Sunday, 5 June: Care for Creation - Genesis 3.8–15 and Mark 3:20-end
Nature writing has become increasing popular: books about footpaths and coastlines; birds, butterflies and trees. Writers such as Richard Maybe explore how we think about nature in relation to our lives - describing the earth as a commonwealth of all species.
Perhaps are tapping into or reflecting on our increased appreciation of the countryside; but there’s more to it than a whimsical nostalgia. Much of this writing is questioning our current values and lifestyles; economic growth and materialism. Some, like George Monbiot, use their words as journalists to make us think about climate, sustainability and environmental degradation.
Words about the natural world are doing more than expressing beauty or describing eco-systems. Maybe describes nature writers as ‘translators of the language of the natural world’; and perhaps Genesis is also in the business of translating the language of the natural world as God's creation and our place within it.
We’ll be familiar with the way Genesis tells multiple stories about goodness and diversity of the created order, irreducible to binaries or polar opposites. It speaks of water and land - the salty seas, fresh water lakes, peaty moorland and fertile deltas. It speaks of creatures that swim and fly and bestride the earth, each named and given a place.
Genesis also speaks of us: of human beings formed out of dust with the breath of life. Created with purpose - to till and keep this earthly garden. There is goodness here too; and freedom and creativity; curiosity and order. This breathe of life is not something we can hold on to; we have to exhale - live moment by moment; to live lightly; to live in relation to the gift of what surrounds us.
Image: Chris Gollon
But, as we are all too aware, there is a moment of disruption. The word fall or sin doesn’t occur in reading we’ve heard today. But we do hear of enmity - of fear, shame and secrecy; of using the natural world; of blame and trickery. All those things which mark a shift from trust to mistrust; codependence to fragmentation.
Human beings were created with freedom as well as purpose: they had options framed by permission and also prohibition: they were allowed to eat the fruit of the earth, but they were also given boundaries.
One commentator describes the place of the serpent as a ‘living metaphor’: presenting options to the human will; inviting action in response to new possibilities. The passing of blame between human and non-human creatures reveals the attractiveness of the enticement, and the guilt at not valuing the gift of freedom and instead ignoring the boundaries.
As one writer puts it: ‘they had wanted knowledge rather than trust. And now they have it. They now have more than they could have wanted to know. And there is no place to run’.
The rebellion in this story is in thinking that we can have purpose and freedom without limit; that living without limit risks our freedom; that embracing freedom without purpose takes away the safety of the boundaries.
There is enmity - a split, a breach, a shift in relating. There is a separation between creatures; a desire to hide in shame; the pain to live with consequences. It’s a harm caused by a shortness of breath - a shortness of breath that drives us to consume and control, to pollute and destroy.
We are invited to look at our own carbon footprint - to consider ways where we can buy less; and use our economic influence to shape a more sustainable future. This might be part of our calling to be ea ‘second wind’ to breath deeply and live lightly.
Stanley Spencer: Christ in the Wilderness
In the gospel, we encounter Jesus: we are drawn into the stories of how he walked the earth. The grain he plucked and ate on the journey; the lakes, deserts and mountains he knew; the birds, flowers and animals he notices, whose language he translates to teach us about God’s love.
Those who encounter him, don’t quite know what to make of him: the scribes are hostile, misunderstanding and provoke questions about power and motive; his family are sceptical and want to protect him, fearing his out of his mind; and some listen, respond and commit, the disciples - the women, the twelve, the curious; those with power wealth, status and those with little.
They listen. They catch this second wind; and draw a deeper breath. They are inspired. They do God’s will as members of Jesus’ kin, his body; led by the Spirit.
Jesus is stronger than any enmity or enticement: he knows the impulses of the human heart and calls out the gravest sin. That is to think we can have freedom without boundaries; that we can find our purpose without trust; that we can do as we please without causing hostility. This is to sin against the Spirit - to distort trust in God who gives breath and life and invites us to breathe with praise and hope, justice and imagination.
To care for creation is to live not only with breathtaking wonder at beauty but to enlarge our imaginations as we care for the fragile complexity. We are to find inspiration - breathing in from our tradition - in order to inspire others and reshape expectations.
Miriam will be working with the Eco-Church team to guide and encourage us as we seek to care for creation; as we seek to overcome enmity and separation between human beings and other animals.
That might mean reusing/recycling; looking at lowering our energy usage; composting and encouraging the wildlife in our churchyard; as we seek to drive or fly less; as we reduce our meat consumption; as we work with schools and other organisations - including our friends of other faiths to learn habits of consuming less “stuff” and conserving energy more.
We commit ourselves to this work as our world cries out for healing. As we cry out for mercy and forgiveness we find new ways of serving one another and our world with reverence, for the Lord is our hope.
This work of renewal and care is one of the marks of mission of the Anglican Communion: to strive to safeguard the integrity of creation and sustain and renew life of the earth.
© Julie Gittoes 2021
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