The day we bless the chainsaws

Faith at work

I imagine it like this. We put up signs all over the Northeast Kingdom, that region of Vermont in which my neighbors and I continue to enjoy the distinction of being outnumbered by Holstein cows. The signs invite anyone with a chainsaw, and especially those who make a living with one, to come to a Monday sunrise service to have their saws blessed.

In addition to the blessing, all those who come receive a logger’s breakfast, an evergreen seedling to plant, and a container of two-cycle engine oil. We lay some sheets of cardboard about the chancel in case some of the saws are leaking fluid. After the closing hymn we process to the steps outside, fire up the saws and make one rip-roaringly joyful noise unto the Lord.

 

This article is available to subscribers only. Please subscribe for full access—subscriptions begin at $2.95. Already have an online account? Log in now. Already a print subscriber? Create an online account for no additional cost.

This article is available to subscribers only.

To post a comment, log inregister, or use the Facebook comment box.