The urban environment of the San Francisco Bay region is unlike any that I’ve ever lived in, in that while it has plenty of pollution and concrete and population density, it is yet very close to some of the most beautiful natural areas in Northern California. There are spectacular places like Muir Woods, where treasured groves of ancient redwoods stand less than an hour’s drive from San Francisco. In other places the natural world is even closer at hand, but in ways in which most of us are usually unaware.
As I wrote about in a previous piece, we live in the Berkeley “flatlands,” with the Bay to the west; as one goes east, one goes gradually uphill, and the eastern border of the city runs along the crests of hills above downtown and the University of California campus. There are about ten creeks that flow out of these hills through some part of Berkeley and its neighboring cities, on their way to the Bay. However, most of these creeks are underground today; they have been constrained into culverts under our streets and yards and parking lots. Many of us go about our business unaware of the trickles of water running under our feet in various places.
There have been efforts in recent years to bring more of our urban creeks into daylight; here and there, you can hear the sound of water running at the surface in the middle of town. Strawberry Creek, which runs through central Berkeley, runs aboveground for most of its length on the university campus, and there is a city park further to the west where you can follow its course amidst grassy slopes and trees for a block or two. But these are exceptions to the rule.
In fact, our meeting has its own culverted body of water, Schoolhouse Creek, which runs under our parking lot. It actually comes into daylight just on the other side of our property line, behind a fence, and then runs through the back yards of some of our neighbors. I fantasize now and then about having all of our asphalt torn up and bringing that creek aboveground again on our property, but I doubt that would be practical. First of all, there would be nowhere to park for the people who come to our food pantry, or the parents whose children attend the school that rents space from us. Second, because of all the layers of earth and concrete and asphalt that have been put down over the years, the creekbed is actually well below grade. Bringing it back into daylight would mean creating a miniature canyon, with a fairly steep drop on either side down to the water, which doesn’t seem safe. So I regret that our little piece of this treasure will likely need to remain buried.
Thinking about creeks in culverts underground, I think also about some of Jesus’ words concerning living water in the Gospel of John:
On the last and greatest day of the festival, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.” By this he meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive.
John 7:37–39, NIV
Sometimes our spiritual lives are rich and full, pervaded with the flow of the Spirit, the living water of which Jesus speaks. Sometimes this flow can be a surprise, as when we come upon an underground creek that seems suddenly to plunge into the daylight, transforming its surroundings and blessing the landscape. At other times, however, it is as if that living water is running in a culvert, subsumed under the daily press of busy-ness and frustration and pain. In these times, it seems that the water is nowhere to be found, and we are indeed in a barren place.
I need regular reminders that this living water is ever near—much nearer than the waters of that creek buried in our parking lot. I need to be reminded that God’s desire for our lives is to let that water flow out of each of us, transforming us and our surroundings and blessing those around us. Sometimes I hear those reminders in the quiet of prayer; sometimes I see them in the lives of those around me; sometimes I read them in the Scriptures.
Each of us can reach to that place in our lives where we allow the river of life to flow closer to the surface—but as Jesus tells us, we need to remind ourselves of the Source. We need to reaffirm our faith in a fresh inward encounter with Christ. As we draw nearer to him, we shall find again that Source, and the living waters of the Holy Spirit will flow.
~Brian Young
This piece was adapted from a devotional written for a Berkeley Friends Church picnic.
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