“Now the earth was corrupt in God’s sight and was full of violence. God saw how corrupt the earth had become…so God said to Noah…’I am going to bring flood waters on the earth to destroy all life under the heavens…'” [Genesis 6: 11-17]
You have to be careful how you say the word “water” as of late. The community that I find myself living and working in, is one with a serious water problem.
Of course, the problem of the water is entirely dependent on which side you find yourself pressed against, and who you believe, like anything else in life. Is the water unclean, or is it just the overreaction of those “left-wing, nut-job media enthusiasts?” Have the citizens of this community been bamboozled year after year, questions unanswered, totally ignored…or did they even ask questions at all?
Will this water actually give me cancer? Will it make me sick, like the Mexican water did back in 07′? Are we on a boil water advisory? Is that even a real thing? I’m being told I can ignore it by some people, and others won’t touch a coffee pot percolating the unclean Martin County water. Flint had a real crisis – Mercury in their water. Is ours that bad?
Water is not a safe topic of conversation anymore.
“And have you seen the water that you drink? Is it you who brought it down from the clouds, or is it We who bring it down? If We willed,
We could make it bitter, so why are you not grateful?” [Qur’an 56: 58-70]
Water has always fascinated me on about a hundred different levels. Certainly, molecularly, water is fascinating. For fear of sounding idiotic, I’ll pretend I don’t want to bore you with “science,” (when really I just don’t remember much from my 11th grade Chemistry class)…but water can take the form of all three states of matter. We can breathe water into our lungs when it’s in the form of a gas, or we can drown in it, if it’s liquid…or we can slip and fall on it if it’s a solid.
Water has the ability to cleanse, right?
You all know those scenes in movies – something bad has happened – a death, a violation, an unwanted epiphany, a diagnosis – and the main character stands looking into the faucet as the water washes over their skin. Comfort pours out like rain.
I was baptized last summer in the water of the Jordan River, and I’ve never felt cleaner.
I was able to float in the Dead Sea last summer, too. The miracles of water!
Water can cleanse.
“… I’ll always keep an extra supply of chocolate and rain boats nearby, ‘cause there is no heartbreak that chocolate can’t fix. Okay, there’s a few heartbreaks chocolate can’t fix. But that’s what the rain boots are for, because rain will wash away everything if you let it.” [Sarah Kay, “If I Should Have a Daughter]
Water can destroy.
I remember watching images of Hurricane Katrina. I remember seeing people on their roof tops, waiting to be rescued by those helicopters that hovered on my television screen. Never mind the fact that another helicopter hovered nearby – not to save anyone, though. Just to bare witness to the power of the water. A new and sick spectator sport – watching people who are suffering while sipping rosé in Malibu.
I saw my state ravaged by floods last summer.
I saw the Tug River begin filling the basins on Turkey Creek just two nights ago. The water was creeping into the roadway, fingertips reaching towards it’s other half – as if Mother Nature recognized that roadway as just another piece of land to reclaim and renew. I saw the trash from the Appalachian riverbanks making its way down to destinations unknown. The trash that littered the newly-cleaned banks of my home will only get pushed along to an unwilling trash collector. Disgusting.
I saw waterfalls, and I saw and felt roaring white water- look out for the cheese grater rocks, because the river water holds no bias. You can get sucked under just as easily as the person sitting next to you. Riptides. Waves that surprise and destroy. That tsunami in Asia way back when…news coverage that was unimaginable. A man standing on the beach, not bothering to run, looking straight ahead at his fate – an image seared into my brain, but one I always think about when my toes find the water of an ocean.
How can something so naturally cleansing become something so dangerous?
“[iii.5] … the storm
… were yoked
Anzu rent the sky with his talons,
He … the land[iii.10] and broke its clamor like a pot.
… the flood came forth.
Its power came upn the peoples like a battle,
one person did not see another,
they could not recognize each other in the catastrophe.[iii.15] The deluge belowed like a bull,
The wind resounded like a screaming eagle.
The darkness was dense, the sun was gone,
… like flies.[iii.20] the clamor of the deluge.” [Epic of Atra-hasis, Babylonian Flood Story]
And now, back to this topic of water in Martin County.
I have been witnessing a division that seems almost comical, in a way, if I might be so bold. We don’t have water, so everyone is pointing fingers at everyone else. It’s everyone else’s fault because obviously it has to be a person’s fault. Or one single group’s fault. Obviously!
We have water, but it’s not clean enough, so everyone is pointing fingers at everyone else. We don’t have water, so everyone is pointing fingers at the sky. We have too much water, so everyone is pointing fingers…at the sky again?
I still can’t say the word “water” without starting a debate. I can’t have a gender reveal party (or whatever those things are called) without inciting violent threats and hate. I can’t reasonably point out the irony/potentially bad-timing of said “gender reveal party” without inciting violent threats and hate. I can’t say the word “w&%#@” anymore…it’s like a curse word… and that is terrifying…but can I drink it, or not?
“The… land shattered like a… pot.
All day long the South Wind blew …,
blowing fast, submerging the mountain in water,
overwhelming the people like an attack.
No one could see his fellow,
they could not recognize each other in the torrent.
The gods were frightened by the Flood…”[Epic of Gilgamesh, Mesopotamian flood legend]
There’s a poem I like, that many of you may have heard. One line references the narrator’s frustration with being surrounded by ocean water: “water, water, every where, nor any drop to drink.” How interesting to realize that we as humans demand so much perfection and convenience, we can’t even look out to an infinite ocean horizon without being immediately frustrated by our inability to totally control it or utilize it at our whim.
We want control, but we don’t want to take responsibility. We want convenience, but don’t want to actually take steps to make necessities like water convenient and healthy. If there’s a problem, fix it…but if you’re not trying to fix the problem, don’t keep complaining.
“Be careful what you wish for” is an old adage that comes to mind when I think about the filth and hate I’ve witnessed as of late. Division even amongst people who cry out “unity!” Irony and hypocrisy flow as freely as the flood waters.
“He waited seven days and again sent out the dove from the ark. When the dove returned to him in the evening, there in it’s beak was a freshly plucked olive leaf! Then Noah knew that the water had receded from the earth.” [Genesis 8: 10-11]
I’m waiting for the promise of happier times and happier people and moments where an entire region doesn’t hate one another for reasons they can’t quite explain. I’m anxious for the olive branches of honest dialogue, with no more finger pointing.
…But I’m afraid that the dove might not be ready to return to the Ark, yet. The ground is still covered in water, and until people move away from computer screens in favor of real human interactions and looking each other in the eyes, the dove won’t find any sign of life among us at all. Just flood waters.
Be careful what you wish for.
haliewanders 