At the northwestern end of McFarland Lake, Jack searched for the short 2-rod portage.  Luke saw it first, and slowed to drift his canoe into the channel.  Sure enough, the water was high enough, but just barely, for them to navigate it in their canoes.  Using their paddles as poles, gondola-style, they quickly emerged into Pine Lake.  A campsite at the portage was occupied. 

Maneuvering alongside Jack’s canoe, Pastor Luke proposed lunch at a nearby site.  They decided to follow the northern shore but soon they could see that this site was also taken, by diners like themselves.  They struck out across the water to a site on a small point at the southeastern end of the lake.  This one was open, so they claimed it for their midday meal. 

“Nice spot – the point makes you feel closer to the water,” Luke observed.  “Not like you’re very far from water anywhere here!” he added.  He knelt carefully to filter some for the canteens.  “So much water, so much precious pristine beauty.”

As they assembled lunch and ate, Jack brought up a theological question he’d been pondering.  “Pastor Luke, I heard a preacher on the radio one time talking about how environmentalists are ‘of the devil’ because God says in the Bible that we are supposed to ‘subdue the earth and have dominion over it.’  What do you think about that?”

Luke sighed.  “I look at it differently.  You have to take the Bible in its context.  The ancients were not faced with pollution, or urban sprawl, or diminishing wilderness.  Their challenges were more about how to survive in the wild world around them.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.  It’s a big difference.”

“So when we go into the wilderness, what do we need?”

Jack was amused by the feeling of sitting in the student’s chair.  He smiled and waved his hand toward their Duluth packs.  “Tents, sleeping bags, cook kits, mosquito dope…”

Luke pointed to the water filter he’d just used, and Jack nodded and added that to his list.

“Right!  We use these things for protection from the elements, so the rain and cold and bugs don’t threaten us.  Even though we’re very respectful of the wilderness, in our own ways we are ‘dominating and subduing’ in order to survive.” 

“So there’s no conflict between being a Christian and being an environmentalist?”

“Not in my book, Jack.  The whole creation sings of God’s presence!  Reverence for God and for the earth go hand in hand.  We’re called to care for the earth.”

“That makes sense to me, too, on a gut level.  Thanks for putting it in words for me.”

“Words are my life, you know!”

Lunch and the stimulating conversation fueled them for the long trip westward on Pine Lake.  Each of the men was lost in thought as they paddled into a brisk breeze.  Jack felt his muscles stretching, in a somewhat uncomfortable way.  He was sweating from his effort. 

       “I’d gotten pretty out of shape,” Jack thought to himself.  “Pastor Luke’s being easy on me with this route, I think.  Hope I get stronger.  Actually today is better than the first day.”  

With some canoe-to-canoe consultation they decided to stop early at an available campsite on the northern shore, since from this point they needed to make a decision about the rest of the route. 

Clambering out of the canoe, Pastor Luke surveyed the site.  Jack joined him and stretched mightily.  “Whew!” he exclaimed.  “I need a shower!”

“How would you feel about a cold bath instead?” Luke laughed.  “There’s a big tub right behind us.”

“Better sooner than later – the water might chill down a degree or two as evening comes.  Okay, I’m game.”  Jack peeled off his clothes and, before he lost his nerve, he plunged in.  “Yikes!  It’s cold!  I mean, ‘Come on in, the water’s fine!’” he called in mock reassurance to Luke.

More deliberate, Pastor Luke had opened his pack and dug out a few items.  He shed his clothes and watch and dropped a towel and sandals close to shore.  He strode into the lake until he was waist-deep, dunked under to get wet, then scrubbed his hair and skin in a soapless wash.  Another dunk underwater to rinse and then he lay back onto the surface to float.  This only lasted a few minutes before he was ready to get out.

Meanwhile Jack swam out a way, feeling invigorated by the clear, cold water.  Aware of his tired shoulder muscles, he reached his arms wide as he swam the breast stroke, feeling the benefit of the stretch.  The water was too chill for a long swim, though, so he headed back to the shore.  After a vigorous shake of his head he strode out.  “Ahhh, refreshing!” he exclaimed.  “But now where’s my towel?”  Stepping gingerly and dripping as he went, he extracted his towel with effort and rubbed his body briskly.  “This calls for clean clothes.” 

       “Canoe sighting at 50 yards,” Pastor Luke warned.  Jack, suddenly modest, hopped behind a bush where he finished drying his feet and donned pants and a sweatshirt.  He rubbed his stubbly face, pondering whether he should shave.  He quickly abandoned the idea when he realized he had a razor, but no mirror. 

Luke had dressed and now he stretched out full length on the log bench.  “I was hoping I could float awhile – that’s one of my favorite things.  But it’s just too cold, darn it!  You know, the philosopher Soren Kierkegaard likened faith to floating on deep, deep water.  If you struggle, splash around and get all tense, you will sink.  But if you trust, and relax, you’ll be able to float.  Think of Peter walking on the water to Jesus.  As soon as he doubted he started to sink.  He did fine as long as he trusted.”

Jack looked at his pastor with admiration, not sure what to say.  He liked these little mini-sermons but he wasn’t used to responding directly.  He just smiled.