Life Lessons from the National Parks

April 4, 2012

The scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet, until Shiloh comes.  Genesis 49:10

This week is the 150^th anniversary of the battle of Shiloh, fought in Tennessee on April 6 and 7, 1862.

Shiloh National Military Park commemorates this Civil War engagement with a slew of activities: caravan tours, which take visitors to important points along the battlefield; in-depth hikes to follow the movement of the troops; the debut of a new interpretive film, “Fiery Trail;” and a Grand Illumination, scheduled from dusk to 10 p.m. on April 7, with about 24,000 luminaries placed around the battlefield, each representing casualties from the battle (see details on these events here).

That number of men killed, wounded or missing in just this one battle is more than America had suffered in all previous wars. My cousin Sue sent me this link to a group of Civil War photos from The Atlantic magazine, and while there aren’t any photos of Shiloh among them, they’re a solemn reminder of the war’s devastation.

Side note: Fort Pulaski National Monument near Savannah, Georgia is also commemorating the 150^th anniversary of its Civil War battle. Activities will be held April 10-15, and include a special boat tour. And the National Park Service has a website devoted exclusively to the Civil War, since its sesquicentennial runs through 2015. It’s information about the war all in one place—history, battlefield locations, events calendar, and even a soldiers and sailors database.

But back to Shiloh. In the Bible, Shiloh is the place where the Israelites first set up the tent of meeting, the tabernacle (Joshua 18:1). Within the tabernacle was, among other things, the Ark of the Covenant, which held the tablets of the Law—the covenant—given to Moses by God. Those tablets had been sprinkled with the blood of young bulls as a peace offering, a kind of ritual ratification of the agreement between God and the people (Exodus 24:5, 6; Hebrews 9:18-21).

Exodus chapters 25 through 31 detail God’s instructions for the tabernacle’s construction and contents, while chapters 35 through 40 describe how the people carried them out. After all was done, “the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle” (Exodus 40:34). So when the tabernacle was set up in Shiloh, that city became the religious center of the nation, where God’s presence and power resided.

Shiloh means peace, and indeed many visitors find the Shiloh battlefield a very peaceful place. The National Park Service calls it one of the Civil War’s most pristine battlefields. But on those long ago April days, it was anything but peaceful.

Easter is a nice holiday in our culture. The weather usually is balmy, full of hope for warmer weather to come. Cute bunnies and chicks, bright springtime colors and lots of chocolate predominate.

But the getting to the first Easter wasn’t any prettier than the road to Shiloh was.

This week leading up to Easter, we reflect on the real reason for the season, Jesus’ sacrifice and death. Reading the accounts of His trial and especially His crucifixion at the end of the Gospels (the New Testament books of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John) do not paint a rosy picture. Jesus was whipped, spit upon, mocked and nailed to a cross to die an agonizing death. Like those young bulls whose blood sealed the covenant in the tabernacle, Jesus’ blood sealed the new covenant (Matthew 26:28). As Charles Ryrie puts it in his Study Bible’s Introduction to the New Testament, “The Old Covenant revealed the holiness of God in the righteous standard of the Law and promised a coming Redeemer; the New Covenant shows the holiness of God in His righteous Son.”  Jesus came “to minister in the sanctuary, and in the true tabernacle, which the Lord pitched, not man…Not through the blood of goats and calves, but through His own blood, He entered the holy place once for all having obtained eternal redemption” (Hebrews 9:12).

620,000 people gave up their lives during the Civil War. That was the price of conserving the Union, of making peace. But it took just one Man to bring us our Shiloh, to take on the punishment for all our sins, be our Prince of Peace (Romans 5:12-19, 1 John 2:2, 1 Corinthians 15:21, Isaiah 9:6), the One whom Scripture pointed to from the opening book of Genesis.

Something to celebrate not only at Easter, but all year ‘round!

Comments (1) Apr 04 2012

March 8, 2012

The Lord is in His holy temple; let all the earth be silent before Him.  Habakkuk 2:20

In my last post, I mentioned Haleakala’s awesome sights. Today I want to mention this national park’s other outstanding feature—silence.

In the Smithsonian article I referenced, the author opens the piece musing on the park’s solitude:

Entering Haleakala Crater, the enormous mouth of Maui’s largest volcano, in the Hawaiian Islands, feels like an exercise in sensory deprivation. At the crater floor, a desolate expanse of twisted, dried lava reached after a two-hour hike down a trail carved into its wall, the silence is absolute. Not a breath of wind. No passing insects. No bird songs. Then I thought I detected drumming. Was it the ghostly echo of some ancient ritual? No, I finally realized, it was my own heartbeat, thundering in my ears.

In 2008, National park Service acoustic experts found that the ambient sound levels within Haleakala crater were near the very threshold of human hearing.

 Wow!

Silence can be maddening or creepy, or it can be soothing. “If you spend any time at all inside Haleakala,” notes Kiope Raymond, associate professor of Hawaiian studies at the University of Hawaii Maui College, in the article, “you will be overcome by what Mark Twain called its ‘healing solitudes.’ It induces tranquility and encourages reflection.”

I too discovered that at Haleakala. While I didn’t go down into the crater, as I stood atop the summit, I was filled with the majesty and power of God in this awesome and quiet place. Really, it was too much to take in. All I could do was experience a mere hint of those qualities. Definitely a “be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10) moment.

We all need quiet in this noisy world. But we can’t live forever on a mountaintop or in a valley with only God and ourselves for company, so we need to find it whenever and wherever we find ourselves. And God promises to provide that rest and peace, those “healing solitudes” we crave, even in the midst of chaos.

Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Matthew 11:28, 29

Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27

Lasting peace isn’t found in a place, but in a Person. I pray we all will be able to enjoy special spots of quiet in our travels, but more importantly, that we’ll be able to revel in the “peace of God, which transcends all understanding,” (Philippians 4:7) wherever we are, provided freely for the asking by the “Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6) Himself.

He not only lives in Haleakala, but right beside us.

Comments (4) Mar 08 2012

November 29, 2010

In Jesus was life, and the life was the light of men. John 1:4

If you see a large glow in the sky over Washington County, Maryland this Saturday, don’t be alarmed. It’s just the luminaria.

Every year on December’s first Saturday, Antietam National Battlefield sets out sand-and-candle-filled bags to honor all the casualties of the bloodiest one-day battle in American military history.

Care to guess how many that is?

23,110. That’s one luminaria for each Union and Confederate soldier killed, maimed or lost on September 17, 1862.

A staggering number, isn’t it?

The bags are placed along a five-mile route through the battlefield. Apparently it’s quite a popular drive-through event—the park’s website warns that the line of cars to get in can be up to two hours long (no pedestrians allowed).

If you can’t get there, the site has a seven-and-a-half minute video explaining how the preparation is done, which includes panoramic shots of what the illumination looks like. Very moving.

Light is a central theme in Advent, the four Sundays before Christmas. We have an Advent wreath in our house—4 purple tapers surrounding a while pillar candle—and we do readings every night relating to this season when we celebrate Jesus’ birth. Each candle has a theme that centers on the Christmas story—prophecy, shepherds, angels and wise men. The one in the middle is for Jesus, whom the apostle John describes as “life,” “the light of men” and “the true light which, coming into the world, enlightens every man” (John 1:4, 9). Jesus called Himself “the light of the world,” providing “the light of life” to all who follow Him (John 8:12; 9:5; 11:9-10; 12:35-36, 46).

The Savior came into the world at a dark time for the nation of Israel. Nearly 2,000 years passed since any inspired prophet had arisen in the land, 400 between the completion of the Old Testament and the beginning of the New Testament writings.  I’m sure God’s people wondered when the Messianic prophesies were going to be fulfilled, and many were undoubtedly disappointed to realize they would never see them come to pass in their lifetime.

And yet…God was still at work. I won’t get into the events that occurred during that time that paved the way for Christ’s coming, but you can read about them in this article by Bible teacher Ray Stedman.

Needless to say, the Israelites were ready for some word, some revelation from God. And when that light came, that “good news of a great joy” (Luke 2:10), it was in the form of a baby, God in human form, who “became flesh, and dwelt among us” (John 1:14).

While I was on the Antietam website, I read a little more about the battle. The savage twelve-hour combat engaged nearly 100,000 men from both armies, concluding when Confederate General Robert E. Lee withdrew back across the Potomac River to Virginia, thus ending what had been his first invasion of the North.

I imagine the Union Army must have seen the outcome as a good news/bad news sort of victory. So horrible a fight, so many lost (if they’d known that the war was going to continue on for another two-and-a-half years, they would have been further disheartened).

And yet…a major victory had been won.

And that wasn’t all. Lee’s retreat gave President Lincoln the opening he’d been waiting for, to issue the preliminary Emancipation Proclamation abolishing slavery.

Many of the soldiers memorialized at Antietam never lived to know how much good their sacrifice accomplished for their country. But we do, and that is why we honor them.

Generations of Israelites also left this world not knowing that, as the beloved Christmas hymn, “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” puts it, “the hopes and fears of all the years” were met.

But we do. And that is why we memorialize Him, lighting our candles in a dark world to honor Him who brought good news amid the bad by making the greatest sacrifice of all, dying for the entire world “at the right time” and reconciling us to God (Romans 5:6-11).

Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace! Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings, Risen with healing in His wings.
Mild He lays His glory by, Born that man no more may die;
Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth.
Hark! the herald angels sing, “Glory to the newborn King.”

Comments (3) Dec 02 2010