Below is a message delivered by ESR student Martin Melville at Williamsburg Friends on Sunday, April 14, 2013:
On several occasions, F/friends have expressed surprise when
I told them I am a logger and that I find logging to be deeply spiritual work.
How, they ask, can it possibly be spiritual when you’re out there raping and
pillaging Creation? The question itself belies a limited understanding of resource
management. The fact that they can ask
such a question earnestly has led to introspection on my part to try to
understand specifically what it is about this work that is so deeply spiritual,
and how I might try to explain. Perhaps equally important is the fact that the
decisions of landowners, the public, and my peers in the forest products
industry can all have either positive or negative influences on the
environment. Our current social fabric encourages us to pick a position based
on whatever information we have gleaned from sources we deem credible. For
whatever reason, we tend not to seek opinions or positions or people that don’t
agree with what we have established as our worldview. One result is that many
well intentioned positions actually degrade the environment. Ignorance is no
excuse. For example, opposition to clearcuts (gasp!) results in subtle (or not
so subtle) changes in the species of trees that grow in the forest, which
affects the animals that can live there (no food or shelter, no animals). Oops.
This work is stewardship. A steward is one who cares for and
is responsible someone or something. Practiced
correctly, and I must emphasize correctly, logging is the implementation of
forestry, essentially where the rubber meets the road in stewardship of God’s
creation. It is a weighty commission. Forestry is driven by silviculture,
analogous to agriculture for farming, but more complex because of the many
amenity values forests provide compared to crop fields. Its essence, though, is
to mimic what occurs naturally in nature. Water stays clean. Animals have food
and shelter. Carbon is sequestered and oxygen is produced. Trees die and let
light in to the forest floor. Sometimes storms blow down large swaths of
forest. Seeds germinate and grow into trees. Through management it is possible
to more or less double the amount of merchantable wood on a plot of ground over
a given amount of time. Out of all of this, it is possible to garner, to
harvest, some amount of both timber and non-timber products which we as a
society need and use in increasing quantities every day.
Work is a great way to experience the Presence. Consider
Brother Lawrence, a 7th century monk who found it easiest to be
aware of the presence of God while performing “menial” tasks. Among his
favorite places was the monastery kitchen, doing the dishes. Brother Lawrence’s
experience lacked the intense physical exertion which can be a great framework
for deep meditation. Anything that requires concentration can serve to bring us
into awareness of God near us: kayaking, mountain biking, working out at the
gym, running…logging. One could refer to it as intensely physical meditation.
Any kind of work where the product of your work can be seen
at the end of the day gives a sense of accomplishment, gratitude and thanks.
The typical logging job is large enough that it won’t be completed in a day, or
even a week. You come to understand that those trees will still be there in the
morning, waiting for you. Forestry works on an even longer time frame: often
what you do today will not be yours to complete. Trees grow, but a tree planted
today may take 80 years to be harvestable, I’ll not be around to see it.
It becomes apparent that what is important is the outcome,
not so much how it was arrived at. I often say that if I learned nothing else
from Geometry in school, I learned that there is more than one way to prove a
theorem. The same is true for work. As long as safety and care for the
environment are observed, I allow employees (almost) complete freedom in how
they perform a task. In general, it is also helpful if each person tries to
make the work the next will perform, a little easier. For example, there is
usually a range of about ninety degrees in the direction a tree can be felled.
The feller should choose the direction that will facilitate taking the tree to
where it can be picked up by the truck, while minimizing damage to trees that
will remain. Job descriptions are fluid. Ultimately they all boil down to the
same one: in Pennsylvania-speak “if it needs done, do it.” To extrapolate to
life, a range of solutions is usually available for any given problem. In most
cases, we can be intentional in making our actions so that they make the life
of those who follow, a little easier. If you see a place you can help, part of
being faithful is acting instead of just watching.
A third, multifaceted, way logging is spiritual is the
direct experience, the immanence of God. I believe, and experience that God is
everywhere. I take the perhaps old fashioned approach that we are to worship
the Creator, not the creation, (Romans) though I have come to understand that
this is perhaps a narrower interpretation of the Presence than other religions,
for example most eastern wisdom traditions and many aboriginal ones as well. One
aspect of this approach is that God is accessible at all times. You could call
it God wifi. Answers are just a prayer away. If we choose to be aware of it, we
are constantly bathed in grace.
I became aware of that omnipresent grace at least in part
because of the inherently hazardous nature of the work. Even a piece of branch
2 feet long and 2-3 inches in diameter has enough force to kill a person when
it falls from a sufficient height. Every day, every action, every night you get
to go home, all of life becomes a gift. Life in the woods is dangerous. I once
provided some OSHA inspectors with felling instruction. They commented that all
the branches and vines and other tripping hazards wouldn’t be tolerated on a
factory floor, but out here they’re part of the job. You can get clobbered by a
springpole, a small tree bent into a
tight arc packs a tremendous amount of energy. If you cut it off and you’re in
the wrong place, it’s boom boom. Out go the lights. Trees can roll. They can
sling debris back toward the stump as they brush past other trees on their way
to the ground. If you can imagine it, it can probably happen.
One of the early safety workshops I participated in used an
analogy to drive home the point of risk and grace. “I have a bottle of 300
pills. Thirty of them will make you sick. Would you take one?” The instructor
asked. The guys hemmed and hawed. “Yeah, maybe,” someone ventured. “OK” said
the instructor. “I have the same bottle of 300 pills, only one of them will
kill you. Do you still want one?” He asked the fellow who had volunteered
earlier. “No way!” was the response. The 300 represent the number of close
calls where there is no injury. The thirty represent the chances that the close
call will result in an injury (1:10). And the one represents the chances that
the close call will be your last. God tries to get our attention. He tries to
get us to change our ways. If close calls don’t do it, sometimes an accident
will wake us up. We are given many opportunities to see what is in front of us.
If we’re faithful, attentive, (some would call it lucky), we recognize that tap
on the shoulder and have an ah-ha moment.
Another place I became aware of grace is in recognizing just
how frail, how ephemeral our earthly bodies are. As mentioned above, we can be
killed by a small piece of falling branch. If you’re hit, you just crumple onto
the ground in a heap, like the wicked witch of the west when Dorothy throws
water on her. Then there is the dawning of the knowledge of how physically weak
we are. That is the extent of the earthly power we possess. I can maybe lift 150-200 pounds. In the power
of the Lord, I can move mountains. All things are possible in the presence of
God’s grace.
If you spend time in nature, you know that it is easy to see
God at work in the order of things and all around you, the essence of
transcendence. It ranges from the intricate beauty of a Queen Anne’s lace plant
to bird songs to…anything you see, smell, hear, touch, the presence is all
around you. It is revealing to me to observe the difference between human
notions of order and God’s order, the way nature looks before we’ve interfered.
The woods is neat. So is the thicket. Every twig has its place. On the one
hand, God is immanent: present at this very moment. On the other hand, God is
transcendent, over-arching, one might say detached.
In his book The Company of Strangers, Parker Palmer states
“Faith is a venture into the unknown, into the realms of mystery, away from the
safe and comfortable and secure.” That
is the basis of this way of life. In this business model you don’t know what a
load of logs is worth until the check comes in the mail. We pay for the trees
before we know if they are solid or rotten. We live in a world where work can
be suspended for as much as several weeks while the frost comes out of the
ground. Equipment is cranky. Employees and managers are human. We are, even as
the children of God, flawed individuals. All we can do is our best. Sometimes
things don’t work out the way we had planned. We pick ourselves up, dust
ourselves off, get our bearings and go for plan “B.” Uncertainty and change are
the only things you can count on. You learn the risks and hazards. Part of life
with this bottle of pills is learning to recognize which ones will make you
sick (injured) and what to do about it. What is the antidote? You very actively
and intentionally problem solve, and if you’re smart (faithful), you invite God
into the process. If you’re lucky, you survive unscathed to practice on your
own another day. You learn to live on faith that way will open, that you’ll
come home at the end of the day, that the bills will be paid, that there’ll be
a roof over your head and food on the table.
Surprises are rarely good in this business, or at least what
we usually call good. You learn to listen to that still, small voice. Take the
best shot. The outcome isn’t good or bad, it just is. Now, what’s your next
move? I’ve said it’s like being parachuted onto a desert isle, or into the
jungle. You are here. You have 2 matches and a piece of rope….how will you
adapt? How will you use what is present to accomplish your ends? Can you see
parallels with the Kingdom? How will you use your life and work for the glory
of God? As with ministry, it often takes time to be able to see the real
effects. Thirty few years ago I was hit by a tree. I got a cracked cheekbone
and a dislocated hip out of the deal. The same day, another fellow cutting
firewood (I was logging, which is different) was killed, not too far down the
same mountain I was working on. It was a very similar accident. The hip is
becoming arthritic. I could wish I hadn’t had the accident, but it had a huge
effect on who I became and the direction of my career. To say it was bad, I
think would be wrong. It was interactive, like reality. Which of us was lucky
and which was unlucky is not ours to judge. Every choice we make opens new ones
and eliminates others. In the end we must learn patience and forbearance. As a
friend told me, “In retrospect, life is a series of serendipitous events. When
we are in the thick of it, we lack perspective.” In the end we will see
clearly.
Further evidence of the immanence of God is experienced through
experimentation and revelation. In order for them to be effective, openness to
new, different, unconsidered or unconventional answers to prayers is necessary.
It has been my observation that all prayers are answered, it’s just that
sometimes the answer isn’t what we expect or want. The result sometimes is that
we miss it completely. Moses questioned God. Jacob wrestled with Him. God is
patient. Part of the continuing dialogue with Her is this ever present “why?” I could think that I am to Her like a
2-year old to a parent. We stray. We try, but frequently don’t succeed on our
first try. Sometimes we disobey and get in trouble, but like the prodigal son,
we are always allowed to return to the safety of the Parent. Sometimes I think
there is an expectation of being questioned, that If I’m not asking why,
perhaps something is wrong. Certainly, as mentioned above, I have observed
growth resulting from events at least initially judged by me as either good or
bad. I’ve learned to suspend judgment. The reaction is more like “well now
Lord, that’s not quite what I had in mind, but OK. I can work with that. Ours
is to do, to be, not to judge. Leave the judging to God. My job is to live
faithfully. That is the essence of righteousness. It is important not to get
hung up on form, as the elders at Balby noted in 1656. If the goal is to “git
‘er done” in the words of Ron White, we find that in the Kingdom the shortest
way there is the long way around. Shortest can be understood as “best,” but
best in the Kingdom is often directly opposed to best as perceived by
humankind. Much of life in the Presence is, or appears to be, counterintuitive
from the our perspective. To paraphrase, the riches of heaven are different
from what is portrayed as earthly riches.
Around 1990, I read Fox’s Journal. In it, he says often
“this I knew experimentally.” So I decided to try various aspects of exploring
faith experimentally. It is important to understand that whether I am felling
(cutting down) a tree or driving a log skidder or forwarding logs out of the
woods, there are times when intense attention to the matters immediately at
hand is essential. That intensity made it relatively easy to practice living in
the moment. What has happened is in the past and is immaterial. What will
happen isn’t here yet. It’s all about NOW!
However, such times are interspersed with relatively long periods where nothing
much is going on: I’m sawing or driving. Lots of noise, not much action. Among
the first things I tried was to live Paul’s injunction to pray without ceasing.
During those “quiet” times of sawing or driving I could pray. At first I was
skeptical, but I kept at it. I found that the idea of centering and worshiping
wasn’t limited to Sunday morning, and ministry wasn’t only something spoken
from a pulpit. The practice of enlisting God’s help and direction didn’t need
to be, and in fact shouldn’t be limited to meeting for business. It was
available to me as I lived and worked. I
learned to live integrity. Not only
was the business a ministry, the concept expanded to include every area of my
life. I came to understand my work and the way
I ran my business to be a witness to my faith, and that it bore visible fruit.
I came to understand that chainsaws and machines and the petty aggravations of
life are outward noise and need not necessarily interfere with the audibility
of the inward Teacher. At times the lessons were fleeting. At others they
lasted for several months. I sought to learn to listen and be given an
understanding of others’ perspectives. That took about six months. I sought
patience. I sought the ability to forgive as Jesus instructed we should. I
practiced lectio divina on the Lord’s prayer. “Thy will…” I rolled it over and
over on my tongue. In my mind. Thy will, not
mine, be done. Submit. Acknowledge who’s in charge here. Give praise in ALL things to the creator, for the
praise is His. The work my hands do is His work. My strength is finite. His is
not. In every one of these cases my prayer, my conversation with God was answered.
There were times when the answer was “not now,” or “that is not for you to
know.” I knew when to quit pushing; I had faith that if I was to know, it would
be revealed.
I do not wish to pretend that this philosophy is the norm
for my peers. It is my hope that this short epistle has given you a glimpse
into the ways logging can be (and is for me) a deeply spiritual way to care for
God’s creation, earn a living, and witness to His glory.
Openness to new ideas. Redirection. There is no God.
ReplyDeleteVery good ideas -- hanks for sharing! As someone whose family owns a maple sugar business and a number of woodlots, I identify with a lot of what you're saying. We mainly cut selectively, but sometimes clear-cut an area to encourage new growth. Caring for our land this way allows a variety of wildlife to flourish. The modest income from these activities pays our taxes and allows us to keep the land for generations to come.
ReplyDeleteHey Martin, Thanks for this blog. Your thoughts brought to light the opportunities we have to 'worship' God beyond the confines of the sanctuary. One point, you may want to amend your definition of stewardship to include, "...one who cares for and is responsible for someone or something on behalf of someone else (generally the owner)" This definition gives us proper alignment with and orientation toward The Creator.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your thoughts.