Meditation on the Fires 11.16.08

There is an eerie cast to the day when fires are raging in southern California. A rival light, diffuse on the horizon, dilutes the intensity of the sun's rays even beyond the haze cause by the not-too-distant smoke. A surreal glow tinged a warm yellow hovers in the direction of the fires, the sunsets are ablaze with red, and the wind literally rains ash. I found my newly washed car dusted with gray flakes this morning, like some unruly cosmic dandruff, and it reminded me. Fires are burning. Lives are going up in smoke. Let us pray.

I know the fires in Santa Barbara have already almost completely destroyed a beautiful monastery perched on a hill with a view to the sea: Mt. Calvary, of the Order of the Holy Cross. I have gone there many times on retreat, both alone and with the women from my church. We would sit in the sun porch drinking tea, and looking through the books in their extensive library and wonderful bookstore. We bought cards with calligraphy beautifully crafted by one of the brothers, and walked the nearby labyrinth. We snuggled in big chairs before the fireplace, contemplating the words brought by the retreat leaders, the soul's language. We restored our souls.

Mt. Calvary will be rebuilt, reborn, I hope with even half the charm, and it will continue to nurture spiritual seekers from all over the world. But something irretrievable has been lost. When we next sojourn there it will be new, with a different taste and ambience, and in its newness and freshness it will be unfamiliar territory, turning us into strangers in an alien land, all physical traces of our past blotted out, rather than family returning to the familiar homestead. I want to honor this moment of loss, so much larger for the brothers than for me and my fellow retreatants, even as I look forward to the renewal that will come. For now, the Mt. Calvary that I have known and loved lives only in my heart.

Prayer: Dear God, I pray for your gracious mercy on all those who have lost homes, possessions and even loved ones as a result of the fires. Hold them lovingly in Your Hands, give them strength to endure and remind them of the hope of renewal even among the ashes which is Your everlasting promise. Amen.