MICHAELMAS - 2001 A.D.

Some smoke from lower Manhattan drifted into my dreams and mingled with the crisp, clear air of a late Canadian summer. I woke and the smoke was not just a bad dream and the memory of Canada was young and fresh and tempting. I will probably never again be free of the smoke or the temptation to flee to places of beauty and security. We had been scheduled to fly from Seattle to San Jose. On that particular September Tuesday, however, that was not possible, so we kept our rental car and drove south. We drove to traffic snarls caused by people reporting for military duty; we drove to the beat of rock stations broadcasting news instead of noise; we drove by the great mountains of the Northwest that had, or could, cause horror and destruction on the grandest of scales, just by the natural process of things. When we stopped, we ate pizza and drank beer, slept and had smoky dreams. Our weekend in Canada seemed like a womb to which we might logically return, but we didn’t. We rose to drive again. We started in the dark and as the light came there was another great mountain welcoming us to our native state. Shasta, the same as her sisters to the north, is poised to do what mountains sometimes do when given eons to do it, and the horror of the previous twenty-four hours took on some perspective. We still did not yet know whether to cry or shout, so we stopped and ate breakfast. After that, we drove on and found a few radio stations that played music; not an easy task. The urge to be home; to be with family and friends; to comfort and be comforted was stronger than the urge to return to the First Nation village at the mouth of Nootka Sound and stretch out on the dark, warm, smooth pebbles, gaze at the open Pacific, and be thankful to be alive. We reached home at dusk, thankful to be alive.

It seems apparent that a perversion of Islam, in some form, has a hand in the smoke and destruction that haunts our dreams. The teachings of Muhammad are wise and full of news of a just and loving God. The teachings of Christ are wise and full of news of a just and loving God. Over the centuries both sets of teachings have often been interpreted in ways that bring death and suffering. Robert Burns asked for, “the gift to see ourselves as others see us.” We must take that look, preferably with the help of those we are poised to hate, and then do what must be done, not simply to bring safety and satisfaction, but to bring the world into a balance that will please Muhammad and our Lord. To live our lives looking over our shoulder seems to be to be a great waste of good lives, not to mention that it is hard to help others while looking over one’s shoulder. We might think of invading countries that harbor the factions we seek, not with bullets, but with food, clothing, and the tools of prosperity we have in such abundance. True, we might take actual casualties from zealots who do not want our kind of help, but we are going to take casualties in any case. It could dent our standard of living, or luxury, but it could save the world.

God may or may not be trying to teach us something in all this. If there is a message to be learned, let us pray that this time we read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest it. After previous instances of equal or greater horror, it seems that the world had gotten pretty poor marks on the whole.

I am a closet Canadian. I love Canada! Mrs. Noah says that if she is around, she will have “Oh Canada” played at my memorial. As I write this, I long to hear all the great songs of faith in God, country, and our way of life. We need to sing such songs over and over. “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes” is a wonderful tune, but not just now, thank you.