Scotch College

No ordinary people

It is easy to imagine the heroes of the bushfires as exemplars of the ‘servant’ of God, as depicted in Isaiah. They were, but the full picture is more complex.

That afternoon the heat was searing. The bush was tinder dry. Fanned by hot winds, the fires blazed like an inferno. How Victoria burned. The news of fatalities came in slowly at first, but kept rising. Every news bulletin reported a higher death toll. We were told again and again that it would rise further. And it did.

I watched the ABC ‘Four Corners’ program and marvelled at film showing the speed and fury of the fire. Who could stand it its path? Not me. I was on my way to Sydney that Black Saturday. Later, I was sent several fire photos, some of diminutive CFA trucks in front of a wall of flames.

Our beautiful Garden State, its magnificent trees, bountiful stock, treasured homes and the families devastated, and all Victorians shocked. Beautiful country was reduced to wasteland. We looked for soaking rain and longed for the cooler weather. We yearn to see restoration and healing.

‘As the rain and the snow come down from heaven,’ declares the Lord by Isaiah (55.10f.), ‘and return not thither 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 of my mouth: it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.’

That healing and restoring ‘word’ from the Lord, issued with so much promise at a time of devastation, is described in the chapters that follow; the return of blessing is heralded by a ‘servant’ who suffers with and for the people.

On Black Saturday and its aftermath there were many heroes. We admired emergency services personnel, fire-fighters, police, ambos and others as they rushed to help. It demanded team effort and people rose to the occasion. There were stories of great courage and humility as people sought to offer help and succour. The boys and the whole school community have played a part.

Material goods have been offered in abundance. We have heard that the state and federal governments are committed to rebuild. It is heartening to imagine a complete restoration in years to come as we drive through Kilmore East and Kinglake, Marysville, and Buxton and the Prom. But pause right there. The truth is otherwise.

People have died; those who remain are changed forever. C S Lewis reminds us in his sermon ‘The Weight of Glory’ that it is the institutions, cultures, arts, civilisations that are mortal. They will end. The immortal element is the people. This is what the work of Isaiah’s ‘suffering servant’ has ensured. Read Isaiah 53: it speaks of Jesus. This is the Christian hope, the Easter message.

Lewis says, ‘There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal … it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit — immortal horrors or everlasting splendours.’ He says, ‘All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations.’

It is easy to imagine the heroes of the fires and the ashes as exemplars of the ‘servant’ of God. And they were, but the full picture is more nuanced, because we are each so complex. There were probably some mixed motives, some firebugs and some looters. In the end the exemplars and the profane both need the forgiveness the Lord’s servant offers, so that together in His name we help one another journey to everlasting splendour. GS