Bushfires 2009

 
LATEST UPDATE - 23 AUGUST 2009
 
Bushfire Recovery
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
LATEST UPDATE - 4 APRIL 2009 
 
the ABC Radio National's Encounter interview
with Fr Steele and Br Brendan.
 

 
LATEST UPDATE - 28 MARCH 2009
 
50 days later ...
 
 
A day after the bushfires
 
50 days later
 
 
 
A day after the bushfires
 
50 days later
 
 
 
*************
 
Some recent photos of the property
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
LATEST UPDATE - 12 MARCH 2009
 
Watch ABC Landline's interview with our Br Brendan Gaynor
 
 

 
LATEST UPDATE - 8 MARCH 2009
 
Homily of the First Sunday of Lent
By Fr Steele Hartmann
 
‘Immediately afterwards the Spirit drove him out into the wilderness and he remained there forty days, and was tempted by Satan.’ (Mark 1:12-13) Today is the first Sunday of Lent. Today we enter our forty days through Ash Wednesday and the ash of our bush fires — a reminder to me of my own entry here back in 1983 when again bush fires consumed Victoria and I wasn’t sure whether there was a monastery left for me to enter. In our present tragedy we have entered our own wilderness: lost loved ones, lost homes, lost dreams, horror, suffering and an aftermath of grieving, shock, disbelief, and not knowing how or where or what. Wilderness is that place where life is precarious, threatened, unpredictable. How truly we know this here and now. Here we are tested, here we have to wrestle: How can God do this? Why did God not protect us, prevent this from happening? We who are left behind still have life, and we have to go on, picking up the pieces … it can seem all too much.
 
Yet it is out of this wilderness/into our wilderness that Jesus comes preaching, “The time has come and the kingdom of God is close at hand. Repent and believe the Good News.” (Mark 1:15) Our reaction, I guess, can tend to be little different to that of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus after Jesus’ crucifixion. With Jesus’ death their world was torn apart and they are downcast. They knew Jesus to be a great prophet by the things he did, and their hope was that he would be the one to set Israel free; he was the centre of their hopes and dreams. Yet he was taken from them by force and killed, and they are left with nothing but to walk away. They tell all this to the stranger who walks with them, and they go on: “And that is not all: two whole days have gone by since it all happened, and some women from our group have astounded us — they went to the tomb in the early morning, and when they did not find the body, they came back to tell us they had seen a vision of angels who declared he was alive.” (Luke 24:13ff) In their world, so overshadowed by the cross, this message of hope and Good News just seems all so … asinine. So, too, for us: Jesus’ message, “Repent and believe the Good News,” as we struggle picking through the pieces of our world left by the fires, can seem just as stupidly irrelevant.
 
Repentance, though, comes with a bad press. It seems to come all covered in sackcloth and ashes. Who would want it? especially today. Yet that is not what it is all about. Through the prophet Ezekiel God says to all who are cast down, “I do not wish the death of the sinner, but that he turn back to me and live” (RB P:38/Ezekiel 33:11) Repentance is more to do with a turning to life; what God wants is for us to live — to live even here in this place where we find ourselves. So Jesus says to us, “When you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that no one will know you are fasting.” (Matthew 6:17) God wants us, not to be getting about with long faces, but to live, and live even here.
 
I think that what this call to repentance is about is best explained by a story I once read of a priest interned in a Nazi concentration camp in Germany during World War II. After the war he found himself in a displaced persons camp, where a young soldier was taking down his details. The soldier asked him when he was liberated. He replied that he was liberated on something like the 6th May, 1942. The soldier stopped and said kindly, “No, no, Father. That can’t be right. We didn’t get here until 1945.” The priest replied, “You asked me when I was liberated, and that was on the 6th May 1942. For until that day I was living in sheer hell: brutality, barbed wire, barking guards, summary executions, starvation, forced labour, kept from all that was near and dear to me, … it was all just so unspeakably awful. Then one day, on the 6th May, I looked over and, there against the wall of our hut, a small plant had managed to grow up in the mud and neglect and had blossomed. I realised then that even here life was possible, and not only possible but that it was possible even here to grow and bloom, and that this was my call here.” He said, “Then the barbed wire ceased to be a fence keeping me in; it simply marked the perimeter of my world, within which I was called to be a priest to those people here, and God knows they needed someone. And so I was able to get on with being a priest and serving my God, which is all I ever wanted to do and this I did.”
 
Like ourselves, this priest no doubt had wrestled with all those kinds of questions that beguile us when disaster befalls us: Why has God done this to me? Why has he let this happen to me, when I have given him my all? I don’t know that there is an answer to these kinds of questions. And anyway, even if there were, they would change nothing. Things just are as they are, and what we have is life. Those whom disaster has swept away did not choose to die; they did not want to die. Nor would they want us to die; we have what they no longer have, and they would not take it from us. Even their call to us is to live — live for them, if nothing else. In the midst of adversity, the call is always to live and grow and blossom, even here. This is what repentance is all about; this is what Lent is all about, with its sights set not on Good Friday’s cross, which it seems all life must pass by, but on Easter’s Resurrection. So here and now Jesus says to us, “Repent and believe the Good News.” This message of the New Covenant is not so different to that of the Old, when God made his pact with the Israelites out there in the wilderness: “Today I set before you life or death, blessing or curse. Choose life, then, that you and your descendants may live.” (Deuteronomy 30:19) And, should we need to see a small plant growing out of this mess and flowering, can we really go past the tremendous outpouring of overwhelmingly generous support? Is this not the hand of the God who is with us, held our to those in danger of sinking into the waters of chaos? (Matthew 14:31)
 
 

 
LATEST UPDATE - 7 MARCH 2009
 
 
Since Black Saturday, there have been one or two days of serious fire danger, with new fires breaking out and four major fires continuing to burn in forested areas. On Monday 2 March, in anticipation of the next day’s grave emergency, with more high temperatures and strong winds, the community revisited its fire plan. There were all-night patrols on Monday as we braced for the onslaught. The next day however, though the thermometer climbed and the winds were strong and blustery the feared outcome did not eventuate – probably due to the high level of preparation throughout the state. Tuesday evening we planned more patrols but, instead, there was a dramatic drop in temperature and then the rain came and continued throughout Wednesday. Even though the effects of Black Saturday are still being widely experienced, it seems that the worst has passed. 
 
     
 
     
 

 
LATEST UPDATE - 22 FEBRUARY 2009
Day of National Mourning for Bushfire Victims
Homily by Fr Michael Casey
 
       
 
After a brief period that has allowed us to step back from the immediate horror of the firestorm which ravaged so many homes and brought grief to so many hearts, we are today called upon as a nation to come together to mourn what has been lost – but also to raise our hearts from the blackened ruins that surround us, to look upon what remains with a keener eye and perhaps to appreciate more completely the gifts with which life has endowed us.
 
As a Christian community we are touched no less than others by the plight of those who suffer most, but our faith in the God of love helps us to begin to see beyond the desolation. We are saved from total despair by our Christian hope; and it is from hope that we draw strength to rebuild shattered lives and to move beyond the unavoidable sadness and anger and confusion to the solid ground of unyielding faith in the puzzling providence of God.
 
This week the Church calls us to begin Lent with the ritual of Ash Wednesday – a day which, since the Ash Wednesday fires of 1983, reminds us of the savage power of untrammelled fire. In this traditional rite we see how the Church’s view of human reality is so different. The Lenten season of regeneration and renewal begins with ashes but it ends with the triumphant fire of Easter and the chant of alleluia. We think that fire comes first and then the ashes. Look around you – the fires have passed but the ashes remain. The Church begins with ashes, with ruin, desolation and failure, and from this ugliness creates lasting beauty. During Lent the deathly hopelessness of ashes is transformed into the blazing glory of the resurrected Lord. Death is not the end but, by the mysterious power of the risen Christ, it is the beginning of a more abundant life. “See, I am doing a new thing” says the Lord. This is the Good News that the community of the Church exists to proclaim. Christ has died! Christ has risen.

The story of our salvation begins with the shame of Adam and Eve and their exclusion from the Tree of Life. It ends with high celebration in the Temple of the living God who will wipe away all tears from our eyes, where there will be no more death or mourning or sadness. Likewise, in each celebration of the Eucharist there is the same dynamic: we begin with the confession of our sin and separation from God, and we conclude with the mystery of communion. Out of death and disaster new life is given.
 
We all know that the Australian bush has a mysterious power of regeneration after fire. Seeds germinate, burnt stumps send forth shoots that in time become branches, and even now dead cinders are giving way to the first green glimmers of new growth. Hidden from sight, untouched by the devastation, there is a resurgent will to survive, to continue and to flourish.
 
  
 
We thank God that there are also signs of healing spontaneously emerging in our nation: concern, generosity, service, courage, self-forgetfulness – these are precious qualities at any time, and we feel a sense of pride that they are expressed so abundantly now that they are needed so much. The journey to recovery is long and wearisome and for many the agony will continue, perhaps for a lifetime; but where there are many who help bear the burdens, the pain becomes tolerable.
 
For us who may have endured less in these fires, this is a time for compassion; a time in which we offer to the suffering what consolation we can. It is a time for reflection in which we confront the precariousness of human life and the fragility of all we cherish. It is a time to re-focus our hope in the Cross of Christ, in the sure and certain faith that God has a future for us.
 
There will, no doubt, be an opportunity in the future to celebrate regrowth and new life. Today, however, is a day of unabashed mourning, a day of solidarity with those whose lives have been changed so radically and so tragically. It is a day for faith and hope and practical charity. And, as we gather in this church, it is a day of prayer for our nation, for those who suffered most, for those who died – and for us who live that we might learn from our experience at this time to live more consciously as members of the human family and as believers.
 
May the ashes of Ash Wednesday this and every year remind us of our experience during these days of horror. And may our yearly celebration of Easter resurgence reinforce our conviction that nothing at all – neither fire nor flood, neither fear nor sadness, neither the most intense suffering nor death itself – can separate us from the love of God made present in Jesus Christ our Lord. To him be glory and honour for ever and ever.
 
     
 
     
 
    
 
 

 
LATEST UPDATE - 19 FEBRUARY 2009
 
In conjunction with the National Day of Mourning
on 22 February 2009 (Sunday),
a Mass will be offered at 10.00 am in our monastic church.

All are welcome.
 
 

 
LATEST UPDATE - 18 FEBRUARY 2009
 
 
Below are some of the websites

  that mentioned about the bushfires at Tarrawarra Abbey 

  OCSO Generalate

The Order of St Benedict

 Genesee Abbey

 Weekly Times

 The Record

 Liturgy

 
 

 
LATEST UPDATE - 17 FEBRUARY 2009
 
 

Homily given by Abbot David Tomlins on 15 February 2009

 

Dear Brothers and Sisters,
 
 
Did you see Michael Leunig’s cartoon in the Age early in this past tragic week? He drew a single gum leaf and attached five words from that Dorothea MacKellar’s poem about Australia, “a sunburnt country”, that at least every Queensland school-child of my era learnt. The words were: “her beauty and her terror”. Here in the Yarra Valley we know that beauty well. In recent days we have also seen the terror.
 
 
In the midst of the terrible destruction and loss of life, the Australian beauty has stood out for me. The natural beauty has persisted or will revive. But it is the human beauty that has been most immediately in evidence. The magnificent stampede to help the survivors is surely a beauty we will never forget.
 
 
Australia has a proud tradition in its volunteer ethic. We do not have a monopoly on this value, of course. But it is one to be cherished and fostered. St. Paul encourages us this morning (1 Cor.10:31 - 11:1) to “try to be helpful to everyone at all times, not anxious about (our own advantage) but for the advantage of everybody else”. In many other places in his letters he makes the same call, reminding his disciples that “God loves the cheerful giver” (2 Cor.9:7). He wrote of himself: “I made myself all things to all” (1 Cor.9:22). And he concludes this morning: “Take me for your model, as I take Christ” (1 Cor.11:1).
 
 
Take me for your model, as I take Christ”. This week of tragic beauty has given us a host of our brothers and sisters as models of self-forgetful self-giving. In the time ahead it will be good for us to take time to internalise this spontaneous outpouring of goodness. As Christians, it will also be important to prayerfully receive these words of St. Paul and take them to our hearts: “Take me for your model, as I take Christ”. “As I take Christ”. This is the source for a deeper personal enrichment and an even more beautiful society. The Jesus Paul took for his model was a volunteer, a cheerful giver: “No one takes (my life) from me; I lay it down of my own free will” (John 10:18). The secret of such generosity is love. Before his Passion John tells us: “Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to pass from this world to the Father. He had always loved those who were his own in the world, but now he showed how perfect his love was” (John 13:1). It is by keeping the eyes of our hearts on this example that we will grow in love and share that love with one another.
 
Today’s gospel (Mark 1:40-45) also has a message of hope for us. The human body is a beautiful gift of God. Leprosy disfigures the body. The leper in his or her suffering, distress and need approached Jesus in confidence: “If you want to, you can cure me”. Jesus, the generous and compassionate one, responded: “Of course I want to! Be cured!” The beauty and health of the leper’s body was restored at Jesus’ loving word.
 
The terror of fire once again has ravaged the beauty of our State and its people. At the same time the people of North Queensland have known the destruction brought by flood. But let us bring our prayer to Jesus, trusting in God’s love: “If you want to, you can heal the lives of our brothers and sisters, and give eternal life to all those who perished”. “Of course I want to!” is his certain response, and he wants to through each one of us.

 

Photos of the property taken from the main road

 

 


 
LATEST UPDATE - 13 FEBRUARY 2009
 
 
The area in which the monastery is located has remained on fire alert this past week. South and west of the monastery there is no fire activity but to the north and to the east fires are burning in bushland less than 10 km from where we are. This morning the township of Healesville had a threat message for a time, but the urgency has diminished – so long as the wind does not change. The few days of milder weather and weaker winds have enabled more control lines to be established and some mopping up. We have ceased our night fire watches for the time being.
 
 
At the monastery the farm is fully operational. We have continued making sure that we attend to anything that could pose a danger in a fire situation. This is not such an easy task in a property of 400 hectares with tens of thousands of trees shedding bark and leaves, many kilometres of fence posts and wooden buildings.
 
 
This part of Australia has been in semi-drought these past ten years. Metropolitan water storages are down to one third of their capacity; annual rainfall has been substantially reduced and there was no rain at all in the month of January. The week beginning 25 January was marked by a record-breaking heatwave. At the monastery the outdoor temperature reached 49.6 degrees Celsius (about 120 degrees Fahrenheit) with almost no humidity. Grass withered, roses wilted, grapes shrivelled on the vine. The paddocks around the monastery were drier than any could remember.
 
 
Meanwhile we were more complacent than we should have been. We are surrounded by vineyards with elaborate watering systems. After some surprisingly good rains in November, we had cut hay in some paddocks and only low spiky tufts of grass were left. We had been advised by the local fire brigades to leave fire fighting to the professionals.
 
Before
 
After
 
The first week of February saw dire weather forecasts and urgent warnings that Saturday would be of unprecedented fire activity – a perfect storm was brewing. Our inner sense of danger went from green to amber but, like so many, we had no sense of imminent disaster.
 
Before
 
After
 
Saturday was hot; here we recorded 47 degrees. It was the gusting northerly winds that were dangerous bringing down intense heat from the centre of the country and searing currents of hot air that stripped the trees of leaves in a premature autumn and hurled bark from the eucalypts over lawns and buildings. Over 400 fires began burning in the rural areas of Victoria and smoke could be seen on every side. Most dangerously for us large fires were burning to the north and the strong winds were producing a rain of embers over the property. By the time they reached us they were dead, but it would need only one in a thousand to be still burning to set the property alight.
 
Before
 
After
 
Around 5.00 pm it happened: a spot fire began in the paddocks opposite the guest cottage, but it seemed to be almost under control when the wind changed and it turned back on itself to head north east, as we have already described. Another smaller spot fire, potentially more threatening, started closer to the monastic buildings but was extinguished.
 
 
We continue to be grateful that nothing worse occurred to us and to be mindful of those who suffered infinitely more than we did.  And we thank you for your concern.
 

 
LATEST UPDATE - 11 FEBRUARY 2009
 

It was only on Sunday morning that the extent of the devastation around us revealed itself. From all direction smoke spiralled upwards and fires smouldered over blackened ground. Kangaroos were seen bounding across the paddocks, their refuge among the trees on the riverbank still under threat. Stray refugee birds from the Kinglake national forest called out for companions and a dead silence hung thickly over the Yarra Valley.
 

Our Sunday Mass lacked its usual congregation; traffic along the road was still restricted and we were without electrical power and telephone, but we were thankful that we had escaped the danger so lightly. Mopping up continued and further preparation in case the fire front returned.
 

The heifers caught in the blaze were suffering terribly, ears, heads and udders badly burnt. A new-born calf was among the worst. After their inspection by the vet, a few were sent to the abattoir and the rest shot and their carcases removed. Meanwhile the rest of the stock had to be cared for, water supplies ensured and a high state of vigilance maintained.
 

 
As the days progressed and the weather has become milder, the emergency has eased, but we remain in a state of high alert with all-night patrols, watching for wind changes as fires continue to burn in nearby areas. Meanwhile we are hearing stories from neighbours and friends of danger and loss and we begin to appreciate that our troubles are slight.
 


We thank all those who have sent messages of concern. 

 


 

BUSHFIRES AT TARRAWARRA

 

The monks of Tarrawarra Abbey and all their buildings survived the devastating bushfires of Saturday 7 February, although about 150 acres of their property were burnt, 60 prime heifers that had just begun calving perished, new plantations of trees and much fencing were destroyed.

 

 

 

On Saturday afternoon, as the temperature climbed over 45 degrees and with hundreds of fires around the state, the monastery seemed to be safe, except for the very strong and gusty northerly winds blowing from the direction of the Kilmore fires. Embers and debris were falling so heavily that some thought it was rain on the roof. Then at 4.30 pm sirens were heard and a long line of fire trucks was seen headed for Yarra Glen

 

 

Frantic preparations and then, around 5.00 pm, a fire began in the paddocks below the guest cottage. With the help of a small unit from Tarrawarra Vineyard, our neighbours, this was quickly brought almost under control. Then the wind changed from north to south west and the embers roared into life quickly shooting up a gully along a row of trees bordering a dam towards the enclosure around Sr Diana’s hermitage, setting alight the grass on both sides, especially on the north. It then stormed up through the paddocks right up to the road, catching in its destructive wake some 60 heifers on the point of calving, setting alight thousands of new trees planted beside the road and setting the fences ablaze.

 

 

Meanwhile another spot fire erupted from a falling ember less than 100 metres from the church and library, in the parklands to the west of the monastic complex. Its progress was retarded by the service road to the north, but flames of about 45 cm height and generating fierce heat were moving inexorably eastward towards the monastery, fed by dry grass and detritus and threatening to set the tall trees alight. Fortunately a monk patrolling nearby gave the alert and the blaze was quickly brought under control, though it continued to smoulder through the night.

 

 

The immediate crisis quickly passed, but the danger remained high. All around the property fires were glowing in the darkness. To the south, only the narrow girth of the Yarra separated us from the fires burning on the opposite bank and to the north fire was creeping towards us from the other side of the road. Mopping up continued until after midnight and the whole area was constantly patrolled until dawn.

 

 

A MESSAGE FROM ABBOT DAVID TOMLINS

 

“Our overwhelming sense is one of immense gratitude to God for his palpable protection. Despite loss of some stock, fencing and tree plantations, we know that the blessing of preservation from injury and death and the survival of the monastic buildings in the chaotic conditions of Saturday was pure gift. Our deep sympathy and prayers are with all those who have suffered so much loss. We continue to pray for all the wonderful volunteers who have been out there giving themselves so totally for others in these tragic circumstances.”