Green is the new purple

I apologize upfront for the bad joke about liturgical colors. (Sadly, I still think it’s funny.) But, it does make the point that some of the traditions of Lent blend naturally (and spiritually) with ideas for green ministry.
Many of us have known people who adopt a Lenten discipline, and some of us do this ourselves. (In brief, some Christian traditions enjoin adherents to fast, take a holiday from certain vices, or add structured reading or prayers to their daily routines during the 40 days of Lent.) Among other things, this practice is intended to exchange people’s focus on worldy things for a focus on God’s grace and the reasons we need it.
This year, I plan to participate in this tradition for the first time. However, rather than the age-old practice of giving up meat (that seems like cheating, since I’m a vegetarian), or a more contemporary discipline like parting with chocolate or TV, I plan to observe Lent by giving up disposable cups and bottles, and anything made of Styrofoam. I don’t use much of these, but I get lazy sometimes, and I think there’s a legitimate sacrifce in going from few to none.
This may at first seem a little odd, but it fits the bill for a good Lenten discipline. These are conveniences I can forgo to remind me to reflect on the coming Crucifixion and Resurrection, some of the most important principles of my religion, and arguably the most important points on the liturgical calendar. In this sense, my green discipline is no different from the traditional ones. But at the same time, this helps me to be a good steward of the natural environment and a good neighbor by producing less trash.
Some other ideas for green Lenten disciplines include:
Drink tap water instead of bottled
Adopt meat-free days each week, or go vegetarian until Easter
Abstain from driving one day per week
Avoid buying new goods (with the exception of food and other essentials)
Or serve the community directly by collecting trash and recyclables once a week at a local park or roadside

The possibilities are endless. If you’re interested in doing something green for Lent, but none of these ideas strike a chord, feel free to ask me about others.

Image source: Wikipedia

Religion and environment: What gives?

Many religions and many religious organizations and communities value some kind of community service, whether that be supporting soup-kitchens, alms-giving, building homes, supporting disadvantaged families, &c. The existence of organizations like the Evangelical Climate Initiative and Greater Washington Interfaith Power and Light demonstrates that believers in various faiths are beginning to recognize the connection between the natural environment and community service in a religious context. The growing list of books that focus on (or at least address) religious underpinnings of environmental action, such as Earth-Wise, God in the Wilderness, Care for Creation, This is My Father's World, A Greener Faith, and Last Child in the Woods, suggests that an increasing number of people are exploring these connections.
At the same time, the Center for Reformed Theology and Apologetics still declares that environmentalism is idolatry. Less than a year ago, evangelical leader Rich Cizik was censured for advocating that his religious community make battling climate change a priority. And, in my personal experience, I've encountered dozens of people who become furious at the suggestion that there is a religious mandate for improving environmental quality.
I call upon the reader to serve as a research assistant: Why does so much anger and opposition remain on this issue? Why do religious communities avoid adding environmental action to their portfolio of community service? Would your religious community be open to studying this issue? Why / why not?

Image Source: US National Gallery of Art

My name is Adam, and I am 13.7 billion years old

I’ve been spending my free time between semesters trolling scripture for a green ministry class I’m teaching this spring. Among others, I read from Genesis a couple of chapters I’ve read dozens of times and found a remarkable lesson. In the second account of creation (the one that appears in the second chapter), we find:

7 Then the LORD God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.

The earth’s physical attributes and every living thing we find here – past, present, or future – are inextricably connected. The surface of our planet is largely covered with water, which is full of salts, leached from rocks over the eons. Water vapor also permeates our atmosphere, which is itself mostly nitrogen, with some oxygen, carbon dioxide, ozone, argon, and other bits of this and that. Much of the solid portion of our soils (as well as the cocktail of dissolved solids in soil-water) is the result of rocks being physically and chemically picked apart.
From this nonliving environment bacteria, protists, plants, fungi, lichens, and animals build soil, fix nitrogen into chemicals useful to living things, and spin carbon dioxide and water into sugars and (with those useful nitrogen bits) proteins. We see that in a literal sense, living things, including humans are made of the nonliving “dust” of Genesis, along with the “breath of life”. We’re composed of the recycled leftovers of the begininng of the universe, squashed into stars and blown apart, squashed again into our Sun and Earth, worn ragged and perfect by relentless physcial and chemical action.
But we are not an end result. We are not the owners of all of this mineral wealth that is our physical selves. Instead, as we see in Gen 3:19, we will return all of this. Implicit in the “to dust you will return” is the macabre fact that our remains will wind through the long, slow cycles to become carbon dioxide, perhaps limestone, perhaps sea salt, and certainly part of other animals, plants, and living things so insignificant, we don’t bother to learn their names. Moreover, with every breath we take from the moment of our birth until we expire, we participate in this conversion of nonliving into living, and living into nonliving.
So what do we get out of this? Another somber reminder of mortality on the eve of a new year? No, instead we see that we’re blessed with much, but that we’re only caring for these gifts for a while. We see that we are temporary participants in creation, sharing everything with other living things, and that we are not alone in this role. Our gifts and responsibilities belong as much to our grandchildren’s grandchildren as they do to us and to our ancestors. We have a responsibility to take care of them.

Image source: Freer + Sackler Galleries

Seeds

I wrote some time ago about the beginnings of a green ministry at my church and promised that I’d address this again in the future. On Saturday, this green ministry quietly began, as I led a group of 17 volunteers on a seed collection in suburban Maryland. The ministry will officially kick-off in the spring, with a four-week Sunday school class on stewardship beginning Earth Day Sunday and with more events. We’ll focus on learning about and showing appreciation for our gifts and we’ll work to serve others.
For now, I’m finding kindred spirits in the congregation and building interest and buzz. I’m connecting the dots that working for a healthy environment is among Christians’ responsibilities: The Father gave His people this duty in Genesis. Beyond this, we should take care of a gift for which we are grateful, especially a gift in which the Maker has expressed such pride. Moving ahead to the teachings of Christ, we see a charge to care for the physical needs of others.
This weekend, we put this theology into practice. In two hours, we learned about watersheds and native trees, and served our community by collecting seeds that will soon become seedlings. These seedlings will grow to become trees, perhaps part of a new forest. They will make for cleaner streams and rivers, improve drinking-water quality, feed and shelter local wildlife, and support the men and women who earn a living harvesting crabs and oysters in the Chesapeake Bay. Not bad for two hours spent with friends on a beautiful fall day.

Less is more: More on the personal scale

I met with my pastor a couple of weeks ago to talk about starting a green ministry. He asked me if he should buy a hybrid car. I told him that in his situation, I wouldn’t.
This reminded me that I’ve heard a number of friends, and a family member or two talk about buying a hybrid for commuting to work. Like many people, they don’t really understand the hybrid technology or the situations in which it creates a benefit. In fact, I find a great many well-meaning people who have had the “green-living aha!” seem to think that all we have to do is swap-in a bunch of CFLs, trade-in the family car for a hybrid, and then we can all get back to doing whatever the hell it is that we do. As a group, we’re missing the point.
While to some extent it is easy being green, the real trick is in thinking green and shifting that thinking into the way we live. This is what I’ve (inartfully) tried to express in my last couple of posts. We need to make resource conservation as important as managing our finances or having a job. This needs to be part and parcel to our social contract with our families, friends, and neighbors.
The mindset that drives a resource-conservative lifestyle means understanding what is useful, what is valuable, and what we really want. It also means understanding how things work- both human made things and natural things- and seeing costs. It means being less self-centered.
Rather than looking merely at replacing a few products with more resource-conservative ones, we need to think about how we live and how we achieve what we want. Instead of (or in addition to) buying a hybrid car to reduce fuel consumption during a 45-minute daily commute, we should strive to live close to work. Instead of expecting the exact same products will be sold all over the country and all over the world, we should recognize that Omaha is geographically, culturally, and ecologically different from Orlando, Oakland, Ottawa, and Odessa, and so will be many of the things we consume there. Living in a way that naturally reduces the demand for resources and minimizes waste is much more effective than trying to create technological quick fixes.