Photo by Vyacheslav Stepanyuchenko, Wikimedia Commons
Alpine Lily
This beautiful lily is one of the fragile alpine flowers that grow on the slopes of the Abkhazia mountains in Russia at about 1,200-1,500 meters above the sea level.
High on the shoulders of New Hampshire’s Mount Washington one will find alpine vegetation. It is a spectacular sight, with rare plants and flowers clinging to life in one of the harshest environments in New England. I don’t think I truly appreciated it when I first saw it. We were careful, but hiking boots can do a lot of damage in an environment where it takes generations to maintain life. Now, I am told, when one hikes in this region, you will often encounter a sign, “Welcome to the Alpine Zone. Please stay on the trail. Help preserve this fragile vegetation. It’s a tough place to grow.”
As I reflect on the insight of this admonition, I find myself wondering if there may be an image here that is useful to the church as it struggles to find its way in the 21st century. The world is a tough place to be in ministry these days, and, when it comes to ministry, strength and vitality is an elusive thing to measure and assess. “Please stay on the trail. Help preserve this fragile vegetation. It’s a tough place to grow.”
“It’s a tough place to grow.” The typical alpine growing season is less than three months. That means alpine plants spend more than nine months just surviving, staving off the harsh cold and wind until the next short growing season. From the very beginning Christianity survived best in a hostile environment. It was forced to put down roots, adapt to it’s circumstances, stay faithful to its essential identity. Growth was about how faithful the people were - nothing more, nothing less. Christianity was born in a tough place to grow, but in time, through a witness of love and compassion and just mercy, the rest of the world began to notice the beauty of the faithful.
“Help preserve this fragile vegetation.” Alpine flowers have a delicate beauty - some do not even produce their first bloom for many years. Trees in the alpine zone are a testament to tenacity, clinging for life, their growth measured by millimeters per year. A careless step, if it does not destroy, can set the plant back for years. The church today has entered a fragile period in its life. We could blame outside forces for the decline, but frankly I’m more concerned about inside forces that have become inattentive to the beauty that has been inherited and have carelessly trampled on what has taken years to create. We who are surrounded by “a great cloud of witnesses” are called to preserve this sacred inheritance.
“Please stay on the trail.” Those who care about the beauty of the alpine zone accept as their responsibility to preserve it so others may enjoy what it has to offer. They have created a trail so that future generations may come to take delight in this treasure. In so doing they have invited each person who ventures along the trail to become a partner in its protection by joining the spirit of the place. Christians in every generation are called to remember that we are not the first ones to walk this path of faithfulness. “The people of the way,” as Christians were first called, have been warned that it is a narrow way. The faith that we have inherited is a “treasure in earthen vessels,” nurtured by loving kindness, doing justice and walking humbly with God, remembering that the power to do so comes from God, not us. It probably borders on hubris to think that one of us alone has the wisdom to create a new trail.
The climb to the alpine zone on Mount Washington is demanding and rewarding work, but when we come to the high places, we discover that the many who have come before have left a trail for us to follow and enjoy. When we stay on that trail, we are treated to an experience of uncommon beauty. When we stay on the trail, we make it possible for others to share that experience. It’s good counsel for the church and for people of faith today. Faithfulness today is demanding and rewarding work, but when we embrace the challenge, we discover that the many who have gone before us have offered to us a way. If we make the effort, and stay on the trail that those before us have created, the faith we have inherited will endure and continue to serve. In matters of faith, we are called to understand that the world we live in is a tough place to grow, and that it is now our responsibility to help preserve this fragile community. So, Please! Stay on the trail!
The Rev. F. Richard Garland is a retired clergy member of the New England Annual Conference.