August Journal, Tenth Sunday after Trinity

We pray for those lost in the fires on Maui and those survivors who must rebuild their lives.

The Lahaina fires this last week reminded me once again how fragile life is, how powerful nature is, and how deceiving the natural world can be. The Hawaiian islands are inviting with their mild temperatures, long beaches, warm ocean, and palms waving in the trade winds. But behind the seeming paradise lie active volcanoes, hurricanes, tidal waves, and fire fueled by the winds.

The islands, formed long ago from volcanic ash erupting through the Pacific Ocean, lure us into a trance of relaxation. Dancers are gentle, like the waving palms, their hands telling stories to the sounds of ukuleles and ballads of an earlier time, a seemingly more peaceful time.

Yet, of course, it is an illusion. Mankind is fallen, no matter the century, no matter the location. And the natural world will never be tamed, only entreated for a window of time.

I first realized the truth of this shaky truce between man and nature when we first visited the Big Island of Hawaii, where black volcanic lava from Kilauea covers much of the west side of the island. It looks like a moonscape. I wondered as we drove from the airport up the coast to our hotel, why we had come, and why anyone would want to come here, a place so barren and bleak. Yet, farther up the coast the lava rock had turned to lava gravel with greenery trying to sprout. Farther still, our hotel had carved out an oasis amidst this flat volcanic world, a water-fueled landscape of palms and hibiscus and white imported sand that met the blue sea, a pleasure to our urban eyes. Other resorts worked the same miracle by piping water in, landscaping with greenery, and creating beauty in a black lava desert.

And yet, it is all an illusion, dependent upon our constant vigilance. Nature will take over if we look the other way. History shows us this in castle ruins, today home to encroaching grasses and vines and scurrying creatures. In our own house the pigeons have nearly conquered our roof, and mice run in the walls and race through the attic. 

And of course in California we have had our own fires. We have not paid attention to forest management and electric grid safety. Winter storms and sudden floods have not alleviated drought, due to too few reservoirs. Like Joseph in Egypt, we must store for the lean times and shore up for natural disasters. Famine and flood are only a blink away.

Things are not always as they seem. Life and death are close cousins, even siblings. It is good to remember this, that we will not live forever on this earth, but can choose Eternity in Heaven. For Our Lord has given us hope in his resurrection, his conquering death, his command of the natural world. It is his life that lives within us (for those who believe and desire him) and it is his death that has given us life everlasting. He is the alpha and the omega, the only one who can and does free us from ourselves, from our own blindness. He is the one to whom we sing on a Sunday morning in a Berkeley chapel and in our evening prayers as the light dims and dusk falls. He is the one who lives in the prophets and their prophecies, about whom poets and playwrights write, and about whom the bards sing their ballads.

We have been given the truth to find the way in the light to the light. We need only turn toward Our Lord, take his hand and walk alongside, be present in church on Sundays and at the great festivals of the year, honor those who love him and speak truth, and obey his commandments. He has given us a lifetime and a library of help and vision. We need only say, as Our Lady Mary said, “Yes. Let it be done according to thy will.”

And so, on this Sunday in Trinitytide that falls between the Transfiguration of Our Lord and the Assumption of Mary we witness to the astounding news that God loves us. For he has shown us many things and will show us many more. He loves us. He is with us. Emmanuel. One day, we too will be transfigured, death turned to life, and we will rise to Heaven to be with our family and friends once again. One day, we will escape the fires and the storms and the twisting of truth about who we are and are meant to be.

One day, we will see God face to face.

And we pray for Maui.