A Fiery Contemplation

June 2002:  Ash rained down and the horizon was a dusty orange.  As a kid, it was a curious thing to catch charred bits in your hands as one would a snowflake, but it was also terrifying.  It meant the fire was close, that there was the possibility, however remote, that your entire life could go up in flames.  To escape the thick, suffocating haze of the approaching Hayman fire, we voluntarily evacuated.

Perhaps it is because of this elementary school experience, or maybe it is because my native state continues to experience major fires during the summer, some of which strike close to my parents' home, but my heart aches for all those who have been affected by the Fort McMurray fire.  As of Wednesday (May 25th), the fire has consumed over 2,000 square miles in two Canadian provinces and destroyed more than 2,000 structures. Weather conditions there continue to contribute to the spread of the fire and there appears to be no end in sight.  88,000 residents of Fort McMurray and surrounding areas were evacuated.  As far as I know, no one has been allowed to return, although if all goes well, Fort McMurray is scheduled for re-entry in early June.

I don't have TV and I don't frequent news sites.  Most of the major news stories I am aware of I know about because of social media.  With both the Belgium and Paris attacks, information was plastered across Facebook and people changed their profile pics to show solidarity with those communities that were impacted.  Since the Fort McMurray fire made international news, there has been little to no mention of the ongoing situation.  A quick look at what is trending on Facebook reveals that election politics are among the top most popular topics.  The suffering of 88,000 people, some who watched their homes burn, has been largely forgotten.

It's fascinating:  tragic, short-lived events, where some people lost their lives at the hands of a few evil men, are treated as more important than developing natural disasters that impact thousands.  Why does one deserve more attention and recognition than another?

Both types of events, natural disaster and man-instigated violence, are consequences of the fall.  God did not create the world for such devastation.  In Genesis, He calls His creation good, but men rebelled and brought destruction.  Men continue to seek out evil and nature continues to bear fruit of a broke world.  Neither can rebuild what is destroyed.  And yet while we remained broken, victims of ourselves and natural phenomena, Christ came to mend and rebuild, to redeem us from our rebellion. Through His death, we have been given life.

While I mourn with those who have lost loved ones and I weep with those who have no home to return to, I also pray that God may grant them strength to face their earthly sorrows and comfort in the salvation won by Christ and given in Word and Sacrament.

Hallowed Be Thy Name

At church this pre-Lent and Lenten-tide, we are going through the Lord's Prayer and memorizing the corresponding section from Luther's Small Catechism. For Sexagesima (second Sunday before Ash Wednesday, for those who are unfamiliar with the historic one-year lectionary), our focus was the first petition:

First Petition

Hallowed be Thy name.

What does this mean?

God's name is certainly holy in itself, but we pray in this petition that it may be kept holy among us also.

How is God's name kept holy?

God's name is kept holy when the Word of God is taught in its truth and purity, and we, as the children of God, also lead holy lives according to it. Help us to do this, dear Father in heaven! But anyone who teaches or lives contrary to God's Word profanes the name of God among us. Protect us from this, heavenly Father!

This comes at an apropos time. Reading and studying God's Word has been very comforting as I struggle with certain events in my personal life. As sinful humans, we get caught up with things that happen around us. We are concerned with where our country is headed, with wars and rumors of wars abroad, and with the struggles, both physical and mental, of our family and friends. We think that there are things that we can do, no, that we must do, to help remedy these situations.

But guess what? We are sinful! There is nothing we can do. There is nothing I can do.

We pray that's God's Word be kept holy. Not that we keep it holy, as if our actions, our works, can do anything, but that it be kept holy.

Isaiah 55:10-13 (ESV)

"For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it. For you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress; instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle; and it shall make a name for the LORD, an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off."

God sends out His Word among us. The Word become flesh and fullfilled the Law, taking upon Himself our sin, becoming sin for us, to cleanse us of it. And now we pray that this Word of Truth may be kept holy among us also. We pray, and that is all we can do.  God has done and will do the rest.

Thine over all shall be the praise
And thanks of ev'ry nation;
And all the world with joy shall raise
The voice of exultation.
For Thou shalt judge the earth, O Lord,
Nor suffer sin to flourish;
Thy people's pasture is Thy Word
Their souls to feed and nourish,
In righteous paths to keep them.
                      LSB 823 stanza 2

What Is a Car?

I recently read an essay about a car.  The author, Marina Keegan, reminisced about a Toyota Camry, her first car.  She described how it had been a digest of her life.  The joys and the sorrows it had seen her through. The bits of her life that were scattered in the trunk and tucked between the seats. 

My current car has seen a lot.  Of the 225,000 miles on the odometer, I've put well over half of those on in the six-odd years I've had it.  Yet despite all that car has been through, all of the routine maintenance and uniquely Volvo problems it has survived, it's not my first car.

The first one holds a special place in every teenager's memory.  The strangeness of the first 15 minute drive to school by myself, without another licensed adult in the passenger seat.  The quirkiness that caused friends and siblings to open the door while moving (that's not the window handle!).  That time my battery died at a post office on the other side of town.  That time it died again at school and I had to roll it down the hill so my boyfriend could jump it.

When it's time to put my current vehicle out of its misery, I will remember what we've been through together, and I'll be ready to move on.  But that first car, I wish we hadn't had to part ways.