Friday, August 7, 2026From the news

Havens of Peace Amid the Wild: God's Care for His Creatures

The Hurulu Eco Park, a refuge for elephants in conflict with human expansion, mirrors God's tender provision for all creation, inviting us to rest in His merciful care.

These all wait upon Thee, to give them their food in due season. When Thou givest it to them, they gather it; when Thou openest Thine hand, all things shall be filled with Thy goodness.

Psalm 104:27-28 (103:28-29 LXX)

O Lord, how manifold are Thy works! In wisdom hast Thou made them all; the earth is full of Thy creation.

Psalm 104:24 (103:25 LXX)

And God saw everything that He had made, and indeed it was very good. And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day.

Genesis 1:31

Dear friends, imagine the vast plains of central Sri Lanka, where the mighty elephants of Hurulu Eco Park roam freely, grazing without fear. In these days, as intensive agriculture claims more of their ancient habitats, conflicts arise—tragic encounters between human needs and the wild majesty of God's creatures. The NPR story paints a gentle picture of respite: a place set apart where elephants can simply be, feeding on the land as the Creator intended. It is a quiet mercy amid the tension, a haven that whispers of deeper harmony.

We ache with the brokenness of our world, where progress often wounds the delicate balance of creation. Elephants, those towering icons of strength and memory, driven from their paths, remind us of the groans St. Paul describes in Romans, the whole earth yearning for redemption. Yet take heart, beloved ones. In this park, we glimpse the steadfast goodness of God, who from the beginning looked upon all He made and called it very good. As St. Basil the Great teaches in his Hexaemeron, every beast glorifies its Maker by simply living according to its nature—grazing, wandering, praising through existence.

Listen to the psalmist: 'These all wait upon Thee, to give them their food in due season. When Thou givest it to them, they gather it; when Thou openest Thine hand, all things shall be filled with Thy goodness.' Here in Hurulu, the open hand of Providence is evident. The elephants gather the grass, the plants man once tended now serve both plow and pachyderm in measured peace. St. John Chrysostom would urge us to see in such wonders the ladder of theosis, our ascent to divine likeness. For creation is no mere backdrop but an icon, painted by the Logos Himself, drawing our gaze to the Father's compassionate heart.

The Desert Fathers knew this intimacy with the wild. St. Seraphim of Sarov fed bears by hand, living in symphony with beasts as with brethren. In their lives, we learn that true repentance is a return to Eden's harmony—a turning from strife to the prayer of the heart, 'Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy.' When habitats shrink and tempers flare, let us remember: Christ, the Merciful One, became man not only for us but to heal all that He loves. The liturgy echoes this in every 'Alleluia,' praising the beauty that veils eternity.

So, as evening falls like a soft Vespers veil, let us sit quietly with this news. The elephants of Hurulu teach us patience, grazing in trust. Amid our own conflicts—the hard weeks, the losses—God opens His hand. Creation's fullness invites us deeper into His life, where mercy flows unhindered. O Lord, how manifold are Thy works! In wisdom hast Thou made them all. Take heart, dear ones; His havens endure, and so does His promise of restoration for every living thing.