The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me; because the LORD hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; To proclaim the acceptable year of the LORD, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn; To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified. (Isaiah 61:1-3)

I don’t remember many sermons from my teen years, but I do recall the first time I heard one based on this picturesque prophecy from Isaiah.  “Beauty for ashes” was the theme, and it was about how God will take the negative things in life and turn them into something of beauty.  That, in fact, was what God seemed to do with the modern wilderness prophet John Muir.

Muir House, Martinez, CA

John’s stern and dour father, Daniel, had, among other things and with threat of the rod, compelled his kids to memorize the New Testament and many passages from the Old Testament. Daniel’s fondness for Scripture and meanness toward his children created great discord in their hearts, and John sought to escape as soon as he was old enough.  For the rest of his days, as far as we know, church and formal expressions of the Christian faith were not a part of his life.  But the Scriptures never left him. Nor did his understanding of God’s love expressed in nature.

For the past year I’ve been reading a lot of Muir’s writings—and have come to understand why his works remain popular even after a hundred years.  Besides his elegant prose, analogies, terms, and phrases from the Bible pop up all over in his books.  This Isaiah passage came up in his book The Mountains of California. He was describing the volcano blasted region around Mt. Lassen in Northern California, one of my favorite places.  After commenting on the impact of more recent eruptions on the land surrounding this still active volcano, he spoke of the areas long untouched by lava and ash, which were again vibrant with life:

Less recent craters in great numbers roughen the adjacent region; some of them with lakes in their throats, others overgrown with trees and flowers, Nature in these old hearths and firesides having literally given beauty for ashes.

His use of the term was in fact a continuation of the metaphors used by the Isaiah—the prophet going on to define Israel’s divine purpose:  “that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that He might be glorified.”

It may well be this passage that motivated John Muir himself to glorify the Creator in his life and writings and to, in essence, become the prophet of natural beauty.  The glacier-fed big trees of the Sierra—that I recently saw once again—seemed to overfill his soul with delight, as did the fresher forests of Alaska:

Look at that now! Why, it looks as if these giants of God’s great army had just now marched into their stations; every one placed just right, just right!  What landscape gardening! What a scheme of things!  And to think that [God] should plan to bring us feckless creatures here at the right moment, and then flash such glories at us!  Man. We’re not worthy of such honor!  “Praise God from whom all blessing flow”! [Note that every sentence ends with an exclamation mark.]

Photo source: Cornforth Images

Amen, John!

Watch a YouTube version of the Doxology (“Old Hundredth”)

Photos of the Muir house from my recent trip to California.  Trees among the cinders from a visit to Lava Beds National Monument