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Story of Barrington Bunny
July 13, 2021
Barrington Bunny
I command you to love each other in the same way that I love you. John 15:12
Once upon a time in a large forest there lived a very furry bunny. He had one lop ear, a tiny black nose and unusually shiny eyes. His name was Barrington.
Barrington was not really a very handsome bunny. He was brown and speckled and his ears didn’t stand up right. But he could hop, and he was, as I have said, very furry.
In a way, winter is fun for bunnies. After all, it gives them an opportunity to hop in the snow and then turn around to see where they have hopped. So in a way winter was fun for Barrington.
But in another way winter made Barrington sad. For, you see, winter marked the time when all of the animal families got together in their cozy homes to celebrate Christmas. He would hop and he was very furry. But as far as Barrington knew, he was he only bunny in the forest.
When Christmas Eve finally came, Barrington did not feel like going home all by himself. So he decided that he would hop for a while in the clearing in the center of the forest.
Hop. Hop. Hippity-hop. Barrington made tracks in the fresh snow.
Hop. Hop. Hippity-hop. Then he cocked his head and looked back at the wonderful designs he had made.
“Bunnies,” he thought to himself, “can hop. And they are very warm too, because of how furry they are.”
(But Barrington didn’t really know whether or not this was true of all bunnies, since he had never met another bunny.)
When it got too dark to see the tracks he was making, Barrington made up his mind to go home.
On his way, however, he passed a large oak tree. High in the branches there was a great deal of excited chattering going on. Barrington looked up. It was a squirrel family! What a marvelous time they seemed to be having.
“Hello, up there,” called Barrington.
“Hello, down there,” came the reply.
“Having a Christmas party?” asked Barrington.
“Oh, yes!” answered the squirrels. “It’s Christmas Eve. Everybody is having a Christmas party!”
“May I come to your party?” said Barrington softly.
“Are you a squirrel?”
“No.”
“What are you then?”
“A bunny.”
“A bunny?”
“Yes.”
“Well, how can you come to the party if you’re a bunny? Bunnies can’t climb trees.”
“That’s true.” Said Barrington thoughtfully. “But I can hop and I’m very furry and warm.”
“We’re sorry,” called the squirrels. “ We don’t know anything about hopping and being furry, but we do know that in order to come to our house you have to be able to climb trees.”
“Oh, well,” said Barrington. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” chattered the squirrels.
And the unfortunate bunny hopped off toward his tiny house.
It was beginning to snow when Barrington reached the river. Near the riverbank was a wonderfully constructed house of sticks and mud. Inside there was singing.
“It’s the beavers,” thought Barrington. “Maybe they will let me come to their party.”
And so he knocked on the door.
“Who’s out there?” called a voice.
“Barrington Bunny,” he replied.
There was a long pause and then a shiny beaver head broke the water.
“Hello, Barrington,” said the beaver.
“May I come to your Christmas party?” asked Barrington.
The beaver thought for a while and then he said. I suppose so. Do you know how to swim?”
“No,” said Barrington, “but I can hop and I am very furry and warm.”
“Sorry,” said the beaver. “I don’t know anything about hopping and being furry, but I do know that in order to come to our house you have to be able to swim.”
“Oh, well,” Barrington, muttered, his eyes filling with tears. “I suppose that’s true – Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” called the beaver. And he disappeared beneath the surface of the water.
Even being as furry as he was, Barrington was beginning to get cold. And the snow was falling so hard that his tiny, bunny eyes could scarcely see what was ahead of him.
He was almost home, however, when he heard the excited squeaking of field mice beneath the ground.
It’s a party, thought Barrington. And suddenly he blurted out through his tears, “Hello, field mice. This is Barrington Bunny. May I come to your party?”
But the wind was howling so loudly and Barrington was sobbing so much that no one heard him.
And when there was no response at all. Barrington just sat down in the snow and began to cry with all his might.
Bunnies he thought aren’t any good to anyone. “What good is it to be furry and to be able to hop if you don’t have an family on Christmas Eve?”
Barrington cried and cried. When he stopped crying be began to bite on his bunny foot, but he did not move from where he was sitting in the snow.
Suddenly, Barrington was aware that he was not alone. He looked up and strained his shiny eyes to see who was there.
To his surprise he saw a great silver wolf. The wolf was large and strong and his eyes flashed fire. He was the most beautiful animal Barrington had ever seen.
For a long time the silver wolf didn’t say anything at all. He just stood there and looked at Barrington with those terrible eyes.
Then slowly and deliberately the wolf spoke. “Barrington,” he asked in a gentle voice, “Why are you sitting in the snow?”
“Because it’s Christmas Eve,” said Barrington, and I don’t have any family, and bunnies aren’t any good to anyone.”
Bunnies are, too, good, said the wolf. “Bunnies can hop and they are very warm.”
“What good is that?” Barrington sniffled.
“It’s is very good indeed,” the wolf went on, “because it is a gift that bunnies are given, a free gift with no strings attached. And every gift that is given to anyone is given for a reason. Someday you will see why it is good to hop and to be warm and furry.”
“But it’s Christmas,” moaned Barrington, “and I’m all alone, I don’t have any family at all.”
“Of course you do,” replied the great silver wolf. “All of the animals in the forest are your family.”
And then the wolf disappeared. He simply wasn’t there. Barrington had only blinked his eyes and when he looked the wolf was gone.
“All of the animals in the forest are my family,” thought Barrington. “It’s good to be a bunny. Bunnies can hop. That’s a gift,” and then he said it again. “A gift. A free gift.”
On into the night Barington worked. First he found the best stick that he could. (And that was difficult because of the snow.)
The hop. Hop. Hippity-hop. To beaver’s house. He left the stick just outside the door. With a note on it that read: “Here is a good stick for your house. It’s a gift. A free gift. No strings attached. Signed, a member of your family.”
It is a good thing that I can hop, he said, “because the snow is very deep.”
Then Barrington dug and dug. Soon he had gathered together enough dead leaves and grass to make the squirrels nest warmer. Hop. Hop Hippity-hop!
He laid the grass and leaves just under the large oak tree and attached this message. “A gift. A free gift. From a member of you family.”
It was late when Barrington finally started home. And what made things worse was that he knew a blizzard was beginning.
Hop. Hop. Hippity-hop.
Soon poor Barrington was lost. The wind howled furiously, and it was very, very cold. “It certainly is cold,” he said out loud. “It’s a good thing I am so furry. But if I don’t find my way home pretty soon even I might freeze!”
Squeak. Squeak…
And then he saw it – a baby field mouse lost in the snow. And the little mouse was crying. “Hello little mouse,” Barrington called.
“Don’t cry I’ll be right there.” Hippity-hop and Barrington was beside the tiny mouse.
“I’m lost,” sobbed the little fellow. “I’ll never find my way home and I know I’m going to freeze.”
“You won’t freeze,” said Barrington. “I’m a bunny and bunnies are very furry and warm. You stay right where you are and I’ll cover you up.”
Barrington lay on top of the little mouse and hugged him tight. The tiny fellow felt himself surrounded by warm fur. He cried for a while, but soon, snug and warm, he fell asleep.
Barrington had only two thoughts that long cold night. First he thought. It’s good to be a bunny. Bunnies are very furry and warm. And then, when he felt the heart of the tiny mouse beneath him beating regularly, he thought, “All of the animals in the forest are my family.”
Next morning, the field mice found their little boy asleep in the snow, warm and snug beneath the furry carcass of a dead bunny. Their relief and excitement was so great that they didn’t even think to question where the bunny had come from.
And as for the beavers and the squirrels, they still wonder which member of their family left the little gifts for them that Christmas Eve.
After the field mice had left, Barrington’s frozen body simply lay in the snow. There was no sound except that of the howling wind. And so no one anywhere in the forest noticed the great silver wolf who came to stand beside that brown, lop-eared carcass.
But the wolf did come.
And he stood there.
Without moving or saying a word.
All Christmas Day.
Until it was night.
And then he disappeared into the forest.
I am reading Wholehearted Faith by Rachel Held Evans. And I am inspired by her assertion that she said "yes” to Christianity because of so many examples of Christian women, women of the Bible and women in her life. It is impossible to read her examples without thinking of the women in my own life that reflected God’s love for me. First would have to be my mom, Mary Meynardie, who early in her life went to Japan as a missionary. Because of that my brothers and sister and I were raised in the mission field and learned the lessons of that life. And now at 98 with her memory fading and her eyesight dimming and her hearing fading, she still proclaims every day that she knows that God loves her. And because of our “maid”, Tomesan, who came to live with us in Japan. She was written out of her family book when she married and then written out of her husband’s family book when he died before she had produced an heir. She was at that point the equivalent of “a man without a country.” But she had become a Christian and her pastor, Pastor Tasaka, found her a place with our family. She was, for my sister and I, unconditional love. And then there were all my aunts and uncles back in the states, who we had never met, but for some reason showered us with love. I remember being shocked by this love from (for me) virtual strangers. And my sister, who despite my bossy, sometimes grumpy ways never once wavered in her sweet love for me. (Well maybe once, ask me about the vile perfume, Daisies Won’t Tell.) And the kindergarten teacher who loved me despite the fact that I was too shy to answer the role. And the high school teacher who advised me to find a way, any way, to speak in front of a group of people. And years later after I was married I took on the job of Sunday School assistant superintendent, mentored by Nell Hair, where my only job was to announce the hymn number at the Sunday School openings. And I managed to do that in front of a fellowship hall full of people. And the women of St. Lukes who showed up during the pandemic to prove to me and to each other that we were not alone. And just like Rachel Held Evans, there are too many women to mention. Women who showed me by their example the joys of being a Christian. And because of these women, I can say yes, too!
When I was young my family attended three services every Sunday. In the mornings we attended Yokohama Lutheran Church. This was the church my parents started as missionaries. The service was in Japanese. My sister visited this church on a recent trip to Japan. Pictures of our family are still on display there. Closer to noon we attended the church on the bluff. This was a protestant service for all the English speaking foreigners in the area. This church was the church our friends from Yokohama International School attended. We enjoyed being with our friends here. And then in the evenings we attended a service for the military families stationed in Yokohama. I think Mom and Dad had responsibilities at all three. I have gone to a lot of “church”, but I think the most meaningful services have been at churches where I was a stranger. There is something about not knowing anyone and having no responsibilities that allows my brain to pay attention to the service and worship God. The fact that these “strangers” are saying the same words and singing the same hymns that are familiar to me is a powerful reminder of the vastness of God’s church. And for some reason I pay attention. Earlier this year I had to drop out of literally everything at St. Lukes because of some serious problems with my back. As I recovered and began attending services again, I could appreciate parts of the service that I had not been paying attention to. I know I‘ll rejoin many of the things I have had to drop out of, but I do thank God for this silver lining that has allowed me to be more present at worship.
A little later today SCWELCA president, Risse Snelgrove and I will give this little speech to the Synod Assembly gathered in Columbia, SC. The theme this year is “I See Jesus.” I See Jesus in Our Community You’ve heard of the butterfly effect. That theory that everything you do matters. That your actions have consequences long after one might think the influence has dissipated and is gone forever. You see in 1963 Edward Lorenz presented a hypothesis to the New York Academy of Science. His theory, stated simply, was this: A butterfly could flap its wings and set molecules of air in motion, which would move other molecules of air, in turn moving more molecules of air - eventually capable of starting a hurricane on the other side of the planet. Lorenz and his ideas were literally laughed out of the conference. What he had proposed was ridiculous. So, imagine the scientific community's shock and surprise when, more than thirty years after the possibility was introduced, physics professors working from colleges and universities worldwide came to the conclusion that the butterfly effect was authentic, accurate and viable. And so, it is even with our lives. Every single thing we do matters. We have been created as one of a kind. On the planet Earth there has never been one like you…and there never will be again. Your spirit, your thoughts and feelings, your ability to reason and act all exist in no one else. The rarities that make you special are no mere accident or quirk of fate. YOU HAVE BEEN CREATED IN ORDER THAT YOU MIGHT MAKE A DIFFERENCE. YOU HAVE WITHIN YOU THE POWER TO CHANGE THE WORLD. The very beating of your heart has meaning and purpose. Your actions have value far greater than silver or gold. Your life and what you do with it today… MATTERS FOREVER. In WELCA we see this happen every day. As our members live out the WELCA purpose statement to support one another in our callings, engage in ministry and action, and promote healing and wholeness in the church, the society and the world we see Jesus in each other. Some of the things we do are little things like listening to each other, providing food, rides, and cards in times of need. Our circles function as communities that strengthen us and ground us in seeing Jesus in each other as we support and are supported by each other. And each loving act has the effect of growing Jesus in us. WELCA circles are modern examples of Jesus’ love. We see Jesus in each other. And that love for each other, that reflection of Jesus helps us to see him in our community every day. And as in The Butterfly Effect the influence of each small thing done with great love will not end with us, but its influence will go on forever.
During the bombing raids of World War II, thousands of children were orphaned and left to starve. The fortunate ones were rescued and placed in refugee camps where they received food and good care. But many of these children who had lost so much could not sleep at night. They feared waking up to find themselves once again homeless and without food. Nothing seemed to reassure them. Finally, someone hit upon the idea of giving each child a piece of bread to hold at bedtime. Holding their bread, these children could finally sleep in peace. All through the night the bread reminded them, “Today I ate and I will eat again tomorrow.” Each night I first get in touch with what I am grateful for from the day and I give thanks. Then I ask what I am not so grateful for. When I discover something I am not grateful for, I name it, feel it, and appreciate that I am not denying it and God is with me in it. Healing occurs to the degree that I welcome all my feelings and let myself be loved by them. In this way I honestly acknowledge pain and I take in love. Then I can usually fall asleep with a grateful heart. Matthew Linn
TGIF ～Hitoshi’s Reflection～ (This article was written in Japanese for Kuwamizu members and Hitoshi wants to share this with you.) "Thank God It's Friday" was the title of an American movie about 45 years ago. It seems that the theme song continues to be played at discothèques even in Japan. In English, we often see and hear the phrase abbreviated "TGIF". There is also a restaurant chain called TGI Friday’s in the United States and in the Tokyo area. In Japanese, TGIF literally translates to "Kami ni kansha (Thank God) Kyowa Kinyobi desu (Today is Friday)." However, when the phrase is used in English, it refers to the joy felt at the end of the week; the day before the weekend begins. In Japanese, it is used in context of "Hana Kin (Flower Friday)". But as Christians, let’s think about the deeper meaning of TGIF. This year, the week of April 2nd was Holy Week, and Kuwamizu Church held worship services at 7:30pm for three consecutive nights from Holy Wednesday to Holy (Good) Friday. On Good Friday there were two additional services, one was in English. Of course, it is meaningful for Christians to give thanks to God on this special Friday. Hitoshi thinks there's a deep hidden meaning to TGIF. Since the day of Jesus’ resurrection was Sunday, Christian churches hold services every Sunday. And the phrase TGIF is used every week. We should remember the Friday of the Cross every week, which shows God’s enduring love toward humanity. He mercifully forgives us and continually gives us our lives.
Now may the God of peace…make you complete in every good so you may do his will. Hebrews 13: 20-21 We get nervous when the words “works” and “faith” are in the same sentence. Martin Luther rightly challenged the teaching that one had to earn God’s favor. Yet, let’s not confuse “earn" with “effort.” Putting effort into our faith, into becoming a disciple of Jesus, is not the same thing as trying to gain points with God. The spiritual disciplines are tools for intentional training in discipleship. Like practicing scales on a piano, or running drills on a soccer field, practices like prayer, fasting, study, worship, and so on are aids to our maturing as followers of Christ. They are ways of practicing before we find ourselves in situations where we need to love an enemy or be the presence of Jesus in a tough-love situation. Many professions train regularly to be better prepared for crisis situations. Training in Christlikeness can develop a spiritual muscle memory that will instinctively respond well when we are emotionally broadsided. O Lord show me the tools I need to strengthen my discipleship. Amen By Valerie E. Hess (The Word in Season)
I just returned from Charlotte, NC to see my granddaughter star in her high school production of Our Town by Thornton Wilder. (Well, in my opinion she was the star:) I’m sure many of you know this poignant story of ordinary life in small town America. I’m also pretty sure that because most of you know the story, it's no spoiler to tell you that the protagonist, Emily, dies in the third act, while giving birth. We get to see her after her death talking to the “stage manager” (my granddaughter) lamenting that we don’t value day to day life as we live it, but only seem to appreciate life after it’s gone. EMILY: “Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover's Corners... Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking... and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths...and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you.” EMILY: "Does anyone ever realize life while they live it...every, every minute?" STAGE MANAGER: "No. Saints and poets maybe...they do some.” ― Thornton Wilder, Our Town “Thank you for the world so sweet. Thank you for the food we eat. Thank you for the birds that sing. Thank you God for everything.”
“Everything exposed to the light itself becomes light,” says Ephesians 5:13. In prayer, we merely keep returning the divine gaze, and we become its reflection, almost in spite of ourselves. (2 CORINTHIANS 3:18). The word prayer has often been trivialized by making it into a way of getting what we want. But I use prayer as the umbrella word for any interior journeys or practices that allow you to experience faith, hope and love within yourself. It is not a technique for getting things, a pious exercise that somehow makes God happy, or a requirement for entry into heaven. It is much more like practicing heaven now. By Richard Rohr
I have been offered the position of Program Coordinator for the Bega Kwa Bega Companionship between St Paul’s Area Synod and the ELCA Tanzania. I accepted and leave the first week in August traveling to Iringa, Tanzania for 2 yrs Susan Buecher (formally of Grace Circle, St. Lukes) Bega Kwa Bega is the phrase we use to describe our companion synod relationship with the Iringa Diocese of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Tanzania (ELCT). In English, the phrase means ‘shoulder to shoulder’, describing the way in which we accompany one another in a spirit of mutuality, inclusivity, and vulnerability. At its heart Bega Kwa Bega is a joint ministry between communities of faith in the ELCA and ELCT, whose purpose is to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ, to extend Christian hospitality, and to strengthen relationships with one another through the shared practices of prayer, presence, and projects. Through the work of this partnership and the leading of God’s Holy Spirit, we envision a deeper faith and fuller life, accompanying one another as participants in God’s ongoing mission in both America and Tanzania. We invite you and your congregation to learn more about us and join in the journey. Karibu sana! (You are warmly welcome!) https://spas-elca.org/mission/global-mission/tanzania/ https://spas-elca.org/category/blog/bega-kwa-bega/ ELCA Global Mission’s engagement throughout the East Africa region is diverse and includes relationships with two of the oldest, largest Lutheran churches in Africa. The Evangelical Lutheran Church in Tanzania has over 5 million members and is celebrating its 50th Jubilee. The Malagasy Lutheran Church has over 3 million members and was formed in 1950. Prior to the official formation of these churches, mission outreach from the U.S. and Europe had started in the 19th century. Both of these churches spread the gospel by holistic development of the people through evangelism, social ministries and leadership development. The ministries in the East Africa region are strengthened by the 26 ELCA synods relating to the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Tanzania. This is the highest number of companion synod relationships within one region; 20 of those relationships are with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Tanzania.
Maundy Thursday represents the Last Supper, when Jesus established the sacrament of Holy Communion by eating a meal with his disciples before his arrest and crucifixion. We observe Maundy Thursday with a Communion service and a foot-washing ceremony. These traditions help us reflect on the sacrifice of Jesus and his commandment for us to love and serve others. From our Bishop… The parade is over. The singing and joyous celebrating are now just a memory from Sunday. The palms are all cleaned up, and the city of Jerusalem is quiet. Tonight, we get one last meal with Jesus. But, before the action picks up in Gethsemane tomorrow, we get one last lesson from our Lord. He tells us to love each other. He doesn't just give it lip service. He gets down on his knees, pours water into a bowl, and washes the disciples' dusty feet. This is the love he speaks about. Humble, lowly devotion to the ones you love. It's a love that carries no glamour. It's a love that gains you nothing other than sideways glances from others, who would never do something that is beneath them. Jesus is showing us that love is costly. But more importantly, it is holy. How we love each other echoes an eternity. It is how we identify ourselves as followers of Christ. It is our calling card for the world. As we, the church, enter into the three days of Christ's death and resurrection, I pray we hear this one last lesson about our identity as citizens of God's Heavenly Reign. People will know us by how we love each other. People will know. People will see where our hearts and our values are by how we fall to our knees and reach out in service to our neighbor. Our promise in Jesus' resurrection is firm, and our call and identity are clear. When we get to the other side of the big celebration Sunday morning, and those decorations are cleaned up, and we go back out into the world, I pray that this identity shines brightly and clearly. Prayer: Lord Jesus, servant of all, we lift up our hearts to your command. Give us the strength to love as you love us. Amen.