There are many versions of the legend of John Henry Bosworth but the Paul Stookey song that bridges the story to our living asks a question that reaches into my soul, “…if you had been to the mountain / To look at the valley below?”   Not until several hours after alighting the chopper did I get a partial insight into how spectacular the vista of the coral reefs is.  For a moment I saw with the lofty kingly eyes of Psalm 2, for a moment I saw with the scimitar eyes of the king in Psalm 72 and for a moment I saw with my own eyes how vast the benefits of creation goodness are — a gift for all generations. From great heights I saw a vast water coloured world. A flood redemption.

“Did you see all the roads tangled down in the valley?”  From the pinnacle perspective I was granted a view of the valleys below — I saw the coral reefs (dead and dying and resurrected and alive).  The valley of death of the Psalmist in 23 was met with the restoration of a kingdom.  The groaning of creation and the miracle of Genesis meet to remind us again of the grace of nature.  New coral is growing on the foundation of thousand year old reefs.

“Did you know which way to go?”  The song underscores our uncertainty.  Between the natural tide line and the tidal plastic wash we want to chose sides.  Both are ours.  There is this impossible juggling between being responsible for creation and harnessing it with a Genesis grace.  Sometimes it feels futile being human.  Condemned.  Frustrated.  Yet, when my eyes see the glory, see the majesty, see the vastness, then there is a glimpse at the possible.

“Oh, the mountain stream runs pure and clear / And I wish to my soul I could always be here / But there is a reason for living way down in the valley / That only the mountain knows”  Looking down on the world, complaining about our role, puzzling about beauty — may not be reasons.  The reason for living in our time and place may be showing the way through the valley on our way to a kingdom.