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Sermon - 06-14-2015 - Cutting the Mustard
MARK 4:26-34
Last month I lost five giants. Not the kind that say “Fee, fie, foe, fum”, although that kind does smell the blood of Englishmen, and so it’s always a relief to rid the world of one of those. No these were gentle giants. They don’t galumph through the countryside, swinging clubs and climbing beanstalks. Truth be told they are not the hugest of giants. They were not the gigantic giants that live in California that almost touch the sky. These were smaller giants, but still way taller than me. Two years ago my son Rob and I met the giantest giant of all. He is called General Sherman, and he is in Sequoia National Park. He towered over us. 275 feet over us, to be precise. He is the largest tree (by volume) in the world, and the largest living thing on the dry land of God’s good earth. My giants were only 25 feet tall and they were only thirty years old. That’s what their rings told me, because giants have rings that talk. But giants don’t talk as loudly as the technology that brings light, heat, knowledge and entertainment to human beings, and so because my giants threatened to damage PP and L’s electric cables, they had to go, even though it would still be several years before any of them got within ten feet of the cables.
I guess it made economic sense to destroy them now, while the foresters were in my neighborhood. Efficiency required it. There was no rite of passage to mark their eparture from God’s earth. No funeral was conducted with teary family and mourning community. Just a leaflet through my door, a courtesy phone call, and that was it. I came home one day and my giants were gone. I don’t even know where the bodies were taken, or what use they are being put to. I read on Wikipedia that hemlocks make good pulp which later can give life to paper. Knowledge, art, wisdom. That would be a good end. To be reborn as a book that educates a child, who grows up to invent a cure for cancer, or develop a strain of plant that brings food security to the entire world. Or becomes the canvass for breathtaking art, or a manuscript for inspiring music. Maybe the tissue that dries the eyes of the heart-broken, or the napkin on which is written the great love song. Then my giants.......
Read the full Sermon here: http://s3.amazonaws.com/dfc_attachments/public/documents/3208531/20150614_Cutting_the_mustard.
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By The Rev. Dr. Duncan H. Johnston, RectorMARK 4:26-34
Last month I lost five giants. Not the kind that say “Fee, fie, foe, fum”, although that kind does smell the blood of Englishmen, and so it’s always a relief to rid the world of one of those. No these were gentle giants. They don’t galumph through the countryside, swinging clubs and climbing beanstalks. Truth be told they are not the hugest of giants. They were not the gigantic giants that live in California that almost touch the sky. These were smaller giants, but still way taller than me. Two years ago my son Rob and I met the giantest giant of all. He is called General Sherman, and he is in Sequoia National Park. He towered over us. 275 feet over us, to be precise. He is the largest tree (by volume) in the world, and the largest living thing on the dry land of God’s good earth. My giants were only 25 feet tall and they were only thirty years old. That’s what their rings told me, because giants have rings that talk. But giants don’t talk as loudly as the technology that brings light, heat, knowledge and entertainment to human beings, and so because my giants threatened to damage PP and L’s electric cables, they had to go, even though it would still be several years before any of them got within ten feet of the cables.
I guess it made economic sense to destroy them now, while the foresters were in my neighborhood. Efficiency required it. There was no rite of passage to mark their eparture from God’s earth. No funeral was conducted with teary family and mourning community. Just a leaflet through my door, a courtesy phone call, and that was it. I came home one day and my giants were gone. I don’t even know where the bodies were taken, or what use they are being put to. I read on Wikipedia that hemlocks make good pulp which later can give life to paper. Knowledge, art, wisdom. That would be a good end. To be reborn as a book that educates a child, who grows up to invent a cure for cancer, or develop a strain of plant that brings food security to the entire world. Or becomes the canvass for breathtaking art, or a manuscript for inspiring music. Maybe the tissue that dries the eyes of the heart-broken, or the napkin on which is written the great love song. Then my giants.......
Read the full Sermon here: http://s3.amazonaws.com/dfc_attachments/public/documents/3208531/20150614_Cutting_the_mustard.