"50th ANNIVERSARY OF EARTH DAY"
(Rev. Alan Jenkins serves as a parish associate at Oakhurst Presbyterian Church, serving on the CreationWise team. Originally ordained to an eco-justice ministry to the Presbytery of Greater Atlanta, he is now a full-time hospice chaplain with Harbor Grace Hospice’ in-patient unit at Atlanta Medical Center. Find him fishing, riding his bicycle, advocating for the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)’s divesting of oil companies, and at jenkins.alan73@gmail.com or https://www.facebook.com/alan.jenkins.520.)
Earth Day poses a seemingly heretical question to me: Does Christianity have what it takes to live in harmony with God’s Creation? Do our ecclesial traditions lead us to relate to the eco-systems that give us life (air, water, soil, millions of diverse biological species, etc) in such a way to sustain our bodily needs and maintain ecological balance? Does our theology lead us to infinite wonder and awe of God’s Creation enough to not only preserve it, but to savor it? To defend and fight for it from empire-like, ravenous forces? Or even prevent us from simple temptations of modern convenience?
I cannot help but wonder about spirituality of First Nations / Native Americans Peoples. To defend sacred, life-giving water, they put their bodies down in front of bulldozers’ building oil pipelines. They organize to deconstruct hydro-electric dams so salmon can run free. Their spiritual traditions are in synch with the seasons and the cycles of biological life. They refer to other living beings as “all my relations,” as if they were as important and valued as human life. Our Christian liturgical seasons, on the other hand, have little to do with harvest, with soil, with “all our relations,” with fall, winter, summer and spring. [Before I’m labeled a heretic for asking these questions: I do believe that our Creator God, as witnessed in the Old and New Testament, does give what we need for an ecologically sustainable, regenerative, earth-healing livelihood. Yet we must also humble ourselves to learn from other traditions, such as indigenous peoples].
Since the catastrophic El NiƱo of 1997-1998 (intense floods and droughts throughout the Americas), the climate crisis garnered my theological attention. Lately, the most hopeful theological lens I’ve come across in this realm revolves around a rather ironic theme: apocalypse! Author Theodore Richards’ book The Great Re-imagining: Spirituality in an Age of Apocalypse got me started. He rightly describes apocalypse as both the end and the beginning of the world … as we know it. For example, the Middle Passage of West Africans, ripped from their mother land and enslaved in The New World was apocalyptic. Their world was obliterated, an end. The only way to survive was a beginning, to create a new culture, a new theology, a new language, all in the face of oppression. This example is one of many, from the Holocaust, to mass migrations, to natural catastrophes.
And, today, we find ourselves in the midst of an even larger apocalyptic event, punctuated by a slightly smaller apocalyptic event, COVID 19. The larger one is, of course, the climate crisis: tipping points lead to catastrophes, lead to hurricane Katrina in New Orleans and to ever-intensifying wildfires in California, to failed crops from Guatemala and the Mid-West.
Apocalyptic talk usually instills fear within us, and rightly so. The world as we know it is ending. Normalcy and predictability that many were comfortable with will no longer be. We’re in new territory, and technology alone will not save us. And, yet, if we’re faithful to the journey that apocalyptic times require, we may pass through this threshold transformed, closer to the Beloved Community where new leaders, new ways of being community, and new ways of relating with Earth emerge. Apocalyptic talk, then, is not something to fear. Rather, amidst the world’s evermore revealed injustices, apocalyptic talk opens a window to a new world we can spring towards.
I’m reminded of what I’ve heard about a particularly bold, brutal yet transformative event in the Civil Rights Movement. After a long campaign in April of 1963 in Birmingham, a street march was organized in early May, where even children were allowed to participate. Organizers knew that the dogs and fire hoses might come out, and they knew the cameras would be rolling for a national audience. This intensification of the conflict and the gruesome images splashing front page news across the country forced the power brokers to come to the table, to hear voices long since silenced- voices urgently needed to help this nation become a more democratic, just union.
The COVID 19 pandemic wasn’t as boldly intentional as the planned actions in Birmingham were; nonetheless, the pandemic intensifies the numerous conflicts already ongoing, and thereby opens windows. An apocalyptic opportunity, however painful, is in the making. To name just a few areas: Our privatized, employer-based health care system is now ever more clearly exposed for its inadequacy and inequality. The injustice of mass-incarceration is receiving a much-needed spotlight right now. With dramatic improvement in air quality, a Stanford University study estimates 50,000 – 70,000 lives are being saved in China from absence of air pollution. This is also an opportunity to explore what strengthens our body’s immune system. Clean air is one of them, and Black revolutionary urban farmers like Rashid Nuri in Southwest Atlanta (Truly Living Well Center for Natural Urban Agriculture) are showing that locally grown, organic fruit and vegetables are another. The youth working those garden beds, by the way, are the same youth leading the global climate strikes.
So, it’s the 50th Anniversary of Earth Day, prompting my question: Does Christianity, do we Christians, have what it takes to live in harmony with God’s Creation? Here in this apocalyptic Eastertide, may we allow God to use us as the new creation in Christ that we are, a creation compatible with all Creation!
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