On a beautiful Saturday evening in July, I joined a small gathering along the bank of the Fraser River for Vespers, an ancient evening prayer service.
After sunset, we walked to a nearby house and waited for a few neighbours to join us. Suddenly, a young girl pointed at the house shouting, “There’s one!” “There’s another,” someone giggled. “How many are in there?” wondered another in our small but widening circle. “At last count, there were 3,600 living in the attic,” replied Rev. Laurel Dykstra, the priest of Salal + Cedar, a community that helps people grow in love of place and commitment to eco-justice.
The Burvilla house on Deas Island is home to the largest maternal bat colony in B.C. For two decades the colony of mostly Yuma and Little brown bats (an endangered species) have coexisted in the heritage home along with the caretaker.
Many refer to the mass extinction of species driven by human activity over the past 500 years as the Anthropocene. How do we live, work, and worship at a time when at least 100 species go extinct every day?
Through his teaching, compassion, and hospitality, Jesus invites us to widen our understanding of neighbour and kinship. Following Jesus’ expansive trajectory, can we see the animals among us not as pests to eradicate, but as neighbours to love? As the sun sets on the world as we know it, instead of putting our heads in the sand or looking to future technology to save us, might we take a moment to look up in wonder?
