Earth Day 2022: Is it Still Meaningful?

The Boulder Family, Mission Trails, San Diego, CA.
Photo by Laurie Welch

When I looked at the calendar this week and saw that Earth Day was coming I rolled my eyes. “The environment” has become so political in the United States trying to save the planet feels more like an exercise in futility than in creating any kind of actionable measures. I am certain mine weren’t the only rolling eyes this year.

Still, I love Nature. I do what I can in my little corner of California with my recycling of plastics and aluminum cans and the lessening of their use in general. I buy in bulk when available, pick up other people’s trash on hiking trails and try to be conscious of the overuse of packaging calling it out in emails to offending companies. But like most people I am not consistent and I over consume and waste when it is not convenient. I don’t want to be a pessimist when it comes to the environment throwing up my hands with a tsk tsk “no one else is doing anything,” but it is painful to listen to politicians, especially the religious ones who should know better, ignore the sacredness of the land in favor of its destruction for “human progress.”

In the Hebrew Bible God is active in Creation. It is a conscious, well-thought out plan that creates this world which is both “good” and “very good.” When the first human is made God gives him the responsibility (Genesis 1:28) to rule over the beauty He has made. Many translations of this passage use the word “subdue” to indicate that Adam and successive generations can rule in whatever manner they want over the land. But the Hebrew word for subdue, kavash, is mistranslated in this context meaning to subdue an enemy as in a military situation. In the JPS (Jewish Publication Society) translation of the Hebrew Bible it uses the words “master it” (the earth) and “rule the fish of the sea…” I see the words masters and rulers as benign; the person doing the mastering or ruling is what makes their administration good or bad, life sustaining or destructive.

In fact, the world could never exist, would likely die, if we subdued Nature or had dominion over it in the modern way we use those words. We use them like we are superior over Nature, but we learn every time we kill off a species of animal that another species relies on it and now it is endangered or when we ruin air quality with pollution or a waterway with poisonous runoff endangering people that we can’t subdue the land, but must understand how it works and honor the process. Mastery implies this: we master something to understand how to work with it.

Pollution, defilement, destruction of habitats in all its forms would make life on Earth impossible. So, subduing it, subjugating it, enslaving it makes no sense and is definitely not Biblical. And it is not just a belief in the God of the Bible that tells of this remarkable Creation. Biology, science, the Big Bang acknowledge a well-planned, well-thought out planet. In fact, it is probably the one thing where the religious, the scientifically-minded and atheists can agree!

Which brings me back to my original thoughts on this Earth Day. If I don’t want to eye roll any longer and if I think “doing something” is still important, what do I do?

I have an idea. It came up in an article I read that referenced the way Nature returned to cities during the first year of the pandemic when most everyone across the planet was in lockdown. It’s a radical step, a very great lifestyle change but if sustainable it might be worth working toward. It would take the whole of human kind to make it successful and I am still thinking through participation: A Sabbath day for Creation. Or, a once a week day off from technology, electricity, fossil fuels and the like to give the planet a rest from human meddling.

I don’t know if I am optimistic enough to trust in a process that asks me to bow out of the busyness of life once a week for a full day. But I believe the environmental crisis is real and I have to do something more than recycle. A weekly sabbath/rest might be it. I am going to take it seriously and find out.

And God saw all that He had made, and found it very good.

Moses: dialogue with God, Madeleine L’Engle-April, National Poetry Month

At the end of December I wrote a blog post stating my reading aims for this year; one being to concentrate on specific authors and their work. As I started organizing these projects I found many of the authors, along with their fiction and nonfiction, also wrote poetry.

Since April is National Poetry Month, I will share some of what I find. I was surprised that many of the authors I am reading this year (including CS Lewis, LM Montgomery) wrote poems. I am not sure why?…

This poem by L’Engle comes from her collection, Cry Like a Bell, published in 1987. It is a collection of Biblical personalities talking to us illustrating, explaining, complaining, in gratitude, in joy and wonder their perspectives of life with God.

Moses was such an unlikely prophet, which she captures so well!
_________________

Come.

When?

Now. This way. I will guide you.

Wait! Not so fast.

Hurry. You. I said you.

Who am I?

Certainly I will be with thee.

Is nothing, then, what it is? I had rather the rod had
stayed a rod and not become a serpent.

Come. Quickly. While the blast of my breath opens the sea.

Stop. I’m thirsty.

Drink water from this rock.

But the rock moves on before us.

Go with it and drink.

I’m tired. Can’t you stop for a while?

You have already tarried too long.

But if I am to follow you I must know your name.

I will be that I will be.

You have set the mountain on fire.

Come. Climb.

I will be lost in the terror of your cloud.

You are stiff-necked and of a stiff-necked people.

YOUR people, Lord.

Indubitably.

Your wrath waxes hot. I burn.

Thus to become great.

Show me, then, thy glory.

No man may see my face and live. But I will cover you with my hand while I pass by.

My people will turn away and cry because the skin of my face shines.

Did you not expect this?

I cannot enter the tent of the congregation while your cloud covers it and your
glory fills the tabernacle. Look. It moves before us again. Can you not stay still?

Come. Follow.

But this river is death. The waters are dark and deep.

Swim.

Now will I see your face? Where are you taking me now?

Up the mountain with me before I die.

But death

bursts into light.

The death is

what it will be.

These men: they want to keep us here in three tabernacles. But the cloud
moves. The water springs from a rock that journeys on.

You are contained in me.

But how can we contain you in ark or tabernacle or—

You cannot.

Where, then?

In your heart. Come.

Still?

I will be with thee.

Who am I?

You are that I will be. Come.