By james art 
Wilmington – Wind rain clouds rushed over a swollen Brandiin Creek at a recent, shiny Sunday, and worshipers scattered like leaves to wander with their muddy shores.
One ran his hands over the rough bark of an old oak. Others took pieces of garbage. A pair of geese from Canada threw themselves strongly at all of them.
The Reverend Pete Nunalo, from the Episcopal Church of St. David, narrowed and ran his fingers through the cold, cloudy water. The 47 -year -old, 47, leads a monthly “Water and Desert Church” here at Brandivin Park and another in a park in Washington. His website describes the liturgy as a way of “worshiping wild places and grafting our worship in the complete, wild beauty of the desert.”
“I knew that if I did, people would come,” he said.
Christianity, he said, began as an outdoor religion, long before churches and cathedrals. Jesus followers went and talked to him and each other, gathering around him in rocky stretches or near the Galilee Sea.
“He has always been close to water,” Nunalo said.
As the Covid-19 pandemic wore and attended an indoor liturgy, they fell, maddally found that worshipers were leaving the church, as in the physical building, but not their faith. This is what attracted him to the growing “wild church movement”, a worldwide effort to give nature and worshipers of climate sentiment for their faith.
“Nature sometimes speaks to people in a way that the church does not do,” he said, “but she says the same.”
The wild church network lists over 200 groups, internationally, from Ohio to Australia. Most are non -marginal, secular groups that are found in private lands and in public parks.
Unlike the traditional, indoor mass, the bishop’s worship of Nunnally feels more free, with small discussions and readings of the Bible, broken by short campaigns. There are no bells or calls to stand or kneel to mark the time.
“So this is, right now. This is our liturgy, “he said as he walked past the river in the rain with about two dozen souls.
The Munnali grows near the Potomak River in Sterling, Washington, spending their fishing and tourism days. He transfers these traditions to the priesthood and has never put a hard line between closed and outward faith.
“I spent a lot of time outdoors and I still do it,” he said.
On Instagram Nunnally, he is known as the “priest of the desert”, and his short videos are meditations on nature, hope and love. In one video, he captures snowflakes with his tongue at night.
“Never lose the joy of little things like snow,” he says.
Around 4 pm, on February 16, the pilgrims gathered in a Rose Garden in Wilmington Park and Nunnally, began a liturgy with the transmission of “this little light” to their acoustic guitar. The temperatures collapsed as the light decreased and the wind picked up and this was even better for nunnally.
“When you feel the wind, you feel God,” he told the little crowd.
As the worshipers went to their walk through the park, Nunnally encouraged them to present themselves, to inform others why they came and why nature and faith are inseparable to them.
“I like to be outdoors and see God in every single thing my eyes went here,” says 63 -year -old Amy Hara from North Wilmington.
After a short walk, a worshiper read from the Gospel and everyone discussed the reading in light rain.
“There is hope in reading, right that those who suffer now will not suffer later?” said then.
After everyone crossed another bridge, the worshipers broke bread and drank wine. Kristen Thompson, a Dover resident, certified in forest bathing, urged everyone to spend some time alone for a few minutes before the liturgy was completed.
“Go to explore this abundance with your sense of touch. Tap a tree. Tap the water. Turn on your senses, ”she said.
Kevin Kane, 58 -year -old, from Garnet Valley, Deluer County, toured large roots of the trees as the winds rose and blown leaves and branches through the landscape.
“I have always found peace and God here in the desert,” he said. “I grew up a Roman Catholic, but I looked for it. That was deliberate. “
Nunnally called everyone with chords of “incredible grace” and soon Mat was over.
Then everyone gathered from some hot chocolate cars and several of the last sun rays during the day cut the clouds.