Shifting ground in Christchurch

"Why?" is the word that comes to mind when the earth moves, taking lives and life away. I have been reflecting on my expectation that the earth will stay still, as if it has no life in it and its only purpose is to support life above the ground. That expectation comes from seeing things stay as they are for ages. It comes from moments when I have revisited homes, buildings, and environs I knew in childhood and early adult years. It comes from visiting historical sites in countries where humanity has existed for centuries. My understanding of scientific insights in this century is that we cannot expect anything from the smallest cellular structure to vast spaces in the universe to stay still or move in an isolated fashion. Everything we know and touch is likely to change and is changing in every moment. The earth is full of life to the greatest depth and is constantly reshaping itself. Life on earth is small compared with universes around us and very little can be predicted with certainty, if there is such a thing as certainty.

My life each day seems to have a certain predictability around it. Even though the earth has convulsed in Christchurch I find myself planning for tomorrow as if my own environment will stay the same. That tendency in humans is important otherwise we would turn in on ourselves and fail to be creative, love each other and make a difference in this world. I am at the stage where there is much less time in the future for me than there used to be. The question is, "How can I live with firm intention knowing the ground might shift at any moment?" I suppose I will continue to do what I have always done which is assume safety and continuance. Treasured moments are what I have and I am fortunate to have opportunities to create more of them.

For many people in Christchurch it will be very hard to keep going when people they treasured and lives they nurtured have disappeared so suddenly. There are ways to recover but they take time, they do not happen without resources and they need to be accompanied by human touch.

This week is another time in my life when I cannot answer the question, "Why?" It will keep occurring in my mind and in my conversation. It asks me to keep searching and inform myself even though in the end I must learn to live with uncertainty. It also provides a certain empathy I must cling to and offer.

I lived and worked in Christchurch for four years in the 1960s. It was one of the cities in Aotearoa that looked like the English past we had read about in history books. Solid stone churches and my university building made me feel strong and secure. When I was uncertain I leaned against them and listened to wisdom from the past that spoke of long standing traditions. It is so hard to see these symbols of assurance crumble into the earth. The Pyne Gould Guinness building stood on ground where Cambridge Methodist Church and Mission stood, opposite the peaceful Avon river. I was the clergyman responsible for that church (1966 - 1969)and sadly it was burnt to the ground in 1981. Now the ground itself has shifted and people have died in what was a sacred place for me. We used to pray there for life to continue and remain secure.

But the stories of people in Christchurch who cannot touch their loved ones any more and those who must build new homes in places they may not want to live in are much more disturbing. In grief I look for causes, explanations and reasons. It is important I contemplate why things happen that take people from us and leave us struggling to understand. It helps to know I am afraid and let that happen without trying to eliminate my natural tendencies. That which shifts within me mirrors the way the ground of life shifts, without warning and without explanation.

Our community choir ended our practice last night singing a version of the beautiful African-American spiritual "There is a balm in Gilead". In the Old Testament book of Jeremiah there is a verse with the words, "Is there no balm in Gilead?" and one interpretation suggests it means "Is there no physician there?". Our conductor Julian Raphael kept over 100 of us singing until we were murmuring the words and sounds and ended with a long silence. He knew we needed to acknowledge our feelings quietly and think about people we love. I must find the physician in myself and keep believing there is a balm to sooth the future and make healing possible.

Arohanui to the people of Christchurch and to all those who know and love them.

24th February 2011