“Boy, are we in trouble.”
I’m aware that your mind may have gone to any number of different places when I said that statement. It can seem like we are in trouble in so many ways right now. Take a deep breath. Breathe with me.
This phrase was recently uttered by Prof Sir Bob Watson at a press briefing for a report on the climate crisis. Watson chaired a United Nations assessment of “the nature crisis” from the Intergovernmental Science-Policy Platform on Biodiversity and Ecosystem Services (IPBES).
This organization is made up of member States in the United Nations. In early May it released a 40 page summary for policymakers outlining the most comprehensive assessment ever of the impact of humanity on the Earth and all life on Earth. They drew on 15,000 reference materials and, unlike most other assessments of nature, included in their study the stories, experiences and wisdom of indigenous peoples.
Their results? Boy, are we in trouble. One headline said this: “Humans are speeding extinction and altering the world at an unprecedented pace.” Humans have caused the extinction of thousands of species and one million more are at risk. One million species are at risk of extinction. The fossil record shows that there have been five mass extinctions, where as much as 95% of species disappeared. We are now on our way to the sixth mass extinction. This is the only one that has been human caused.
Our level of consumption has polluted the land, the water and the air. Our need for more food and energy are the drivers of this rush toward another mass extinction. As Watson put it, our actions over the past 50 years have made the scratches of human impact on the Earth throughout history into deep scars. Our history of commodifying nature by putting a financial value on the natural world has allowed us to treat the earth like any other product in the marketplace and ignore the full and sometimes unknown value of nature. It allows us to ignore the true value that nature gives to people.
Boy, are we in trouble.
The same week that the UN study came out, the Guardian News Service released an update to their style guide stating that they would no longer be using the term “climate change” because it does not reflect the seriousness of the situation we are in. Instead they will use climate crisis, emergency or breakdown. They are also changing their language about climate skeptics, saying that skeptics are seekers of the truth, looking for information when they have not yet reached a conclusion. Instead the Guardian will use the term “climate denier” to describe those who deny the overwhelming scientific evidence that human activity is causing climate chaos.
As I read this news, I despair, I get angry, I weep. Perhaps you have had this experience, too. Too much to take in, too much to hold. Just too much.
All is not lost, the UN assessment tells us. There is hope. These trends can be halted and perhaps reversed if we make (quote) “transformative change in every aspect of how humans interact with nature.” (endquote) What does that mean? It means that we need to think about nature differently. It means that we have to treat the earth as if we intend to live here. As the UN report says, (quote) “We need to change the stories in our heads.” (endquote)
We all have stories that we tell ourselves and each other. Those stories shape our reality and inform our behavior. In Western culture, our story is that progress equals more, and more is better: more money, more stuff. A good life means a better life than our parents had and working hard to make a better life for our children. A better life means more. The heartbeat of our economic system is more, more, more. Always more. Never enough.
And, a story of more is reinforced by placing a financial value on nature. A capitalist economic view places a financial value on everything. When we comodify nature, we put a monetary value on something that cannot be bought with money and that makes it easier to trade off things that are irreplaceable. We can estimate the value of feet of lumber or acres of land in a forest. How do we value the carbon dioxide removed from the air by the trees over the years of their life? How about the value of habitat for threatened species? How would we value the experience of beauty? Or wilderness?
Changing our stories is not an easy task, especially not when the stories are ancient and so embedded in our culture that we don’t even realize that they’re stories. The story of nature as separate from humanity and as something that has no other value than financial is an ancient story that is embedded in Western culture. It’s a story that goes back to Jesus.
If we were to travel to Europe to look at the art of early Christianity, we would find images that show people being rescued from danger, images of healing, images of baptism with the waters of life. Early Christian art depicts Jesus as a shepherd, shows Daniel with pacified lions, Jonah (of the whale story) resting in the shade of a tree, John the Baptist blessing the young child, Jesus. Early Christian art also shows beautiful scenes of nature: rivers of clear water, deer, doves, peacocks, swans. It shows a tree of life. It shows paradise.
This quest to examine early Christian art is shared with us by Unitarian Universalist theologian Rebecca Ann Parker and theologian and activist Rita Nakashima Brock in their book titled Saving Paradise. It is a follow-up to their first book, Proverbs of Ashes, in which they argue that the idea that Jesus died in agony in order to save the world and our souls has contributed to the sanctioning of violence and war. They identified this idea of “salvation through suffering” as central to Christianity, a core belief of the Christian faith. As they reflected further on their writing and listened in conversation with Christians of deep faith, they wondered if this was true–if salvation through suffering was indeed at the core of Christianity. They went in search of the dead body of Jesus, expecting that early Christian art would show the death of Jesus because it was so foundational. What they found was that images of the death of Jesus didn’t appear until 1000 years after Jesus died. As they put it, “it took Jesus 1000 years to die.”
For five years, Brock and Parker travelled through Europe and the Middle East, seeking out early Christian art in caves and churches, in mosaics and frescos. They found images of paradise in this world, beautiful scenes of nature, trees and clear water, tables overflowing and abundant with food and drink, animals and humans living in peace, clear night skies filled with brilliant stars. These images told a story of God blessing the Earth with the Spirit of Life that permeated the entire cosmos. These images were of plenty and enough for all. Paradise offered salvation through the baptism in the Spirit.
Brock and Parker created a work of deep scholarship that shows the idea of paradise on Earth going back 4000 years to stories from West Asia and how these stories were brought into the Hebrew Bible through the image of the Garden of Eden. They show how these stories of Paradise were used by ancient prophets to question the ethics of exploitation and war, oppression and violence.
And, they trace the history of Christianity over it’s first 1000 years as it sought to find it’s power in a struggle with Roman emperors. They show how this new religion of Christianity adapted and shifted to claim and assert it’s power. These shifts included moving gender roles away from equity and toward masculine models of leadership, establishing a uniformity of belief and creed as the basis of the church, placeing humans above and outside the natural world, and creating a fractured relationship with Judaism in order to differentiate itself. The shift was away from love, paradise, and toward power.
The first crucifixes that we have, images of Jesus on the cross, are from Northern Europe, dated to the 10th century. They were carved by Saxons whose ancestors were forced to convert to Christianity by Charlemagne’s army at sword-point. At that time and by those people, Christianity was associated with death. The crucifix tells this story of violence and death.
Brock and Parker tell us that the decisive turn toward violence was in 1095 when Pope Urban II launched the first crusade, an armed pilgrimage to “reclaim” the Holy Land with rewards in heaven for those who died in this new kind of war. This Pope claimed violence as not only just, but holy as crusaders killed Christians and Muslims in the name of religion.
The subtitle of Saving Paradise is this: “How Christianity Traded Love of This World for Crucifixion and Empire.” This work shows how a religion lost it’s focus on paradise and life in the quest for power. The focus shifted from “plenty” and “enough” to “more, more, more.” This corruption of an ideal through the quest for power is not unique to Christianity; it is possible of any ideal because the pull to power-over lives in each of us. The story of “more” calls to that power.
We have been steeped in the story of “more” for millennia. There is a different story in Western history and that story would help us save paradise. A story that we forgot. We have to reclaim the stories of our past and, as the researchers in the UN assessment have done, listen to the stories of the First Peoples who have not lost the image of paradise, those in frontline communities who are most affected by climate chaos. As the story for all ages told us, when we remember, we love.
This month we have been exploring the theme of commitment. As I reflected on this theme, I found hope in this quote from African American poet, activist and teacher June Jordan:
In addition to the traditional concept of true commitment that means you are willing to die for what you think is right, make equal space for the womanly concept of commitment that means you are willing to live for what you believe.
I will set aside for now any exploration of the “womanly” part of her quote; that’s a totally different topic.
What I found inspiring in Jordan’s words is the notion that perhaps we have heroism all wrong. Heroism isn’t sacrifice, suffering and death. Brock and Parker show us plenty of ways that these lead to violence of all kinds, including violence against the Earth and all beings. To be heroic is to be willing to live for what we believe. Heroism is being so committed to life, to plenty, to paradise that we are willing to live for it and live into it.
If that were the meaning of pro-life, I’d be the first to sign up!
The UN assessment of the nature crisis says that it is possible to make change, not easy but possible. We have to change our story from one of domination, exploitation, and death to a story of equity, abundance, and life. We have to shift our focus away from a limited paradigm of economic growth toward a model of enough for all. This model has to be implemented at the local, national and global levels.
So what can individuals do? Join together across the generations; we need each other and we are stronger together. Commit to political action. Run for office. Be a leader. And when you can’t lead, vote; it takes the power of the people to demand justice and elect representatives who will shift this paradigm. We have to support leaders who will speak the truth that our survival requires that we accept limits to growth; truths like: limits in population means support for family planning around the world; limits in carbon emissions means support for sustainable energy, sustainable transportation options, and support for those whose livelihoods will be impacted by change; limits in the consumption by most of us in is needed in order that all of us may rise.
And, we can commit to make choices that favor enough: reduce energy use, support nature in the ways that you can, choose a diet with the least environmental impact.
There are days when what we can do doesn’t seem like much and it is easy to despair. Days when I read the news through tears and anger. Activist Dorothy Day reminded us that no one has the right to sit down and feel hopeless, there is too much work to do. Rest, yes. Despair, no.
A few days after the UN assessment came out, I was moved by the writing of journalist Margaret Renki. She spoke about the truth of nature that something must die in order for others to live. Birds eat caterpillars, snakes eat birds. People eat animals and plants. How do we not despair in a world where death is a part of life and where nature is in crisis?
Renki writes this:
I don’t have the power to reclaim soil degraded by industrial farming practices. I can’t persuade equatorial countries to protect their rain forests. I’m not able to affect in any way the irresponsible decisions of my own country’s president…. much less those made by the leaders of other nations. But I can put up boxes for cavity-nesting birds and roosting boxes for bats. I can cultivate the host plants of butterflies, knowing that some of their caterpillars will feed baby birds. I can make my yard a haven for insects….I can keep my yard free from chemicals and let the wildflowers go to seed.
And I can remind myself, all day long every day, that there’s a difference between doing something and doing nothing. That “something,” small as it might seem, is not “nothing.” The space between them is far apart, limitless stretching distances apart. It’s the difference between a heartbeat and silence.
It is true that the resources of this Earth are finite and that death is part of our natural cycle. It is also true that the resources of the spirit are infinite and that there is power in reclaiming a story of life. May we have the strength to remember and reclaim our stories so that we can embrace life and save paradise.
May this be so.
Would you join me now if a time of prayer and reflection?
I invite you to settle into your chair, feeling the ground beneath you.
Take a deep breath in, breath in peace, breath out love.
Connect to Mother Earth, the source of life and plenty.
I invite you to listen to your heartbeat, placing your hand on your chest or your wrist or the side of your neck. Feel the beat of your heart. As you feel this rhythm, feel the heartbeat of all life.
Infinite Web of Life, Sweet Spirit of Love, Great Mystery in All,
We pause in this moment, grateful for this day, grateful for this Earth, grateful for this time together. May we be nourished by the abundance of all that we are and all that is.
We pause in this moment, feeling our heartbeat, feeling the heartbeat of our neighbors, feeling the heartbeat of all life. May we know that in the silence between heartbeats lies possibility, and that in the heartbeat itself lies hope.
We pause in this moment, knowing that we are connected; connected to universal love within us, between us and beyond us. May we draw on that love as we live in this world.
May we make the commitment to turn away from despair
and the pull to do nothing.
May we find the sustenance to do something, whatever that may be.
May we draw on the Spirit of Life for the nourishment to feed ourselves
and the world.
May this be so. Blessed Be. Amen.
Testimony 6-23-19
Goodbye to First Unitarian-Portland
Rev. Mary Gear
I came to this church to serve as the intern minister in January of 2015. I’d been talking to Tom for several months about the possibility of an internship here. It was close to home and I was curious to see how “big” church compared to my experience in other big organizations. Some things are the same, some things are quite different. I’d just completed my first year of seminary and, although I’d been a lay leader for many years and was the Music Director in Salem, I was pretty new to ministry. Based on my previous career in social work, when I entered seminary I’d assumed that I would be a chaplain. It was here that I learned that my calling is to parish ministry. As I experienced many times throughout my ministerial formation, what I assumed or expected to be true was not true at all. It was here that I experienced a deep connection with a congregation doing the work of building community and creating justice.
When Bill invited me to return here as the Acting Assistant Minister to serve for two years, I was intrigued. I knew this congregation as one that had experienced many changes over the past few years. I came as an intern when the union was forming. I left as long-time Music Minister Mark Slegers was entering his last year. I knew of Rev. Kate Lore’s leaving and that Katie Radditz, the long-serving Adult Programs Director, would be retiring. Bill asked me to help shepherd the staff and congregation through the many changes that had happened and were happening. Not long after I arrived, long-time Director of Family Ministries, Cathy Cartwright-Chow, announced her retirement. LOTS of changes. And, once again what I assumed or expected was not exactly the case. This has been a time of learning and growing, for me and for you.
As I prepare to say goodbye to you once again, I have been reflecting on my time here and all that I have learned. It is with deep gratitude that I thank you for all that you have done to teach me and support my call to ministry. You have helped form me as a minister, and your willingness to co-ordain me with my home church in Salem is a testament to your support.
It is also a testament to your commitment to spiritual development and to Unitarian Universalism. When you ordain a minister, you affirm our call to ministry and send us out into the world to do the work of our denomination.
As I have spent these past two years with you, I have once again experienced this commitment. And, I have especially felt that commitment over this past year as I have been the minister for Family Ministries. Each Sunday, when not on the chancel, I have seen young ones, teachers and families come into the Buchan building, bringing all that is in their lives, seeking community and spiritual deepening. I am in awe of the youth and adults who show up Sunday after Sunday to be with our young ones. They make sure that young people of every age are cared for, seen for who they are, experience a sense of belonging, and are invited to explore the world with wonder and awe. It is miraculous and amazing.
And, I would not be doing my job as the minister for Family Ministries if I didn’t invite you to consider teaching in the Learning Community. If you are interested in being part of the miracle of awe and wonder, please do talk to Cassandra, Nicole or Nikki about teaching in the Learning Community next year! And, look for our new Program Assistant for Family Ministries who will start this week. We are pleased to welcome Aaron Peet, a life-long UU who grew up attending RE and whose parents were both RE teachers. He brings lots of experience and we are excited to welcome him!
Thank you for who you are.
Thank you for what you do.
I wish you many blessings on your journey.
Know that I take you with me on mine.
Namaste.
Topics: Commitment