit. Every branch that
bears fruit, my Father prunes to make
it bear more fruit.

I've been studying the Bible for nearly
sixty years now. Yet whenever I read
an old familiar passage like this, something
new pops out. In the past, I've always
associated pruning with getting rid of
the barren branches - the ones with no
fruit. For the first time, it sank in that
there was more to pruning than taking
out the barren branches. Pruning was meant
to make fruitful branches bear MORE fruit.

Not a stunning insight - but I had always
associated pruning with getting rid of
what was useless, bad or dead. This time
I heard Jesus saying that pruning was
meant to improve and increase the
production of grapes.

You have already been cleansed
by the word which I have spoken to you.
Abide in me as I abide in you.

Jesus is the vine. God is the vine grower.
We are the branches who are supposed
to be growing and producing an abundance
of grapes. The grapes represent all that
is good in this life - love and laughter,
close and caring relationships, living to gain
ever increasing wisdom and an attitude of
constant wonder - an ongoing process of
growth leading to spiritual maturity, giving
our every moment of life on earth meaning.
Jesus is the vine. God is the vine grower.
We are the branches drawing sustenance
from them both.

I love this allegory! It gives such a clear
and comforting image of our relationship
to God and the primary purpose of our
existence - to grow and bear fruit.

Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself
unless it abides in the vine,
neither can you unless you abide in me.

Another aspect of this insight is the
affirmation that pruning is NOT punitive.
Pruning is meant to minimize waste
and maximize growth.

I am the vine,
you are the branches.
Those who abide in me
and I in them bear much fruit
because apart from me
you can do nothing.

If branches do not bear fruit or choose
to leave the vine, there are dire consequences.

Whoever does not abide in me
is thrown away like a branch and withers.
Such branches are gathered,
thrown into the fire and burned.

Too often folks associate this with the eternal
fires of Hell. For me, it is simply stating the
consequences of trying to live without any
connection to God. Even those who choose
to leave or are pruned away serve a purpose.
They are gathered and provide fuel for fires that
cook food and keep people warm. Being
thrown in the fire to be burned is not a punishment.
It is a consequence of being disconnected.
When we sever our relationship with God,
we are useless in the sense that we can
no longer bear fruit. But we are still useful as
fuel for much needed fires.

If you abide in me and my words abide in you,
ask whatever you wish and it will be done for you.
My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit
and become my disciples.

This probably gets misunderstood more than
any other part of this passage. It does NOT mean
that God becomes our Fairy Godmother granting
every wish and whim we think up. It is about
an eternal relationship with God, a forever
connection to Jesus and a non-stop commitment
to live life on God's terms - bearing fruit as one
of many branches who are providing spiritual
nourishment for the world at large. This is the
foundation out of which our requests to God
will be made - asking for whatever we need to
keep going and growing. It is NOT about asking
for "things" for ourselves. It is about asking
for strength and support for ourselves so that
we can keep adding to the abundance of God's
goodness and grace in this world.

As my Father has loved me so I have loved you.
Abide in my love.
If you keep my commandments
you will abide in my love,
just as I have kept my Father's commandments
and abide in my Father's love.

This is my favorite verse. All I have to do is
let Jesus soak up the sun, drink in the rain and
give me what I need to grow, grow, grow. God
harvests the grapes, prunes me when I need it
and all I have to do is stay connected and
productive. Jesus keeps the God-ness I need
flowing so I can just keep on growing. A nice secure
arrangement if you ask me.

I have said these things to you
so that my joy may be in you,
and your joy may be complete.

A happy ending! If you need the sight of
a real vineyard to enhance your understanding
and appreciation of this grapevine allegory,
head out towards Wolcott, NY and get yourself
intentionally lost. I did last week. I always
have to explore where I will come out if I go
the opposite way of what will take me home.
I ended up on Lummisville Road. I passed
Chimney Bluff State Park. I saw spectacular
views of Port Bay. I did u-turns on several
Dead Ends. I went around in circles for about
an hour surrounded by acres of orchards,
fertile farmland and vineyards. I ended up
going back to Wolcott and returning home
on my usual route, chuckling at myself for
not realizing how close to Lake Ontario I was.
It was a great day for a ride in the country and
it produced a bumper crop of good fruit - in the
form of inner peace.

I have written this column so that my inner
peace may be shared with you, and it will either
affirm the peace you already have or move you
to bear some of that good fruit for yourself today.

On With the Show!

May 4, 2009

Spiritually Speaking


I spent Sunday afternoon watching SUNY Oswego's
production of Steven Sondheim's musical
"Into the Woods." Characters from several
fairy tales make journeys 'into the woods' for
various reasons. All learn valuable, though
sometimes painful, lessons. The first act,
however, finds everyone with a happy ending.
Their wishes are fulfilled. And viewers are tempted
to think the play is over. It isn't.

In the second act, all the happy endings go
awry with the arrival of one very angry giantess.
Her husband had been accidentally killed in the
first act. She wanted vengeance. Only four
characters are left standing at the end. All are
determined to have more realistic expectations
for life and to be content with what they have
instead wasting time and energy on wishes
and fantasies of what might be. It was a delightful
show starring Gregory Reynolds, a former tenor
in the choir at the Pennellville church - now a
sophomore at SUNY Oswego. Thanks to his
proud mother, Karen many of us were privileged
to see the show this past weekend. I love a good
musical. Sitting there watching Little Red Riding
Hood, Cinderella, a baker (Gregory) and his wife,
the Big Bad Wolf, Jack and many, many others
romp through the woods, singing and dancing up
a storm, reminded me of how much I enjoyed
being part of a theater group in my younger days.
Maybe when I retire, I'll be able to incorporate
this time-consuming pasttime back into my
life.

I usually worked behind the scenes. I got involved
in a local summer theater group the first two years
of college because the young man I was dating at
the time was involved. He was a star.

Our troupe had little money but lots of talent and time.
Trent, my boyfriend of the moment, played
Matt, the lead in Harvey Schmidt's and Tom
Jones' musical "The Fantastiks" the first summer.
He had a gorgeous tenor voice. That musical
has beautiful tenor solos. My favorite one was
"Soon It's Gonna Rain" a plaintive love song sung
by Matt and Luisa, the main characters who love
each other. I admit that I was extremely jealous
of his leading lady back then. I can't even remember
her name now. I worked on props, costumes and
publicity.

I also held a cast party at my house that first
summer. My parents were on vacation in Florida
with my two youngest sisters. No, I didn't have
permission to have a party. But I was 19 years
old, my parents were away and hey, it's what
you do at that age. I had chaperones. A married
couple from England were in the area for a brief visit
so I invited them to the show and the party.
Prof. Jones, the male half of this couple,
had been a visiting geography professor
the previous year at SUNY Potsdam. He and his wife,
Barbara had only been in Potsdam for one year. I took
his class, and then kept in touch when they returned
to England.

I didn't see anything wrong with inviting a few friends
over to meet them, celebrating the closing of the play
and stocking the fridge with a few six packs.
Well, I did know that it was wrong. But I was 19
and sure that I wouldn't be caught. Did I mention
that alcohol was never allowed in our home? Imagine
the drama, and my personal ethical dilemma,
when my parents returned home two days
early during this party. I don't think there has ever
been a more dramatically complex moment in my life.
I have blocked out most of the details - except for how
I sent those six packs home with the guests and
thanked them for bringing them in the first place.
They looked at me like I was crazy and I insisted
that they take home what they had brought. No
way was I going to get busted for buying beer as
well as having an unauthorized party. Need I
remind you readers, I was 19. The drinking age
was 18 back then - so at least I hadn't broken any
laws - just my parents' rules.

Mom and Dad discouraged my theater
work after that. I insisted that others had
brought the beer and little had been consumed.
I pleaded for mercy because Barbara and Arthur
were both adult chaperones and nothing bad
happened. I cleaned the house. I tried to make
amends. And I was back in the troupe by the
next summer.

Trent played the lead in George Kaufman's and
Moss Hart's "You Can't Take It With You." No
music in this one. This time we had little money and
lots of laughs. I worked on props and costumes
again. No cast party. I learned my lesson.
And my parents stayed home the whole summer
anyway..

My theater career ended temporarily when Trent
and I broke up and I went to live in France. When
I returned to this country, I spent a quiet summer
working before returning to Potsdam for my senior
year. I had an evening French class. It was a
small and intimate class. We often went to a
place called "Station for Steak" - a local eatery -
to socialize after class. There was also an English
literature class which let out at the same time. The
professor knew two of the people in my class and
he often joined us for our social hour. Before the end of the
semester, we were all invited to the wedding of the
man who owned the restaurant. The reception was
at the "Station for Steak" with live music. The English
Professor asked me to dance. He was a very good dancer.

Turns out, he was also involved in the local theater
group, The Potsdam Community Theater. He was
starring in their production of "The Melodrama."
I can't remember who wrote this one. Bill, the
English Professor overplayed the villain's role as
was befitting this predictable tale of woe where the
innocent young maiden is rescued from the wiles
of the villain by a handsome young hero. I didn't
actually work on this play. I did attend all of its
performances.

Bill and I ended up getting married. We worked
on productions of "Come Back, Little Sheba"
and "Damn Yankees." I actually made the chorus
line in Damn Yankess - as well as working on props,
publicity and costumes. Those are good memories.

Stephanie, another member of the Potsdam
troupe, and I made annual pilgrimages to NYC
to see at least one Broadway show each year.
I got to see Harvey Korman in Plaza Suite, the
first run of Chorus Line and The Wiz, an unforgettable
tour of the Metropolitan Opera House and a
lecture by Bob Fosse. It's been a long time since
those NYC trips. Today's performance brought
them all back.

My daughter, Fran ended up being a theater major.
I was amazed at her talent in a high school play
where she played a character similar to Anne Frank.
I can't remember the name of the play. She had been
memorizing lyrics since she was three. One of her
favorites is "A Charlie Brown Christmas." I think she
knows the entire show by heart. I enjoyed travelling to
Niagara University to see her in college productions.
One of the best was "On a Clear Day You Can See Forever."
I also traveled to Prestonsburg, Kentucky to see
"Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid." She had arranged for
me to be the volunteer they called up on stage in the
last act to play "Heart and Soul" on the piano. She
was also in a few shows with the Grasse River Players
in Canton. And now we are both too busy to get
involved in any theater productions.

It takes hours and hours of hard work to learn a part,
to get all the scenes blocked out, get sponsors,
print posters and programs and do the publicity.
But there is no thrill like opening night, when the
overture plays, the house lights come up and the
performance is on. For many of us, this feeds our
souls in ways that nothing else does. I get to do
many mini-dramas as part of Vacation Bible School,
occasionally even a Sunday sermon. But I do dream
of retirement - and the luxury of having time to
join a theater group again. Being part of a show
is a soul nourishing adventure from the trembling
tryouts through the applause of the crowd
as the curtain comes down on the last performance.

Tribute to a Friend

The holiness and the hecticness of the last two weeks
has subsided. It is the Monday morning after Easter
and so far so good. A few phone calls to return but
enjoying the momentary calm and quiet. Two
funerals, Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday,
Sunrise service and the grand finale of Easter Sunday
celebrations including a Baptism/Confirmation
are officially behind me.

This week's main task is to sort through all the jokes
and funny stories I've collected and/or been given for
the past year. Some will be used as part of this
Sunday's Holy Humor liturgy. Long ago, Easter
Sunday through Bright Monday - which will be next Monday,
April 20th - these seven days after Easter were filled with
picnics and parties marked by joy and laughter as folks
stretched out the celebration of Jesus' Resurrection.
Practical jokes were normal and numerous for clergy and
laity alike. The rationale behind all this wholesome mischief
and mayhem was that God had played the biggest and best practical
joke of all time on the Devil by raising Jesus from the dead.
What better, more appropriate response than a week filled with
mirth and merriment?

I'm not exactly up to the mirth and merriment level
yet. I think a good long nap, absolute quiet and doing
absolutely nothing for a few hours is in order. There is
much to ponder. Time is needed to mull over the events
of the last two weeks and let their impact sink in. There
is one impending change which hangs like a cloud of
sadness as I plan next Sunday's fun.

Rev. Lauri Craig arrived in Phoenix about three months
before I arrived in Pennellville. We have worked well together
over these last six years - as colleagues, then confidantes,
and now good friends. What fun we have had planning something
new and different each year for the Down by the River Service!
What adventures we have had moving the service inside one
of the churches when the weather refused to cooperate. I worked
the desk while Lauri, Bob and the dogs did the CROP Walk
where we raised money for hunger - global and local. We did
our best to publicize each other's fundraisers and not have
two at the same time. For the most part, we succeeded.
We have shared leadership at worship services at Syracuse
Home, done a few funerals together and covered for each
other while away on vacation.

We were constantly trying to involve more of the community in
activities and projects sponsored by the Southern Oswego County
Council of Churches. Most have probably forgotten our first and
only community Thanksgiving dinner? It seemed like a good idea
at the time. Our "Heart to Heart" kit project (making kits for kids
for Church World Service to distribute at disaster sites) was a
resounding success though much more time consuming that we
had imagined. If you have ever attended the annual Youth Awards
banquet, you have heard one of us bless the food and one give the
Benediction. We were also part of the Baccalaureate service at
JCB each June. And each September 11th, we participated in the
Memorial Service at Henley Park.

There have been many meetings held over lunch at Larkin's and
other local eateries. We also discovered the luscious latte available
at the State Street Cafe. We have done a variety of things for Lent -
always taking a lead at the weekly lunches, sometimes sharing a study
group, frequently planning joint services for Holy Week. As we stood
behind the altar table on Maundy Thursday consecrating the elements for
Holy Communion, we realized that this would be our last service together.
It was a sad realization.

We have been there for each other when our mothers' died. We have
both appreciated working with Doug and Gordon Tappan on way too many
funerals these past six years. We share prayer concerns and pray for
each other's parishioners on a regular basis. Sometimes we've even been
able to visit each other's people in hospitals and nursing homes.

It is hard to say good-bye to what has been a huge part of our
relationship - providing pastoral care and spiritual leadership
for the Phoenix community. We have worked together easily and
can look back on many, many collaborative worship experiences
which hopefully have been spiritually nourishing for those
who attended. I will miss working with Pastor Lauri. We have
weathered many seasons together. And now, as it says in
Ecclesiastes 3, "there is a time to weep,and a time to laugh."
It will be time for both in the two weeks ahead. Though
Sunday, April 26th will be Pastor Lauri's last Sunday as my
colleague in ministry here in Phoenix, I thank God that it
will not be our last day as friends. But the 26th will bring tears.

Here's an email contribution which will hopefully bring
laughter on the 19th, Holy Humor Sunday. My apologies to
blondes everywhere, including my sister Andrea.

The True Meaning of Easter in Canada

Three blondes died and found themselves standing before St. Peter.

He told them that before they could enter the Kingdom,
they had to tell him what Easter represented.

The first blonde, a American, said "Easter is a holiday
where they have a big feast. We give thanks and eat turkey."

St. Peter said, "Noooooo" and he banished her to Hell.

The second blonde who was British said, "Easter is when we
celebrate Jesus' birth and exchange gifts."

St. Peter said, "Noooooo" and he banished her to Hell.

The third blonde, a Canadian, said she knew what Easter was,
and St. Peter said, "So, tell me."

She said, "Easter is a Christian holiday that coincides
with the Jewish festival of Passover. Jesus was having Passover
feast with His disciples when He was betrayed by Judas, and the
Romans arrested Him. He was nailed to a cross where he died. Then
they buried Him in a tomb behind and sealed the entry with a very
large stone."

St Peter said, "Very Good.'

Then the blonde continued, "Now, every year the Jews roll away
the stone and Jesus comes out. If he sees his shadow, we have six more
weeks of hockey."

St. Peter fainted

A time to laugh? Or a time to weep?

Plenty to Fear?

March 24, 2009

Spiritually Speaking

Plenty to Fear?

I am putting pen to paper on Tuesday,
March 24, 2009 at 9:00 a.m. A few
of today's headlines are:

-More Madoff Assets Found
-Biggest Rally on Stock Market in 4 Months
-Furor over AIG Bonuses
-$50 Million of AIG Bonuses Returned
-$9 Trillion Debt in our Future?
-NATO Troops Kill Afghan Driver
-North Korea Reasserts Right to Satellite Launch
-Youth in Court over Killing in Northern Ireland
-Kurdish Rebels Won't Stop Fighting in Iraq
-Missing Woman's Body Found in Antwerp, NY
-Health Insurance Squeezes U.S. workers
-What We're Splurging and Skimping on Right Now
-Blizzard Shuts Down Parts
of Wyoming and South Dakota

Large corporations are laying people off daily.
Small businesses are floundering. Unemployment is
rising. The fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan continues
to keep our troops in harm's way. The coffins
continue to come home. Closer to our communities,
crimes and violence pepper the evening local news.
Granted, there are glimmers of hope - the bonuses
being voluntarily returned by AIG employees and the
rally in the Stock Market, but for the average family
trying to make ends meet - often with one or both
parents unemployed or underemployed; for those
who are watching their retirement nest eggs shrinking,
their investments dwindling, or even
disappearing all together - along with those who
feel the pinch more intensely each day as they fall
further and further behind on fixed incomes- the future
can look bleak and frighteningly hopeless.

Many people draw comparisons to
The Great Depression. Will this or won't it turn
into a second Great Depression? There are similarities:
unequal distribution of wealth, excessive speculation
on the Stock Market, and bank failures. While not
exactly the same causes and/or consequences, it is
similar enough to raise fear and anxiety. Hopefully, we
can glean good knowledge from those Depression years
and thereby avoid the most dire consequences of the thirties
as we face today's economic crisis.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt set in motion the New Deal.
It's measures put homeless, hungry, unemployed men
to work on construction and conservation projects across
the country. There are many alive today who can point
with pride to projects they helped to build or forests they
helped to plant. Eleanor Roosevelt, frustrated because the New
Deal did not help women, set in motion her own New
Deal for the homeless, hungry and unemployed women
of the day. Both Roosevelt's received plenty of criticism for
their attempts to restart the economy. Until their measures
kicked in and the economy turned around, there was
a high level of fear and anxiety for the average American,
suspicion and skepticism about the President's actions
and our country's future.

It took FDR four hours to draft his 1933 inaugural speech.
His words offer as much encouragement and support
today as they did when he first spoke them.

This great nation will endure as it has endured, will revive
and will prosper. Let me assert my firm belief that the
only thing we have to fear is fear itself- nameless,
unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyses
needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.

H.W. Brands, author of A Traitor to His Class:
The Privileged and Radical Presidency of Franklin Delano Roosevelt
observes:

Before long this line about having to fear only fear would be hailed
as a landmark of presidential rhetoric. At the time it didn't seem so...
not the least since it was patently false. Americans had plenty to fear....

By 1933, one quarter of all American workers were unemployed.
Thousands were underemployed. Five thousand banks had failed.
The Stock Market had lost 75% of its value. A half million home
mortgages had been foreclosed. Without property taxes, municipal
governments and even public schools were ailing and failing. Many
staunchly refused any government relief. Those who accepted it found
it was, at best, inadequate but better than nothing. A tide of
homelessness swept the country. The birth rate fell by one third.

Americans had plenty to fear starting with massive unemployment,
widespread hunger and a collapsing financial system. Yet coming from
one who had just survived an assassination attempt following a decade
long battle with polio, it struck a reassuring tone.

Roosevelt's reassurance about fear did not make the headlines the next
day. His attack on the money changers of the day did. People wanted
to know that the President was taking action. They needed to see justice
coming to the greedy ones who had created the crisis. The newspapers
read:

Roosevelt assailed the unscupulous money changers of Wall Street
as those responsible for America's plight. He said, "Plenty is at our
doorstep but a generous use of it languishes in the very sight of the supply.

...Yes, the money changers have fled from their high seats in the temple
of our civilization. We may now restore that temple to the ancient truths.
The measure of that restoration lies in the extent to which we apply social
values more noble than mere monetary profit. ...Our greatest primary task
is to put people to work."

Today his words about the only fear we have to fear being fear itself
is what we remember. Good words. Sound sentiment. But we,
like those who lived through the Depression era, have plenty to fear.
Unfortunately fear will paralyze us in the past, or at best in the present
moment. Or we can face that fear and find our faith. Faith that we can
work for good, faith that the good we do will make a difference - that
is what will move us into the future with hope. Fear holds hope hostage.
Faith frees it. Fear hoards things, makes us look out only for ourselves.
Faith frees us to share whatever we have, committed to improving the quality
of life for as many as possible - not just for ourselves.

President Roosevelt appealed to the people for a unified
support of his leadership. He knew that there would be
criticism no matter what he tried to do. He also recognized
the dire needs of the nation and did what he could to
alleviate the homelessness, hunger and unemployment.
He learned from his own mistakes. We can look back and
learn - from what worked and what did not.

We must face our fear, then wade through it and climb out
of fear to stand on the solid ground of hope, committed to
walking forward with faith - faith that we can do good, that
the good we do will make a difference - and even the mistakes
we make will provide valuable learning - for us - for all future
generations.

Only a foolish optimist can deny the dark realities of the
moment. And yet our distress comes from no failure
of substance. We are stricken by no plagues of locusts.
Compared with the perils which our forefathers conquered,
because they believed and were not afraid, we have still
much to be thankful for. ...Plenty is at our
doorstep but a generous use of it languishes in the
very sight of the supply.

Look Down, Spring Has Sprung!

On Mon, 3/16/09, Connie wrote:

Monday, March 16, 2009, 12:26 PM
Rev. Connie Seifert
527 County Route 54
Pennellville, NY 13132
cseifert@twcny.rr.com

March 16, 2009

Spiritually Speaking

There are super streamlined, stripped down, fairly highly
evolved critters who will be appearing on the scene any
moment now. The first one you see is a guarantee
that spring is truly here. Simple and slippery,
they have played a major role in the history of
the world. In fact, the world would not be what
it is today if they were not doing their thing all
over the world. Do you know what silent, almost
unnoticed creature I'm talking about?

There are 23 families, 700 genera and 7000 species.
They range in size from one inch to two yards long.
On one acre of land, they are known to plow up,
ingest and eliminate 16-30 thousand pounds of
soil. There may be as many as eight million of
them in this one acre. Their tunnels prepare
the ground for crop roots, aid in water circulation and keep
the soil supplied with pockets of oxygen. They feed
on the bacteria and fungi in the soil, digest it and then
excrete it as rich topsoil. Their poop is rich in nitrogen,
calcium, magnesium and phosphorous. The grass truly
is greener wherever they are living. They are a blessing to
gardeners, farmers, landscapers and those who do a lot
of fishing.

They have no bones but they do have quite complex muscles.
They hug the ground with one end, pull along the
other end which then hugs the ground so that the
front end can stretch out again, repeating this
process for as long as they live. They can be long
and slender one minute and look like a little grayish
brown super ball the next.

They have no eyes but they have light sensitive cells.
They are also sensitive to touch and chemicals (which
some of us shudder to remember from High School biology
labs.) Their brains control their movements and
their ability to detect light. If their brain is removed
however, their behavior does not visibly change. They have
no lungs. Oxygen passes through their skin.
They have five hearts. I have no idea why.
Between their hearts are glands which process
the excessive amounts of calcium they ingest
with all the dirt they eat. They are both male
and female at the same time. Their reproductive
antics are fully described on this web page:
http://www.backyardnature.net/earthwrm.htm
They are much too x-rated for this column.

Most of us collected them when we were children.
They would come out by the hundreds after a
rainstorm. The biggest and fattest
ones called night crawlers were prized by
people going fishing. They make great bait.

As long as they remain underground, they are
safe from predators but pesticides can do them
in along with killing the weeds. Once they surface,
birds and other small mammals may make a meal
of them. And we, pluck them up to feed to
the fish. The jury is still out as to whether or not
their burrowing enables pollutants to enter into
ground water. Their beneficial disposal of bacteria
and fungi enriching the surface soil is invaluable for
farmers, gardeners and those who prize a lush, green lawn.

You can even buy them for indoor/outdoor composting
all year round. They will eat your garbage and give
you a nutrient rich compost to use in the garden.
I've been toying with the idea of purchasing them for
years. These composting worms are called Red
Wigglers. You can buy 500 of them for about $30.
This spring may be the year I actually order them.

The geese have been hogging the limelight this
past week as a sign of spring's arrival. Spring begins
on Thursday just before you will read this column.
It has been hard to miss the geese. They are noisy
and numerous. The snow geese were in Pennellville
on Saturday the 14th of March. I missed them this year.
But Rich didn't and he shared his sighting with me before church
yesterday. During worship, the pasture next to the
church was filled with Canadian geese. They left before
the last hymn. I don't think they were paying much attention
to the sermon either. But, now that spring is officially here,
instead of looking up to see more flocks of returning geese,
look down at the ground in the hopes of spotting an earthworm or two.
Once they come out into the sun, winter is officially
over and spring is officially sprung. Let the planting begin!
Thank God for earthworms!

Dotty shared during our Joys and Concerns that her
crocuses were already up. Mine are still buried under
five feet of snow. I will be watching for the first robin
to hop across the lawn. I've ordered a basket of pansies
for Easter which will then need to find a permanent home
in my flower bed. And now, I will be watching and waiting
to see my first earthworm of 2009. I'll let you know if
I find the courage to order the Red Wigglers. Happy Spring!



Some of the above facts were also gleaned from:
http://soils.usda.gov/sqi/concepts/soil_biology/earthworms.html
http://www.planetnatural.com/site/red-wiggler-worms.html


With Angels' Whispers,Connie

When the love of power is overcome
by the power of love,
then we will have peace.
Jimi Hendrix (actually he just
sang this - now I can't remember
who actually said it.)

Easter Eggs

Do you have happy memories of
coloring Easter eggs? Is this activity
still part of your Easter preparations?
Alas, it is no longer part of mine. But I
still have many blown out eggs which
Fran and I decorated in years gone by.
They are packed away somewhere.
Many have loops of thread and buttons
so that they could adorn a naked
branch brought in from the outdoors
in early spring. We had as many
Easter decorations as we did for
Christmas.

Throughout the year, we would
painstakingly prick a hole in both
ends of the eggs used for baking
or scrambled eggs for breakfast.
Blowing the insides out of the eggs
required tremendous lung power.
It was worth the effort. The eggs
accumulated until we had two dozen
or more to color just before Easter.
Of course, we had to do at least a
dozen hard boiled eggs as well.
One can never have too many eggs
when it is time to decorate them.

The containers which held the dye
had to be just right - deep enough
to cover the entire egg with color.
We had a set of Corning cups which
worked like a charm. Included in with
the dye, there were always those wax crayons
and paste on decals to add to the creative
fun. We had a special tray where
the eggs could dry. It was always
a highlight of Lent, coloring those
Easter eggs and anticipating the
jelly beans and chocolate which
would magically appear on Easter
morning - BEFORE Sunrise worship.

At one point in our Christian history
it was believed that eggs boiled on
Good Friday, if kept for one hundred
years, the yolk would be transformed
into a diamond. There are no known
diamonds actually created this way
but it is an interesting theory.

Supposedly, if Good Friday laid eggs
were cooked on Easter, they were
believed to promote the fertility of
a farmer's trees and crops. They
were also said to prevent sudden death.

If you found two yolks in an egg on
Easter, it meant you would soon be
rich. Since I've never found an egg
with two yolks on Easter - nor do I
know anyone who has, I cannot
vouch for or against the truth of this
traditional belief.

In the early years of the observance
of Lent - the forty days and nights
preceeding Easter minus Sundays
which are considered mini-Easters -
both eggs and meat were forbidden.
This may be where the whole Pancake
Tuesday tradition got its start. Folks
had to use up all the eggs in the house
before the sun set on Ash Wednesday.

The egg itself has always been a
symbol of Christ's Resurrection - his
rising from the dead on Easter morning,
an empty tomb proving that he was
not dead. Egg rolling contests are
based on the act of rolling away the stone
blocking the entrance to the tomb
on Easter morning to discover that it
was empty. The most famous Egg Rolling
Contest takes place on the White House lawn each year.
President Obama's daughters, Malie and Sasha
are probably excited about their first one.
Wonder if they get to color Easter eggs?

Some believe that eggs made their way
into our Christian Easter celebration by
way of Pagan customs. This may or
may not be true. There are many creation
stories in other cultures where the
entire world comes from a single egg.

But the egg has been part of the Passover
since the earliest times recorded in the
Bible. It is dipped in salt water to remind
us, as we eat it, of the tears cried by the
Hebrew people when they were slaves in
Egypt. In the Passover meal, as it is in
our current customs, the egg was a sign
of new life associated with spring - a season
when the world comes back to life after
the winter rest.

I cannot wait to see the crocuses pop their
purple and gold blossoms into the world.
This has been a long, hard winter. I will
be watching for the tulips and daffodils
to add their delightful colors to the world
once more. I'm already planning this
year's crop of sunflowers. I won't be
coloring Easter eggs, but the memories
of doing so always come to mind when
we begin that count down to Easter morning.
I pray that all the snow is gone before
our joyful Easter celebration begins!
From my lips to God's ears.