Always Burning, Since the World's Been Turning
July 20, 2023 | Jim Angehr
So then, how should we think about creation care in ways that are both robust and distinctly Christian? (As a review of where we’ve been, you can check here for part one of this particular set of ramblings.)
The first two chapters of the Bible, Genesis 1-2, make the case that all things are created by a powerful and good God, and that human beings have been placed on the earth as “vice-regents” under the King to care well for creation. However, Genesis 1-2 is about much more than just this one thing––which illustrates the challenge of how to locate environmental conservation within a larger view of a faithful life of following Jesus.
The twin pitfalls are easy enough to identify but harder to avoid. In contrast to some (mostly secular) friends and neighbors who may think that the environment needs to be of A-1 importance for every human being, I read the scriptures as saying that while it certainly should be a concern, it shouldn’t be the concern. On the other hand, there are plenty of past and present examples of Christians who seem to go out of their way to disregard conservation and treat any form of the same as rank godlessness.
There must be a middle ground between these two extremes, and I’d observe further that the middle ground isn’t merely a lowest common denominator between the two poles, nor a weak-sauce appeasement strategy designed to mollify the culture warriors on either side of the aisle. Creation care, therefore, reminds some folks that there is, in fact, a creation that needs our care, and intimates to others that above this creation, there is a Creator who rightfully demands our attention and allegiance.
To all of which, I’d simply want to ask, can we have a conversation about this? Let me identify three qualities that I believe such a discussion would require.
It would require nuance. In my more cynical moments, I can wonder what, if anything, the church can contribute positively to our wider culture. Haven’t we burned too many bridges by now? But here’s something, and you can tell me if this isn't small potatoes: what if something that the church can offer to outsiders is a safe conversational space where deep complexities are honored while at the same strong opinions are shared and ears remain open? If the cross of Jesus doesn’t offer us sufficient resources for constructive dialogue, I’m not sure what we’re even doing here.
It would require courage. Whether within the church or outside, I worry that it’s too easy to allow the perfect to be the enemy of the good when it comes to sensitive issues. With environmental care, for instance, how much carbon footprint is too much, but how much is ok? How efficient does a recycling program need to be before I put my full weight behind it? How much of my present should I sacrifice for others’ future, and how confident do I need to be in any set of recent scientific findings before I decide?
Short answer: I don’t know! But I do know that some steps are better than no steps, and let’s not be afraid to misstep along the way.
It would require hope. For all of the very real differences between those sympathetic with the environmental movement and those opposed to it, one thread that might nevertheless bind them together is hopelessness. If you’ll allow me an oversimplification, it’s kind of like this: my uber-ultra-green friends will tend to say, “It’s probably too late, but we need to do everything possible to stem, or at least slow, climate change,” and my Ron Swanson-ish compadres will opine, “We shouldn’t do anything to change our habits in relation to the environment, because it’s probably too late.” The bummer-filled commonality between those positions is that no one really thinks that the future of this earth is up and to the right.
But that’s precisely where the Bible comes in. Does the promise that when Jesus returns and remakes the cosmos into a new heavens and earth only carry ramifications for an ultimately renewed environment? Of course not. But it doesn’t imply less. If as opposed to a narrative that this spinning rock will only become warmer until it burns up, we instead by faith look forward to the renewal of all things, how then shall we live?