Or, The Pine Beetle And The Fall
One particularly sad thing I’ve seen unfolding over the past few years has been the mountain pine beetle infestation in BC. It’s on my mind right now as we traveled to Kelowna for a wedding, and we passed huge areas of dead forest along the way. I grew up in those mountains and have always felt a strong attachment to them; when I was posted in Ontario and New Brunswick I missed them terribly (and was astonished by the molehills that the locals called “mountains” out there). So it’s been rather upsetting to watch vast swaths of the BC forest turning that dull, reddish hue that betrays the activity of the pine beetles; as they invade a tree, the needles gradually turn red as the tree dies slowly. I’ll never forget taking Highway 1 between Merritt and Kamloops, and seeing virtually all red and dead trees with nary a live one to be found for miles. Some one billion trees have died, apparently, about 25% of BC’s forest, and the BC government is on record as estimating that the total damage will eventually rise to 80% of its pines. That is staggering.
Over the last three years, Alberta has spent $210 million trying to prevent the spread of the beetle across the border. That’s nothing compared to the almost $1 billion spent in BC by the provincial and federal governments. As of last year, a slowdown in the infestation had been observed, but only because of the dwindling number of adult pines left for the beetles to attack. So, an astronomical amount of money has been spent trying to get this problem under control, but with little to show for it.
The beetles’ advance has been relentless, but in early 2009 a much lower number of newly attacked trees was observed in Alberta – less than a quarter of the previous year’s newly infested trees. Were the governments’ efforts successful that year? Hardly. The winter of 2008 was unusually cold compared to previous years, and the only two things known to reliably kill these beetles are fire and sustained cold temperatures (in the neighborhood of -35 degrees Celsius for five days, I think).
It’s an interesting and sobering comment on the limitations of mankind’s technological and scientific prowess. Last week I was writing about artificially synthesized DNA being placed in a cell and replicating – a monumental scientific accomplishment, “artificial life.” Yet at the same time, a beetle the size of a grain of rice has laid flat an area larger than California and New York combined, and the concerted efforts of the BC (and other) governments has failed to stop the little pest – despite the fact that BC is one of the more prosperous provinces of one of the richest nations on earth and has the motivation (as its economy depends heavily on forestry) to succeed. So we are reduced to hoping and praying that the next winter is cold.
I think of Alexander the Great, conquering the Mediterranean basin, destroying the Persian empire that had flattened the Babylonians and threatened Europe for centuries, even penetrating deep into India – and then he dies at a young age of malaria, a warrior king felled by a tiny mosquito.
The red forests of BC remind us that we are truly at God’s mercy. It is God who declares, “And all the trees of the field shall know that I am the Lord; I bring low the high tree, and make high the low tree, dry up the green tree, and make the dry tree flourish. I am the Lord.” (Ezekiel 17:24) His voice “makes the deer give birth and strips the forests bare, and in his temple all cry, ‘Glory!’” (Psalm 29:9) We are insignificant and impotent, absolutely dependent on his good will and mercy – even as we pridefully trumpet our meager accomplishments, nature itself testifies that we are insufficient to rule it.
Even that inability to exercise dominion over the earth is itself a result of our sin. God cursed the ground due to the very first sin in the Garden (Genesis 3). God warned rebellious Judah that “my anger and my wrath will be poured out on this place, upon man and beast, upon the trees of the field and the fruit of the ground; it will burn and not be quenched.” (Jeremiah 7:20). As a result, “the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.” (Romans 8:20-23)
Our sin had consequences for all creation. Now we find ourselves unable to fully complete the commission given us in the Garden to “fill the earth and subdue it.” Our hope of a healed and restored creation is beyond our human ability to accomplish; it depends on God’s favor. There are all too many people, many Christians among them, who are altogether too optimistic about human ability and progress. God reminds us regularly, in blatant and subtle ways both, that any optimism and confidence resting elsewhere than the person, work, and return of Christ is misplaced.
Ponder that as you consider your own sin. Ponder its weakening, incapacitating nature, its danger to not just yourself but all you hold dear on this earth. And consider how your very ability to complete the tasks God has given you – whether it is filling and subduing the earth, proclaiming the Gospel to the nations, or growing in conformity to the image of Christ – depends on grace. Think about that – think about how small we are! Read Job 38 through 41, if that does not affect you.
And thank God for his grace the next time the mercury drops below 40 on the minus side…