Earth and The Church

                I was with my son surfing small waves at the beach near our home. The ocean blended with the horizon and the sky. No wind. Sunshine  licked the surface of water.                                                                                       I sat on my surfboard and watched William ride whitewater to the beach. I felt the warmth of the day upon my shoulders. I watched a pelican that looked like a rusted crowbar dive from the sky. As I watched the pelican emerge from the water with a mullet, I thought about my responsibility to help preserve ocean. I thought to myself, “As one person I can't do much. After all, the ocean is so large.  It spans continents, borders countless towns and cities from here to Africa, and beyond. It borders homes and churches and…”                             And then I thought, “Churches—yes, that's it. That how I might help the ocean, that's how I might help the earth. Earth Day and the Church. It could be a perfect match. After all, Earth Day is about God's creation. From a Christian theological perspective, Earth Day concerns the responsible stewardship of God's planet.”

Historically, the Church, as well as our larger culture, has understood stewardship as the proper management of financial resources. Stewardship has, within the confines of the Christian community, especially denoted the once-a-year pledge-drive. This understanding of stewardship has its place. As the New American Dictionary states,  "A Steward is one who manages another's property or financial affairs."  Yet stewardship, as the definition goes, also implies managing the real property of another.  From a Christian perspective, the earth is ultimately God's real property. As such, the Church is called, in general, to be a responsible steward of God’s property.

Since the rise of earth consciousness many critiques have been rightly leveled against the Christian tradition and its understanding of the earth as something to be forcefully conquered, rather than responsibly cultivated.  The traditional and incessant misreading of "God blessed them, and God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it (Holy Bible, Genesis 1:28),’ has errantly guided the Church in its handling of the earth’s resources. Furthermore, this errant reading continues to cripple the Church in its moral obligation to protect God's creation.

Admittedly, the phrase to, "subdue the earth" is used in Genesis 1.28 (though nowhere else), but the concept does not reflect an idea of destroying or mismanaging resources—quite the contrary.  In the context of this particular text, the Hebrew term kabash, rendered as "subdue," connotes the cultivation of land, as does its English counterpart.  It may be said that Genesis 1:28 embraces the responsibility of humanity to wisely keep the earth like a house—clean, properly managed, and with attentive care.

The idea of keeping the earth clean and orderly like a house is aptly reflected in the word ecology, which is derived from the Greek word oikos ("Doctrine of the House").  Accordingly, and as the creation narrative in Genesis suggests, we might understand the earth as our dwelling, our house—our home. We are but tenants on the soil—one part of the creation community. As such, we are not to be destroyers of creation, but responsible stewards.

As the ecological crisis continues to worsen, Christians are in a pivotal position to either make a faithful stand for the protection of the earth, by living earth-friendly lives or to watch from the sidelines as the ecological situation becomes even more burdensome for our children’s children. Though Christians have traditionally been on the wrong side of the environmental issue, we have the political might to become leaders in the  responsible stewardship of God's creation. 

As I watched my son catch another wave, the breeze picked up and the sun started going down. I caught a wave, walked to the nose of the board, back peddled, and rode to the beach. William was waiting for me. We were full of smiles. The sun and horizon merged completely and it seemed that all creation was melting into one loud song of joy. Everything blended together. And it seemed to me that God was saying, “Not alone, but together. Together you can make a difference. Together.”

Life Is Not a Dress Rehearsal

Walking with people through the stages of life is one of the greatest assets of my vocation. I have learned a lot from watching people live—and die. I have learned that there are some ways of living and dying that are better than other ways of living and dying. By “better” I mean more full of meaning and zest.

I once did a funeral for a woman who died immediately following retirement. She retired early because in 35 years she had never once taken vacation. She accrued sick leave and personal leave while her friends took trips to the Grand Canyon and Paris.

The woman was very proud to retire early. Her 401K was strong and she even had a pension. The retirement party was grand and all her co-workers were jealous. "You're set", they said. "You’ve got it made," said another, to which the woman replied "Now I will travel and go see the grandkids. I will finally reconcile with my son."

One week after retiring the woman and her husband made up their minds to build their dream home. Her life looked wide-open. Anything seemed possible. The woman felt free and finally ready to live the life that she had only dared to imagine. She planned to seize retirement by the horns.

Two months after retiring early, just as the woman and her husband bought tickets for a Baltic cruise, the woman came down with a cold, or what she thought was a cold. The cold didn't go away. She saw her internist who ran some tests. Six weeks later the woman died.

The moral of this story, which is based on actual events, is: don't put life on hold. Do not live as if you are guaranteed another twenty years, or even another two years. Plan for the future but don't live for the future—because you may not actually get to live the future you imagine.

No one is promised tomorrow. We all know this. But rarely do I meet people who live this way. If you need to reconcile with someone, do it today. If you want to see the Grand Canyon, and you have the money, make your plans. If you dream of building a home and you have the resources, call the architect.

As a man who has done more funerals than he can count, I can safely make you a promise: one day, maybe in five years or maybe in five weeks, you will die. And while death is not something to fear, for God’s arms will enfold you, dying with unfulfilled dreams is often the greatest regret of the dying.

Remember this and speak it to everyone you know: life is not a dress rehearsal.