8/25/19: A Sabbath for the Earth

There is a realm of time where the goal is not to have but to be, not to own but to give, not to control but to share, not to subdue but to be in accord. Life goes wrong when the control of space, the acquisition of things of space, becomes our sole concern.

Rabbi Abraham Heschel, The Sabbath

I’ve written before about how Christian theology has often failed the Earth; too often, we read the words of Genesis – that we have dominion over the Earth, that we ought to subdue it – or read Psalm 8, and we take them at face value and call it a day. The result is a misguided, sinful notion that we can do whatever it is we’d like with the land, air, and water on which all life depends.

But, the Bible is more complicated than that. A Christian relationship with the Earth is a far cry from this dominating, hateful approach to the ways Christian cultures have historically regarded the Earth (an approach which is anything but Christlike).

I preached this sermon at the First Congregational Church of Glen Ellyn, a suburban UCC congregation where I currently work as the senior high youth director. In it, I borrow the concept of the Sabbath – born out of Jewish practice and expounded upon through millennia by Jewish theologians, but still present in Christian tradition – to suggest a different way we might come to relate to the other life on our planet.

I use a text from the prophet Isaiah, which you can read here, to highlight the ways in which Jesus was firmly rooted in his own Jewish faith – and then to explore the implications of this teaching for our relationship to our planet and all life on it.

You can watch the sermon in the video below, or read it in the transcript on the following page.

9/9/19: I Believe in Miracles

Miraculous Draught of Fishes by Raphael, 1515

Listen to my sermon here, or read the transcript below.

I have a funny relationship to reports on the climate crisis. On one hand, I so desperately want the crisis to be covered by media sources – and I want it covered honestly, with transparency and frankness. I want to read the IPCC reports as they come out. I want to know the full extent of the crisis we’re in, because I want to be a knowing witness to what is unfolding, and perhaps even an agent in its change.

And yet, when reports on the climate crisis do come out, it is often so upsetting that my first instinct is to look away. I get a funny feeling in my stomach, and my hands sweat, and I can only sigh deeply at headlines that announce what kind of world we’re heading towards. Usually, I bookmark the story, and I spend a few days dreading it before I finally find the courage to read what bad news that report contains.

It’s been this way for a while, but I had no words for what I was experiencing. Eco-grief is a term I’ve recently become acquainted with, and learning it was relief – like a drink of water in a dry land. Eco-grief refers to a broad range of emotions experienced in response to the loss of ecosystems and species, and to environmental destruction. Like other forms of grief, it includes emotions like sadness, despair, frustration, anger, confusion, loss, and hopelessness – among others.

It was a relief to just have these emotions named, and to realize that I was not alone in my feelings of grief. Naming it and seeing that I was not alone became my foundation for acting for a different kind of future.

These are the thoughts I carried with me as I wrote this sermon; my convictions about the need for action for the Earth, my sense of grief in the climate crisis, and my knowledge that many others carry this grief, but still feel alone. And I believe that this is a place where people are sorely in need of hearing the Gospel.

I preached this sermon at my seminary, the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago, as part of our observance of the Season of Creation, a liturgical movement which seeks to pray for and act to protect creation. You can access the audio to the sermon here, or read it below. I’d love to hear your thoughts about eco-grief or the sermon in the comments, and if the sermon touches you in anyway, I’d be delighted it you shared it.

Continue reading “9/9/19: I Believe in Miracles”