In a not-too-distant country, there was a fire department. This department was made up of some volunteers, a few professionals, and few people that didn’t really understand what was going on. All of them, however, had come together because they could see the smoke of fires, feel the heat, and hear the screams of people in danger from the fires that were raging around them. None were compelled to be there, except the compulsion that compassion brought them.
For a time, they fought the fires well together. Professional firefighters provided some guidance about the best ways to fight the fire, but didn’t hesitate to get their hands dirty by handling hoses, axes, and extinguishers. By far, the volunteers made up the bulk of the firefighting force. Yet they fought the fires as best they could. Both groups would fight the fire and rescue those threatened by it, and often then found part of their efforts used in training these newly rescued people how to fight the fires with them.
Some were passionate to fight the fires that were so distant, the smoke could hardly be seen. Others fought where the fire was hot beside them. All encouraged one another, because wherever the fire, there were people at risk, and wherever it could be fought, it was being fought. There were even those who didn’t fight much fire first hand, but spent time in maintaining the flow of water and other supplies to the fire crews.
Many hands were fighting, yet the fire kept growing. Ultimately, the hoses that supplied the water to fight seemed to be inadequate. There were pauses in the firefighting to determine what had happened. Some felt that the water was being diverted to fight the wrong fires, others that it was leaking out between the hydrant and the nozzle. Still others worried that the aquifer from which it pumped was running dry, and yet a few more suspected that another fire department was swiping the water.
There were teams formed to study the problem. The difficulty was sorting out the problem from the symptoms. The symptoms were obvious: there was fire everywhere, and not enough water to put it out. The distant fires seemed to be faring the worst in this crisis, though the near ones were still hot.
And all the while, people were perishing from the heat, the smoke, and the flame.
Some wanted to run separate hoses to the distant fires, others wanted to increase the size of the main hose. There were advocates to replace the hose system altogether, but some remembered the stories of the bucket brigades, had even known firefighters in them, where as much time was spent running around to gather water as was spent actually fighting the fire, and feared a growth of that method. There were advocates of chasing every leaked drop of water from the hose, and a handful that thought a new well should be drilled, a different aquifer tapped, even if the water wasn’t quite as clean as their own.
And all the while, the heat, the smoke, and the flame consumed its victims.
The professionals, at least some, felt that the volunteers were to blame. After all, the volunteers often manned the pumps, and it was necessary to share water with them to keep them pumping. Surely too much was being expended on watering the pumps. Other professionals were concerned that some of their fellow professionals were drinking too much of the water themselves, especially during the many breaks they seemed to be taking. There were volunteers that felt all the professionals were using up too much water on themselves, and volunteers that saw water loss by any of the professionals besides the one closest to them.
And all the while, as the flames grew, the smoke billowed, and the heat rose, people were lost.
Then came some who had been fighting the distant fires, and they were concerned that many were there to fight the near fires, though few fought them. Most spent their time sipping water and lamenting the scorched earth of the fire’s effects, and occasionally lending a hand to keep the fire just enough away for their comfort. Some of these even used water to plant gardens by the pumps, or tried to rinse the soot from burned earth, while just a step farther and they could have rescued the closest victims. The distant firefighters, having seen the apathy towards fire in their home, were far from encouraged at the sacrifice and effort they were putting forth, but went back to fight the fires anyway. Yet as the hoses sputtered, they couldn’t help wonder what was happening back at the pumps.
And all the while, the heat is intense, the flames are growing, and the smoke is billowing, and people are being lost.
It is certain that there are some serious maintenance issues. There are supply issues, and there remain questions of leaky hoses, pampered professionals, and volunteers at ease. It is certain that some crews have gone off to tap their own hydrants, drill their own wells, and even returned to the bucket brigade. Yet can we continue to debate the methods while the fire rages on?
I think not.
If we need to run an extra hose, let’s run an extra hose. If we need to stop watering the gardens planted by the pumps, let’s stop watering them. If we need to re-do the entire hose system, let’s do it. At this point, if this department runs with big chiefs, then say so. If the hose layout will change, then do it. If we will no longer fight this fire or that fire, if we will not use the small pumps, if we must have this brand of hose, then say so and be done with it.
Why? What if we have firefighters go to other departments? Let them do so and fight the fire there! I cannot say I might not join them, if that is where I can best fight the fires.
Meanwhile, as the water leaks, as we consult, as we talk and sip water in our flower gardens, the fire is raging.