#Seed007: Fires, Drought, and Prayer

Reflections on disasters and resilience

“Fire tests gold, misfortune brave men.” - Seneca, De Providentia

It is quite fitting to begin an essay on wildfires with an epigraph from a Stoic. Throughout Northeastern America, smoke from Canadian forest fires pervaded the skies, hazing our visions. Photographs of real-life sepia in New York City are either reminiscent of a by-gone art form or bring in prophetic visions of the apocalypse. Our collective imagination is filled with the dread of fire. Many see these wildfires as just another sign of climate disruption. But it is more than that. Just as Mt. Vesuvius erupted over 2,000 years ago, these wildfires are a reminder of our fragility.

Unfortunately, our detachment to nature has disconnected us from these crisis. I find it fitting that we complain about the rain. About four weeks ago, when the drought began, I started off quite happy about the sunshine. After about a week, I had a conversation with a farmer friend of mine who was mentioning how difficult it was without the rain, and the weather predictions that there was no rain in sight. In the city, barely anyone noticed that it hadn’t rained in over two weeks. Business as usual. We find comfort knowing that we can have fresh strawberries all year round. We’ve imposed an unnatural predictability to our world that has disconnected us from nature, and ultimately to our Creator.

Throughout history, sacred scriptures alluded to disasters and catastrophes. From a spiritual perspective, floods, fires, and earthquakes are meant to revive stale hearts and bring to attention our relationship to our Creator. They disrupt our routine and give us an opportunity to face the unknown. We come to learn whether we live in a community or not. Are we with friends and family, seeking to come together and bear the storm? Or are we alone, threatened by our fellow man? We come to know ourselves in times of difficulty. Are we cowards or are we committed to helping our brethren? In times of crisis, do we seek to hide or seek to help? These times are moments for us to come to know ourselves.

When our society is disrupted by a great event, we sense a collective humility. There are limits to what we know and to what we can fix. At this point, we are called to turn to the realm of the Spirit. It is in this realm that we find virtue, courage, love, justice, forbearance, and prudence. Prayer becomes our weapon.

In the tradition of Islam, we learn about the Prayer for Rain (ṣalāt al-istisqa), in which we supplicate to God for an abundant and fertilizing rain. The Prophet Muhammad, may God continue to nourish his soul, would pray:

“O God, give us a rain that will replenish us, and that is abundant, fertilizing and beneficial, not injurious.”

In deep awareness of our need for water, we are called to see things as they are. Rain is beneficial, not an inconvenience. Only a modern urban society will not notice a drought. And thus find itself surprised when our surroundings are filled with smoke.

I believe that the disconnection to nature is intertwined with our disconnection to community and to the Spirit. We are taught in our tradition to come together in times of hardship. But what happens when that hardship is hidden? We struggle to recognize the degradation of our soils and the pollution in our waters. When a great event happens, we may not know where to turn to. An awareness of nature reveals our vulnerability and our deeper needs: our need for each other and our need for God.

Drawing Inspiration

Every week, I share books, podcasts, films, and other resources that will support your journey as a community facilitator and builder.

Books

I picked up An Other Kingdom: Departing the Consumer Culture by Peter Block, John McKnight, and Walter Brueggemann. For those in the community facilitation world, Peter Block and John McKnight are familiar names. This is a beautiful reflection inviting us to shift the way we work. This work invites us to reconsider our desire to control and to enter the unpredictable place of neighbourly love.