Dear Children, Grand children, family & friends,
Some of you children may remember how we used to love to go to Issaquah creek or Soos creek or the Chittendam Locks in Seattle to watch the ‘salmon run’ returning to spawn.
I was always fascinated by that supreme sacrifice …It often reminded me of the passage in John 15: 13… “A man can have no greater love than to lay down his life for his friends”.
Lest we forget, lest we forget…; How a mere salmon or a tiny cricket can bring those words vividly back to mind!
I used to sit by Soos creek or yet again by the Cedar River to watch the returning salmons struggle to live and stay the course to release new life! Time would pass much too quickly as I gazed motionless in sheer wonder. In no way did I want to affect the concentration of the salmon or divert him from his focused end goal… to pass on precious life to the next generation.
Truth is that with much faith, for the salmon; up the river way also lay the way to new life…
In silence I loved to observe the supreme effort of those salmon persevering and battling up the creek. Sometimes the water level was so low at the end of a long dry summer that the top half of the salmons would stick out. In the crystal clear glacial waters, I could see the salmon’s belly being torn while scraping against the round or sharp river rocks. With a common purpose the salmon were all struggling in an uncommon way to live. Did they sense that they were on their way to die so as to leave behind new life? The salmons were certainly being torn from above and from below. Were they also torn from inside at the thought of the ultimate sacrifice they were about to go through? Were those ripples on the water surface vibrating with the echo of their cry: Lord! Oh Lord! Why have you abandoned us?
As with the crack of a whip tearing into the flesh, birds of prey were swirling above the salmon. With precision and regularity, the birds dove to mercilessly tear off pieces of flesh when they could not snatch the whole salmon in one swift passing scoop.
Yes! Indeed, with much admiration I often prayed to have the salmon’s courage some day…Regardless how it was being ‘crucified’, its skin and flesh torn from above and from below, the salmon kept striving forward towards the cross roads of its ultimate sacrifice of love. At that cross road, one of the street signs leading the salmon to its original place of birth spelt ‘Death’. But the other street sign read ‘Life’! There, at those cross roads the salmon would say ‘Adieu’ to his world travels spanning some four years across the ocean. Concurrently the salmon would proffer ‘Fare Well’ to the new generation springing along that traditional old spring, creek or river channel!
Year after year, along the flowing waters of various Northwest water ways new life would flow downstream towards the open ocean’s adventure until at the end of the voyage once again imminent death would battle upstream to bring about new life. The thought of that yearly cycle of new life issued from death going on for millenniums in a seemingly endlessly repetitive process used to captivate my imagination. Year after year watching the same looking salmon, I often questioned if life submitted to death or if death surrendered to life?
I concluded that since the salmon lives on, St Paul was correct in claiming: “Death where is your sting?”
Since my return to Mauritius and lately in Rodrigues, I have also been fascinated by coral life. Corals take hundreds of years to reach any meaningful size. Over decades they know that they can only find new life from and can only grow on the skeleton of their ancestors! Again in a vast sea of life I am amazed to find that there also, death supports new life!
That’s what I love to observe more and more at the animal level. Did God create that sacrificial instinct in animals in order to help us better comprehend the awesomeness of His only Son’s sacrifice? Is that one of God’s ways of helping us find truth and have life along the way?
What goes on ‘naturally’ at the instinctive animal level is exemplified through the strongest possible testimony of Love given to us by Jesus. The reading on the second Sunday of lent out of ‘Living Faith’ and the Bible spoke to that sacrifice. The ‘transfiguration’ precedes the turning point in the life of Jesus and therefore the life of the world through the life of the Word made flesh to die in order for us to have eternal life!
Living Faith: “Jesus’ total gift of His life for and to humanity will be, at the same time, the Father’s gift of His only son to us. John 3:16 – God so loved the world that He gave His only son, so that everyone who believes in Him might not perish but might have eternal life.”
Jesus makes it plain for us to see and Jesus sets the scene for us to grasp the cycle of life from our observations in this world – We are transfigured by the transition from the one form of life to the next.
Death unveils the mystery of life. Death brings about the transfiguration that propels us from a worldly life to an eternal one.
In the same vein, even if unable to fathom the mystery, in a more ‘basic instinct driven will to live’, animals ensure the perpetuation of life through love and through ultimate sacrifice.
All created by the Word, the animal world instinctively chooses life over eternal death of the species!
Hence, because the Word created this world, the Word often uses small miracles/coincidences in this world to increase our awareness of the beautiful life that surrounds us and the supreme life that awaits us through the on going gift of new life.
Here, under the tropics, we are very far from the Northwest salmon runs. I am physically very far from you my children, grand children, old and young friends. But I am never far from those I love so much and from all that I have so loved to observe.
I continue to be fascinated by the thought of life conquering death through love. Even if and when it is at the price of great pain and suffering!
When I was young I had to learn by heart the famous fable from La Fontaine: ‘La Cigale et la Fourmie”.
« La cigale ayant chanté tout l’été se trouva fort dépourvue lorsque l’hiver fut venu… »
It is the story of the cricket and the ant. It illustrates how the care free cricket sang all summer while the laborious ant worked all summer to save for a Seattle rainy winter day. I always felt that the ant was put in a most favorable light while the cricket was pictured as a no good partier!
That old concept and the discovery of the beauty of new life emerging out of a cricket’s death have radically changed my opinion of the cricket.
It took only one day for me to learn to have much more love and respect for crickets. Whether that love and appreciation is born out of myth and local folklore matters little. The first time we drove up the hill on the way to Mont Lubin, the sudden squealing noise of the shrieking massive swarm of crickets was so deafening that, not knowing what it was; Eve and I imagined that it was a loose fan belt screeching. We stopped the car and turned off the engine but the wailing noise went on unabated. Eventually we learnt that crickets endemic to Rodrigues made that constant screeching noise.
Lately, to try and escape from the torrid coastal summer heat, we take afternoon drives up the hill to go walk in the woods under the towering pines and Eucalyptus trees leading us towards the nursery of Solitude. During our walks, deafened by the squeaking endemic crickets, we often searched up the trees through the umbrella like dense growth canopy to see if we could find at least one cricket. But not trained to find that kind of insect within its century’s old natural habitat, we did not know they could be found at eye level. Instead, we searched towards the sky, way too far up. It was a constant vain and fruitless effort. We could never find or pinpoint any of those multitude of insects lost in a confounding sea of noise coming seemingly from everywhere at once!
Luckily last Saturday, as we were returning from Solitude we saw our friend, Cola, who was heading towards his home in Solitude. I asked Cola if he had ever seen a cricket? He laughed! Then he asked how many did we want to not only see but to hold? Effectively he started pointing at dead ones still clinging tightly to the tree bark at eye level all around us! This endemic cricket has so adapted to its environment that it is absolutely camouflaged within its milieu. So much so that unless you know where and what to look for, you can totally miss them a foot away from your eye!
As Cola unclenched a few of those endemic crickets from their age old environment and handed them onto us, we were surprised to note that they were all split open along their ‘backbone’! I asked Cola if it were other insects that came to split them open to eat them up. Again Cola laughed and said: No! They try to overcome death by gripping on to life and by tightly digging their tiny claws in the tree bark. But eventually they realize that life can surpass death. The crickets let go and let God. So! As they surrender to the forces of new life, their whole body splits open and as they die, new life emerges from them! It is symbolic of a simultaneous resurrection!
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That’s cricket! They are a fact of life here! The cricket’s ultimate sacrifice helps it pass instantly from one life to the next! Aside from the new life it conceived, harbored and released all it leaves behind as a reminder of its own passage through the woods under the leaves is the envelope it leaves behind. Along the back of that envelope we can discern the lasting smile that one death and a new life joined together to carve down the spine of the old envelope. Under the vast canopy of leaves, it is a compelling reminder that others now live because some died! One life and all its empty veins has gone by, but not in vain…
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Cola even found a live cricket for us.
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After much wrestling, he managed to unclench it from the tree. As Cola handed it to me, I asked him what do they eat? With much conviction and an obviously deeply anchored belief Cola swore high and dry that unlike Rodrigues goats who ravage all growth, the crickets do not eat and or destroy anything throughout their lifetime! I insisted: “But Cola, to live they have to eat!” No, No, No said Cola. Their food is their song! Singing is what feeds them! That is their one and only nourishment! I said: Come on Cola, how can that be? Cola explained that, that was their one and only purpose in this world. The endemic Rodrigues cricket is born solely to sing to God’s glory. Cola went on to explain that they are born happy.
According to Cola and the local folklore, from birth the cricket inherits such a store of enthusiasm for life that they need absolutely nothing else but song and laughter to live on! And believe me, no one and nothing will ever make Cola believe otherwise!!!
Indeed I realized that, that cricket folklore or myth could very well reflect the spirituality/mentality of many of the people we meet in Rodrigues! It seems that many instinctively believe in just being rather than having, in just living rather than worrying about what more life should they be craving for from a God given life! The Rodrigues natives embrace life with a contagious smile and place all their trust in God’s Providence to go on living happily.
Most Rodrigues natives reject the ways of the world and place no faith in its wildly spinning wheel. Faithfully relying on the wise will of the Word, Rodriguans remain unaffected by the world’s financial crisis or any other form of panic to live another day only to want more.
They are satisfied to learn from nature and to know that Life will go on surrendering to new life with God meeting their needs, as and when only God wills. Cola told me that the cricket is most happy because it understands that in this world it cannot cling to anything, not a scrap of food, not a note that it was born to sing, not even its life; Nothing belongs to ‘us’ in this world We must let it all go…
And laughing Cola said and we, humans, who are supposedly cleverer than animals, we try to cling to ‘our’ life as though we possess it just as our possessions possess us! We would be better off to learn from the happy and care free constantly singing cricket. Like Jesus died on the wood of the cross to give new life to the world, the cricket dies singing to God’s glory on the wood of a tree to give new life to its progeny. The tree of life that heard the cricket sing throughout its life may remain standing but of that cricket all that will be left behind is its happy notes and smiling empty envelope.
Yesterday I asked a local entomologist to verify Cola’s belief about the cricket living only on laughter and song. He told me that according to him that local deep rooted myth that the endemic cricket lives only on laughter and song is embedded in the fable of La Fontaine. I told him that to me it matters not where the belief originated from. But it matters immensely for me to know that even in today’s world there are people who can firmly believe that joy and peace, song and laughter can still feed some of us up to the time we are ready to let go, to split ourselves open and die for others to live a renewed life of happiness!
Jesus referred to the birds of the air and the flowers of the field. I am confident that when He returns, He will refer to the salmon of the Northwest, the endemic cricket of Rodrigues and the trusting local natives of this island that is so remote from the world that it has time to be close to the Word, to its creation, its songs and all the ever present glaring realities that feed it whether they are camouflaged to some yet plainly visible to others!
It seems to me that along that endless channel of perpetual happy new life ensuing from deaf, the prayer of St. Francis: Make me a channel of your peace… takes on its deepest and most real meaning. May we sing to God’s glory as we live every minute as if it were the last of our life.
I love you all. God bless you.
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