An eco-spirituality through the seasons
By Al Fritsch, SJ
CONTENTS
* Table of Contents
* Introduction
* January
* February
* March
* April
* May
* June
* July
* August
* September
* October
* November
* December
* Appendix
ECO-SPIRITUALITY IN JANUARY
January comes in the depth of winter when activities slow down
to the bare minimum: less going outdoors, doing quicker chores,
securing bare essentials of food, dry clothes, and a warm bed. As
we end the holiday rush, this month becomes the perfect time to
slow down and give extra thought to healing our wounded Earth.
January is a month when the naked trees show their true form, a
laying bare of what in summer is nature's green covering. Now we
hike unhindered across the countryside and scan the wider vistas;
we concentrate on the summer-hidden wounds of the bare hills; we
strive to get to the roots of things, for early winter begins the
growing season. Near the feast of Epiphany or the twelfth day of
Christmas one may follow the old Anglo-Saxon tradition and
"wassail" the apple trees by drinking to the health of the oldest
ones. We celebrate nature's first awakening in dead of winter.
January is the time to be practical, down-to-earth and yet
willing to look at the stars, a searching mode, a standing at the
doorway of the grandeur of God's creation, and spending time in
praise of the Holy One. Time never stands still and winter, while
certainly slow moving, never allows us to completely forget our own
fleeting nature. As Herman Melville says in Moby Dick, "I am a man
running out of time." We point to the crisis-ridden Earth around
us with its tsumani one month, hurricane another, massive
earthquake on the third, and whacked with seemingly endless warring
factionalism. We ought not to retreat within ourselves and ignore
these signposts; nor should we let these happenings overcome us in
a modern angst that saps energy and drains creative juices. Simply
put, January is the acceptable time to sense mystery, survey the
cosmic phenomena, redouble our openness to every new calling, and
proclaim the harmony all about us; it is the moment of salvation,
the beginning of a new year of life.
A. EXPERIENCES OF THE SACRED
For many of us committed to an Ignatian spirituality, which is
based on The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (of Loyola), we
begin our particular exercise by visualizing the scene of the
mystery on which we are meditating. Ignatius encourages us to
allow our imagination to help us relive the reality of the sacred
mystery which is the subject of the meditation. God's unfolding
creation is a mystery to us, a subject of our prayerful attention
for the sake of prayer and because we have certain responsibilities
in relation to it. Where else should one start a reflection on
healing than in seeing the wholeness and beauty of this creation?
Due to our own limitations we start here and now locally. We use
the windows to our soul -- sight, sound, taste, aroma, and feeling.
We come to sense the harmony of our head, heart and hands; the
interior harmony that is in tune with the harmony of the great
outdoors and the Mystery far beyond in time. God must be within,
without, and far beyond.
------------------------
Insights while scrubbing the floor. Late last month I decided
it was time to wash the kitchen floor. While down on my knees and
finding it somewhat difficult, I asked "Why am I doing this? Why
didn't I take the offer of the church's pastoral director to have
a generous neighbor come and clean the house?" However, my
attitude was, if I dirtied it, I ought to be responsible for
cleaning it up. This applies while I am still somewhat able-
bodied, but when the day that I am unable comes, as it surely will,
I will have to accept assistance; as of now it is my duty to wash
the floor. While down there at the level of the Earth itself I
realized that this is where God wants me to be. For here I
discover who God is in a special way. Granted one of the most
profound insights at that moment was that the floor needs washing
more often; however, another thought emerged with time, namely,
that here at the floor level we initiate the process of healing the
Earth. The process does not begin with muddy boot trampers who
move about insensitive to the charwoman's work. Floor scrubbers
experience God's healing hand in what they do, for to clean what is
dirty is to participate in a healing process. And that is my
immediate calling.
----------------------
1. Sacred Sights
Look around you, look at the fields,
already they are white, ready for the harvest.
(John 4:35)
On the crystal cold winter night we look out and see beyond
the horizon of our limited world. The blinding light that flashes
across the heavens announces the beginning of the creative act.
The holy night, when all was still, found the Saving One coming to
his own, and that was a sacred sight seen only by a privileged few
shepherds. We move back to our own birth though unremembered. Our
eyes opening after the darkness of our maternal womb behold the
incandescent light that announces our coming into our own. All
these sacred sights to which we have some affinity -- the beginning
of the universe, the coming of our Savior, our own humble
beginnings, enter into our own journey of faith.
God gives an order, divine word flashes to earth:
to spread snow like a blanket, to strew hoarfrost like ashes,
to drop ice like breadcrumbs, and when the cold is
unbearable,
God sends word to bring the thaw
and warm wind to melt the snow.
(Psalm 147:15-18)
A snow-covered landscape is the Creator's masterpiece, each
snowflake a different design (at least that is a theory that can't
be fully verified in this world), each curved snow drift and bank
a work of art. The sight is a jewel to be gazed at from a
distance, without daring to step out and disturb the almost perfect
landscape. Well, not quite undisturbed, for cottontail's tracks
are there, and other wildlife will surely follow soon. This fresh
blanket of snow is like the cloth placed over the coffin as it is
brought to the church, preparing the baptized person for the
journey to eternal life.
Roadcuts, stripped hillsides and clearcut forestlands are for
a brief moment covered over. Abused land is temporarily unseen.
This pall-covered suffering land recalls for us the divine promise
to cleanse us of our faults, to make us pure as new-fallen snow,
and to give us new life. Snowfall in January signifies forgiveness
and renewal. We glory in this short-lived scene, this promise
of a New Heaven and New Earth, this epiphany of God among us. Now
the entire year comes in an instant and beckons us to probe it in
greater depths.
The Here
We do not journey through life with heads turned backwards,
lest we stumble. We do not look constantly out to the distant
horizons lest we again lose our footing. Joggers are aware of the
road immediately ahead, the here where we are at a given moment.
Finding God in all things is what we seek to do, and yet where we
watch our steps. We look into places others often ignore, but the
great surprise is that God is with us here and now -- and thus we
refrain from an over concern about future or past gazes. If God is
everywhere, surely the Holy One is in the hidden crannies of this
Earth and our personal inner worlds as well, the HERE. God is with
us in the menial tasks of cleaning house, preparing meals,
gardening, repairing, sleeping, eating, and jogging. Emmanuel
comes.
2. Sacred Sounds
The footsteps of those who bring good news is a welcome
sound. (Rom. 10:15)
In the beginning was the Word. Sound has no precedence other
than that it is first heard even before the created light has
flashed. God speaks and God hears what is spoken, and that is an
eternal Word. God speaks with the sound of the "Big Bang" that
still resonates throughout the universe and can still be detected
by certain sophisticated instrumentation. And it is the ringing in
our ears when we are in tune with the cosmos. We seek to break our
sacred silence through testimony in a world overwhelmed by
discordant noises. In my novitiate days we had periods of time
from evening to the following morning prayer we were silent -- the
Sacred Silence. Even outside that atmosphere we can affirm that
sacred silence has a place in our noisy lives; these are times
when we recollect, we plan, we reflect, we communicate with God.
We only break the silence when impelled to say something, and so
January is not a time of total silence but it has its sacred
moments.
Then I heard all the living things in creation --
everything that lives in the air, and on the ground,
and under the ground, and in the sea, crying,
"To the One who is sitting on the throne
and to the lamb, be all praise, honor, glory and power,
forever and ever." (Revelations 5:13)
The squeals of delight are part of the chorus of living
beings. The coyote's howl, the ruffed grouse's thumping and the
owl's hoot blend with the excitement voiced by youth at winter
play. All of these creatures praise the Creator through winter
sounds unmuffled by summer foliage. The joy expressed in riding a
sled is part of the chorus of creation: birds and animals seems to
be awakening the plants and trees so that the sap will soon start
to rise. All creation seems to break its moments of sacred silence
because it is stirring and has something to say.
These new-found winter sounds show immense contrast. At times
they are unhindered and carry for miles. Then it snows; winter
suddenly returns to the same profound silence, for falling fluffy
snow creates a sound-proof time span. Thus when the snow falls and
before outdoor winter sports begin, we can stop and listen, and
listen, and listen. God speaks in gentle breezes and even in
falling snow. A spiritually-tuned ear can distinguish among
nature's winter harmonic movements. Now is the acceptable time;
now our hearing is sharpened.
The Now
The present moment, the instant, the now is a dividing line
between the receding past and the advancing future -- or the
advancing past and the receding future, whatever way you wish to
think about it. Some ponder this hairline span, this less than a
nanosecond (one billionth of a second when light travels about one
foot), this instant. I prefer to think of the "now" as the
convergence of past and future into the present; this is not a
physical span of time but the division of past experience and
future anticipation as continued in our consciousness. The present
is more psychological than physical and we each can affirm that it
has profound reality.
The present we seek to find
with still nimble hand and subtle mind,
then surely, when we cannot possibly sing,
we at least can bring
the traces of our past to bear
at the point where futures lair. 2006, AF
In listening at this present moment we hear a faint spoken
word, traveling through space at a far slower pace then does light.
From acoustics we know that sound needs a medium in which to
travel; we need receptacles to receive sound and a device to
transmit the sound into something intelligible. God speaks to us
in mysterious ways -- suddenly or over a span of time; God's voice
may build on our past experiences or may indicate our choices for
the future. God's call may be through another or directly to us.
In the wonder of creation we need to be prepared for we do not know
how God speaks, and yet we need to be open and listening. It may
come right now; it may tarry. I know from experience that it can
be person-to-person, the voice of a creating, redeeming, and loving
God to me. We seek to flee our past with its unpleasant
experiences; we avoid the future with its unexpected twists and
turns, more feared as shadows than as reality. The distant shadows
of past and future send us to the light of the present moment. God
is HERE and God is NOW.
3. Sacred Tastes
Taste and see the goodness of the Lord.
God's favor is a flavor, and we are the taster. God enjoys
flavorful things, because God is the origin of all things. We
remember that human cooking arts are what add to the creativity of
these flavors, and that we are moved to pass through spoken word
and written recipe in our search for what will please our taste
buds and the palates of others. In a season before the growing
begins we often seek to prepare something especially tasty such as
a soup of various flavors. We are encouraged to taste and see the
goodness of the Lord. To enter into God's goodness involves a
choice of good tastes -- and there are a multitude to choose from.
Each of us has our favorites; mine include the exquisite taste of
a ripe wild plum in summer, the taste of poke shoots in spring, and
the taste of persimmons ripened by the deep freeze of late autumn.
These recall happy times and events; they are like a precious
moment of heaven on Earth.
Let me fetch a little bread
and you shall refresh yourself before going further.
(Genesis 17:5a)
An Appalachian home is a place where a visitor can feel and
taste the refreshment of our region. Just as wanderers in the hot
Middle Eastern desert were always in need of refreshment so, from
the earliest days of our region's settlement, the traveler would be
expected to share the simple fare of most mountain households.
Even to this day, our folks are concerned about those lost or
unsure of their way, about those who cannot find lodging or a place
to eat. We are willing to give something of our limited substance
to others in need, and never ask payment for it. If a person's car
breaks down, in most cases it will only be a short time before
someone stops to help. And good hospitality is the sign of good
taste -- the opposite of stereotypical notions about our region's
attitudes towards strangers and foreigners.
When we visited my great aunt and uncle's place in Fleming
County as youngsters, the refreshments and goodies would taste so
good. Why did Aunt Mary's cookies and baked goods taste so much
better than our own common fare? Perhaps much had to do with the
special people, the kind hearts, the serving hands and the sunshine
smile that blessed these food items. They were all part of a
hospitable environment, which permeated the food itself. We pray
that the willingness to share food with others will never be lost
from our Appalachian tradition -- and that our food will always
taste delightful to those who are hungry, at least for something
different.
The We
Each of us seeks to commune with others. Some find it
energizing to talk with plants; some talk to their pets; others
like hermits Jerome or Fiacre or Blaise connect with wildlife. Our
tastes are associated with those who are near to us in spirit.
More socially oriented folks taste the abundant fruits of our work
in the community of others with whom we eat together. We seek
those who enjoy what we enjoy, for we are social beings destined
for togetherness. We often wonder whether those who cannot find it
in themselves to assemble with those of other races or colors will
not find it hard to assemble in heaven. Are their tastes so
utterly different -- or will it take a purgatory to prepare them
for togetherness? We have to share food to give us the nourishment
to share experiences, hopes, and dreams.
My God is our God and the "me" gives way to a "we," who are
invited into community. God comes among us as one of us, and is a
God who never leaves us alone but stays close to us as our
community expands ever broader in space and numbers. We come to
know more about ourselves, what constitutes a loving community, and
how the "we" includes the plants and animals that make up the
larger planetary community. Those communal bonds are part of the
marvels of creation for they show our mutual assistance to each
other and how much we depend for wellbeing on the others. Finding
God can be a matter of tastes; as we broaden what we like to
assimilate, we find that God is present in so many others who
otherwise would seem foreign, remote and tasteless in their ways.
The People of God, a term that has become prominent since
Vatican II, is really the Holy We. It involves those born again in
water, blood and desire -- the ones who will find salvation in ways
that God's mercy so generously allows. The term is somewhat
ambiguous and is never defined too closely for fear of being
judgmental about those we don't think belong. Maybe we need to
expand to the "Creatures of God," and include a wider community on
this Earth, a community of living beings who are somewhat
threatened by the misdeeds of our human greed. These too deserve
our attention, our taste for others, our communion.
4. Sacred Aroma
The sons of Aaron must burn this part on the altar,
in addition to the holocaust
on the wood of the fire.
It will be a burnt offering
and its fragrance will appease Yahweh.
(Leviticus 3:5)
The cabin smoke of January indicates occupancy, wellbeing,
good will, and a sense of domestic tranquility. However, smoke
elicits an ambivalence, a host of human reactions, some good and
some not so. Our ancestors could think of the sacrifice on the
altar with its wood-fueled oblation as an appeasement or as a
thanksgiving offering. Most certainly, if certain aromas such as
the smell of roasting meat are widely liked by hungry people, the
Almighty must have first liked them -- since we are made in God's
image. The scent of wood smoke triggers either serious or festive
modes depending on the circumstances of the offering.
Our basic attraction to fire stretches back into our
prehistory; we are drawn to fire's sight, sound, odor and feel as
warmth in an instinctive way. A whiff of smoke recalls the
creature comforts of a heated place and ample food, or it may set
off fire alarms in the brain. In the not too distant past a
smoking factory chimney was a good sign of employment; only in more
recent periods of environmental consciousness has the same scene
become a sign of a polluted neighborhood.
Sacred Celebrations
Celebrations are occasions when we come together to share with
others in the work of the people. The traditional aroma is one of
flowers at the altar and incense during the ceremony itself.
Flowers add to the beauty of the place; incense gives the sense of
sacredness to place and in former times overcame the congregational
members' unpleasant scents. Today, people are more chemically
sensitive and some do not like the smell of burning incense; thus
the amount, timing of use, and location of the sensitive person in
the assembly are all important considerations.
God promised the chosen people a special land, a holy land for
them and their descendants. Christians regard the expansion of
sacred land to include all the planet and beyond to be a phenomenon
worthy of celebration. Just as all space is now in a general way
Holy Land, all time is the Divine Now (for God, a thousand years
are but a moment), so gatherings either on a grand scale or in
small groups scattered over space can be mystically bonded. But
having said these things, we still need a special place, a proper
time and an immediate gathering for solemn worship. We, not the
Holy One, need a periodic liturgical gathering, a bonded group who
share and celebrate the work of the people. But can not the
celebration be still broader? Can it not include a celebration of
all creation of those other creatures for whom we work and with
whom we share life. While the sacred has its places, times and
assemblies, so too the broader perspective is important for any
eco-spirituality.
5. Sacred Touch
How beautiful on the mountains,
are the feet of one who brings good news,
who heralds peace, brings happiness,
proclaims salvation,
and tells Zion,
"Your God is King! (Isaiah 52:7)
Our footprints are part of our bonding with the mountains.
But footprints need to be gingerly made, not leaving a lasting
imprint, but rather faint and fading with time. We seem to know
that our bare feet are more sensitive to the soil than shod feet;
as bare-footed we experience the land's roughness or softness, its
warmth or coldness. I remember well the sun-warmed cow paths
weaving through the ragweed patches in the sunlit meadow in late
summer; I remember the sharp cold November grass when I stretched
the barefoot season to an extreme, for I have always despised
shoes. Making footprints creates an unforgettable sensation, a
closeness to Earth.
Sacred Passing
Footprints add beauty to the mountains, for they speak of the
love of the one who brings Good News. Their imprint is worth
celebrating. It is better that the mountains feel the footprints
of people present than that they be depopulated and lack them.
Nature is at its best when glorified, touched by human presence and
bearing the mark of our feet for, without our gentle footprints,
nature is not yet fulfilled. In turn, our passing should involve
faint and gentle footprints, not the heavy-footed tracks of
bulldozers and massive earth-moving equipment. May we respect the
ground on which we tread and see ourselves as merely passing!
Sacred Space
Sacred space is an ideal place to pray. It is where the mind,
heart and senses all find an inner harmony, a congruity, a pleasing
ordering of not only sound or sight, but of all the senses in one
act of prayer. Sacred space signifies a special place where all
five senses are stimulated so that our minds and hearts are more
easily turned to the Most High. All on a journey of faith realize
that the surrounding landscape becomes spiritually uplifted by our
observing, listening, smelling, tasting and touching, in a sense,
experiencing in our depths of being the presence of the Almighty.
This space becomes a little bit of heaven. Sacred space is our
declared sanctuary, whether a reserved space or an area of our own
heart, where others are not to enter; it is our rest stop for
refreshment and clearer focus. Although all land is Holy Land, we
designate special places because these manifest a sacredness we
need in order to discover God's presence at choice moments.
Sacred spaces may be unexploited pristine areas -- though
these are becoming more rare; they may be grandiose scenic views
or quiet nooks; they may be just places that we like for no
apparent reason. We gravitate to certain places because we find a
private moment with God. Some places seem completely inappropriate
due to human noise and congestion or due to environmental
pollution. The rest stops of life, far from negating our journey
of faith, actually punctuate it and show how soon we get out of
breath, and how much we need divine assistance. The sacred space
may be revisited on a regular basis or it may be an annual event or
a special place visited once in a lifetime. It may be space
created through managing an existing site or through introducing
other native flora and fauna that help stimulate the various senses.
--------------------------------------
Mark Spencer and I were able to climb to a prominent peak in
the Sangre de Cristo Mountains near Crestone, Colorado. We started
the evening before, camped overnight for an early final ascent and
then reached the top in late morning on a sunny June day. We
peered over the peaked ridge and saw the northern side, which was
as though in the middle of winter, covered with snow and mist.
Suddenly I was enlightened as to why several previous attempts at
June climbing resulted in being bogged down in snow -- we attempted
north slope approaches; much depends on where the sunlight hits
the range and peaks. Obviously! Just being there at above 14,000
feet was a unique experience I may never again achieve but the
scene was a sight to behold and to remember. The divine was so
near.
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B. REFLECTIONS: THE GLORY OF CREATION
We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty,
maker of heaven and earth, of all that is, seen and unseen.
The Nicene Creed
I'll never forget the western part of South Dakota in 1955
when I saw the beginnings of the Far West for the first time. We
had crossed the Missouri River at Chamberlain, and moved towards
the color-subdued Badlands just ahead in the sunset. It was a new
world, the unseen now seen, a sampling of God's glory stretching
beyond.
"We believe" starts us professing as a community of believers
and is more than simply "I" believe. God's creation is something
that I can mull over on my own, but we can marvel together and this
experience adds to the praise and glory through total community
affirmation. All that is seen and unseen includes the entirety of
creation, the portion we can see through naked eye and telescope,
and the part never yet seen, or mysteries that the eye can never
see. The "Almighty" gives to us the awesome power of the Creator.
That awesome power struck me deeply when I saw a television show on
the first moments of creation.
1. To See the Mystery
Ah what is man that you should spare a thought of him ...
Yet you have made him little less than a god, you have crowned him
with glory and splendor. (Psalm 8:4a, 5)
I have always admired the colorful butterfly and the manner in
which it can enliven my day. The butterfly museum at Hunawihr near
my ancestral home in Alsace, flashing with colorful and graceful
flying creatures, was an absolute delight to visit. That
admiration of sight extends to observing other butterfly feats. A
monarch butterfly travels from Kentucky all the way to Mexico for
its winter sojourn, a massive undertaking of over a thousand miles
by such a small and delicate creature. How else but to marvel!
Creation is wrapped in mystery, the creation all about and the
creation within us. Young children experience that first dawning
of mystery and want to examine the world around them with awe and
wonder; so do adults except in a more self-conscious manner. We
may not attempt to test a new thing by putting it into our mouths,
but we are fascinated by new places, enticing scenes of sunrises
and sunsets, and beautiful artifacts. We venture into scientific
descriptions of the Big Bang, the architecture of termite hills,
and the bonding of atoms. We may even consider intellectually the
philosophical concept of creation from nothing, or how the mind
works, or how and why we grieve over the passing of a loved one.
With time we may dabble into the great Mystery, the divine harmony
in the universe. We begin to appreciate creativity expressed
through craftspersons, artists, researchers, and ordinary people.
Amid all these ventures we discover our lack of total satisfaction,
for in older years we admit to our inability to plumb the depths of
Mystery itself.
Three fountains of mystery
"In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth."
(Genesis 1:1)
Awesome respect covers us like a blanket, a pervading
atmosphere in which our faith is nurtured. This awe overshadows
our first actions and is present in a bewildering array of
undifferentiated mysteries which begin to unfold before us, causing
us to blink and rub our eyes. In youth, we sense the threefold
nature of mysteries: the created world around us impregnated with
mystery; our own interiority, which is the world within us that
beckons us to a lifetime of searching; and finally the deepest
Mystery, the Holy One, our ultimate Source and our final End, our
Alpha and Omega. These sources are not understood as separate at
first, but the unfolding is a type of divine revelation to us, an
unfolding of our own history. Let's leave that to later.
a) Mystery all about -- We go to a park, wildlife reserve,
mountain, seashore; we gaze into the heavens. We observe
captivating creatures; we breathe fresh air and absorb full
spectrum sunlight. We move about by foot or bike or car. We
notice particular trees, birds, mountain forests, rolling meadows,
gurgling streams, the roaring seas and waterfalls, and on and on.
Some of us like to take photos of these sights. A billion poems
and a trillion memories punctuate these mysteries of creation. Are
all the trillions of snowflakes unique in design? Some think so,
but who would ever know this side of heaven from the few that have
been captured and photographed. God admires all that is made and
finds it good (Genesis 1:3). And when we can no longer travel to
see these wonderful sights, at least we can enjoy vicarious
participation in photographs, videotapes, scenic books and vivid
memories. And when memories fade, we begin to see visions of
deeper mysteries up ahead and beyond.
Childlike wonder fills the natural adventurer. We see and
don't see; we strive to know more and yet find limits in our
attention and time. God's grandeur is present but, as purists, we
dare not stare for fear of exploitation. Is it more natural to
reach out and grab hold of creation as a small child or to refrain?
Some of us would argue that it is more natural to take hold of and
improve natural things, for we are part of the total natural
picture. Others, who regard themselves as true blue naturalists,
consider that nature should be left alone and should remain beyond
human reach, for they remembering a poor track record at certain
times and places. Wilderness must be set aside and removed from
human reach.
In the early 1970s the late Rene Dubos spoke to meeting of the
American Association for the Advancement of Science meeting on this
subject of restraint and involvement; essentially he proposed that
human action and improvement are part of the natural process. He
argued that we, as part of nature, can transform it for the better.
I liked that man; he was one of our earliest and most respected
advisors at the Center for Science in the Public Interest and wrote
a number of books including The God Within. He gave me strong
support in my early writings and was one of the organizers of the
Stockholm United Nations Conference on the Environment in 1972,
where I conversed with him for the last time.
b) Mystery within
The creation that surrounds us reflects the divine glory and
encourages us to delve deeper into discovering the wonders of
creation within ourselves -- another untapped world. We reflect
upon ourselves, our relations to others, our neighbors who include
human beings scattered around the planet along with diverse plant
and animal species. As we come to know other people, we sense that
creation is very complex, for every person is unique in so many
interesting ways. Coming to know others in the mystery, we
gradually and sometimes surprisingly arrive at greater knowledge of
ourselves. We come to self-appropriation and witness to some
degree our own maturation. The others assist us on our spiritual
journey of faith. We are able to gaze within and discover the
infinite world of self. Certainly there's as much mystery here as
out there in the world about us; this discovery of self opens to
potential growth and even godliness. But we hesitate because we
can also become our own idol, a narcissistic creation of our own
selfishness. This image frightens us.
In more proper individual growth we can probe the mystery of
self and say with the truly humble Mary --
Yes from this day forward all generations will call me blessed,
for the Almighty has done great things for me. (Luke 2:48-9)
The blessedness has a divine source, not our own, but the things
done are truly great. Acknowledgement of the mystery within is
humbling only when seen as from God and not from ourselves. Yes,
we have a power to express our inner creativity, as we will see;
we can cooperate and share with others; we can heal and teach and
do deeds of great benefit; but it is only because we participate in
deeper Mystery -- and that was a gift to us.
As we probe the depths within, we find ourselves asking over
and over Why? Why? Why? Each answered creature-directed question
affords still another question, never ending or satisfying, but, by
this almost innate impulse we move in a consoling manner; we
journey inwardly through mysterious pathways and stirring of the
soul to a God who invites us beyond ourselves to absolute uncreated
Mystery. In the next sections we will look at the call itself, the
object of that call in the cosmos, the harmony of being called to
service, and the products that are the work of our hands.
c) Mystery beyond -- God is deepest Mystery and the source of
all mysteries around us and within us. We assert this on faith.
At first, we were captivated by the mysterious in the divine
handiwork, Yahweh imprinted on the world around us. We look within
ourselves and find another world of mystery and seek to fathom this
in our soul and within the questioning powers for deeper and deeper
questions and answers. But God does not leave us orphans.
Christians find in Jesus Christ the seat of ultimate Divine
Mystery, who we come close to through the sacramental life. We
trust his words -- To have seen me is to have seen the Father.
(John 14:9b). Jesus is faithful; he guides us through our
wilderness, our bewilderment. He turns wilderness into a friendly
place, a neighborhood worth protecting. Jesus is the gentle
companion amid the glorious array of creation that reflects some of
the divine glory. He beckons us to come to the incomprehensible
Mystery that will be before us on an eternal journey of love. God
is Mystery. God, the Creator be praised! Let nature's beauty
unfold! Let me be drawn to Mystery as a moth to light! And help
us someday to see that light!
We strive to find our God in many ways and see this as a
journey of a whole people, not just my personal adventure. Yes,
others come to our God in their own way. Many of us Christians
cling to a natural theology and note the strict language of Vatican
I declaring that all must hold that the only true God, our Creator
and Lord, can be known with certainty through his works by the
natural light of the human reason. When drawn up in 1870 these
words were more directed to those who denied human potentials
rather than those denying God. The great Protestant theologian
Karl Barth found fault with this natural theology and with what he
considered to be the Catholic exegesis of the Romans passage.
Ever since God created the world the divine everlasting power
and deity -- however invisible -- have been there for the mind to
see in the things God has made. (Romans 1:20)
Henri Bouillard, in The Knowledge of God (New York: Herder and
Herder, 1967), defended a traditional position of Christian Faith
and the natural knowledge of God, something that I have always
found most comforting since taking a course in Natural Theology in
pre-Vatican II days. However, Barth's fear of constructed idols is
worth pondering as well. Human beings unguided by Revelation tend
to create their own gods to fill the void of life; but so do all
people even those with religious traditions. Mysterious artifacts
can easily be made objects of worship and are quite often in this
age of gross materialism. Bouilllard says St. Paul discovered a
knowledge of God in the idolatry of the pagans. Noting that pagans
demonize creatures, he (Paul) reflected on this conduct in order to
understand both its possibility and its culpability (Bouillard, p.
51).
Our faith's journey when graced by divine favor allows us to
enter the deeper realms of mystery while in this life. We could
not find those realms without revelation but, once revealed and
invited into the Divine Family, we suddenly see that what appeared
to be undifferentiated mystery has actual components, which are
real and distinct. Ultimately there is one Mystery as our goal
beyond, but for now we make distinctions about the degrees of our
participation. Would that we have the power to see all the more
clearly.
2. To Hear the Call
We were gathered on the porch of Great Aunt Mary and Great
Uncle Joe's home, the 1812 Bruce House, in Fleming County. Father
Danz had come out to visit them on that Sunday afternoon. For some
unexplained reason I went up and told him I wanted to be a priest.
It was the only person I said that to for the first twenty years of
my life.
We listen and hear God's call, a constant call in the springs,
summers, and autumns of life. Yes, I was called in that eternal
winter before my birth, in the ages before I was even a glint in my
parents eye. I enter God's ever present tense and have a place
even before I come to be. It is mystery extending from
preconception throughout our journey of faith..
Icy stillness in that timeless span,
A cipher in the majestic divine plan,
Spoken against first winter's spell, "God-man."
Within that majestic spoken Word
Our names are called, though the sound be blurred,
But, by another, first heard.
Season's Call, 1994
God calls us from that distant eternity and, once existing, we
are called as our mind becomes active and reasoning appears. We
hear God's call in the seasons of our life both at specific times
(as St. Paul's dramatic call in being knocked from a horse) and
throughout our journey of faith. God calls us to take on good
causes, to move to marriage, religious profession, graduation from
professional school, and other important stages of life. God calls
us back when we err and then to adjust to new assignments and
directions in life. God's calls become part of our continuous
adventures, an unfolding story which becomes part of the mystery of
Mystery. We are free to say "yes" or "no" before our God, for at
times we hesitate and turn away; mercifully we are called to turn
back and this last may even be at the hour of death.
The phenomenology of life's journey, the "travelogue of
faith," makes up the totality of our personal experiences. We
never see it from a distance for we are immersed in its ongoing
rush. We get a glimpse of the trips of others as they pass away,
but we can hardly appreciate the fullness of their own experiences.
Each person's venture is unique with its challenges, burdens and
high points. Upon closer reflection we see that each of these
ventures follow similar patterns of personal transformation, for
all human beings have similar practices, which ground the sciences
of the mind and personality. Our paths can be guided with help by
friends, companions, spiritual director, and counselors. We all
have challenges, individual burdens, and notable events worth
treasuring. Sometimes the precise spans of the seasons of life are
not understood until near the very end of our Earthly journey, when
we prepare to advance to deeper Mystery -- and then in an instance
have that rare opportunity to look back.
Earthhealing as a Calling
Teach us to count how few days we have
and so gain wisdom of heart. (Psalm 90:12)
Never was the call so pronounced as when I traveled up I-35
from post-doctorate work at Austin's University of Texas. It was
a call within a call within a call -- that of being a scientist, of
being a Jesuit, and now of doing public interest scientific work in
Washington, DC. I hummed the song "Spirit of God in the clear
running waters" all the way. I was being called to work I would
continue for over three decades.
Calls within calls -- God calls me not once but both in events
and through constant calls to ever-deeper levels of ministry. In
freedom, we are all invited to respond in a commitment of faith.
At infant baptism my godparents, Uncle Joe and Aunt Margaret,
answered for me and accepted for me the invitation to enter a faith
community. The call to faith, to each of the sacraments, to the
Society of Jesus, and finally to particular work is part of the
ongoing call to be imitators of Christ. Now is the moment to bring
the Good News in word and deed, "Go out to the whole world;
proclaim the Good News to all creation." (Mark 16:15) And who else
is it that I find my focus but the plants and animals and troubled
Earth herself. To become compassionate to our wounded Earth is to
proclaim Good News and that is to all creation.
Calls within calls within calls within calls -- Earth healing
is an authentic calling. Through dialog with my religious
superiors I entered into environmental and public interest
activities at the start of my priestly ministry in 1970 -- and by
the grace of God I have continued it until now. This ministry has
been reaffirmed when I was in the Holy Land on a trip in 1992
sponsored by the Society for the Protection of Nature in Israel.
It was not a pilgrimage but a sponsored tour for environmentalists
of youth educational centers throughout Israel. I asked the person
I roomed with that night (a Cypriot who knew Arabic as well as
Greek) to help me hike over across the Kedron to the Church of the
Holy Sepulchre for I would never again be near Jerusalem. One
desire I had was to touch the holy ground on which the Savior's
blood touched the Earth.
Time passed and we knew the bus would leave by 9:00. We found
the place and even went to Mass with some other Americans at the
tomb a short distance from the Calvary mount. With great
trepidation and a feeling of unworthiness I rushed up the steps and
reached into the dark hole in order to touch the rock and
distinctly heard the words spoken with deep compassion, "Look what
they have done to my Earth."
That experience at Calvary became a transforming event in my
life. And yet it was unplanned. I had great trepidations about
touching the rock when in such a hurried and sweaty condition --
for the bus would leave in about an hour. Still this was more than
a random episode. It became sacred time at Calvary, the most
sacred of sacred space. Over the years the event became the well
spring of inexhaustible consolation. Only recently did I sense the
mission to discuss an eco-spirituality and see that the mission
must be imbued with what is so lacking in this world -- compassion.
Yes, compassion for the Earth itself is at the heart of what I
heard. The suffering Earth is in need of our loving care and
concern, for now I see Christ in our wounded Earth just as Paul
heard the words, "I am Jesus, and you are persecuting me." (Acts
9:5).
A particular calls are more than reaffirming what one is
doing; this call at Calvary's rock insists on focusing talents and
experiences on the environmental problems of our age; it demands
taking time to sort things out; it entails telling the message to
others so that they can help with the extensive work at hand; it
demands a sacrifice, a turning from a prevailing insensitivity to
the needs of people and the Earth; and it demands that we combat
an affluence that creates insensitivity and lack of compassion.
The call leads to more than what I can do in my brief stint on
Earth; it reaches beyond to a process of restoration and healing
that goes far beyond my individual aspirations. See later months
(June and following) for a discussion of the re-creative process of
which we enter as restorers of the wounded Earth.
Unique journeys. What about our billions of different human
fingerprints or our unique DNAs? Law enforcers think they are all
great for identification purposes. Gifts given by the Spirit are
also unique and this makes our individual spiritual journeys our
own and depending on our personalities, talents, family roots and
environment, culture, sex, educational history, and aspirations.
Could it be that heaven will include a narration of the individual
godly journeys to love? Or will hell be the seemingly endless
narration of failed personal ventures? We all are on our quest for
Mystery which early on is youthful venture with its detours and
blind turns, becoming more serious as we mature through a sense of
mission and pilgrimage and finally a passage to Eternal Light. Our
journey of faith is a single whole but containing distinct temporal
components, which are represented as the seasons to life, i.e.,
different times and ways of responding to God calls. The challenge
is to listen well and invite others to help with interpretation.
We may need Help. All human beings search the Divine in that
impulsive question-asking power, the why? why? why? of the young
child giving way to the less intrusive but just as inquisitive
maturing traveler knowing the rough road more as a journey. But the
divine also seeks us and that is the need for our listening. But
our spiritual hearing can become impaired by the congestion of
life, and so we need help. That is the case of the youth, Samuel,
who simply didn't know who was the one calling his name. (I Samuel
3: 3-10). He kept running to the elder prophet Eli who finally
realized that it was God calling and told Samuel to reply to the
call, "Speak Lord, your servant is listening."
Good listeners -- I don't admit to being near as good a
listener as others who are not tempted to look at one's watch or
wish the person would hurry up. No, they have all the time in the
world and they seem so tolerant of others from different cultures
and sub-cultures. Growing up on a farm which supplied most basic
needs makes me champion hard work, independence, self-reliance, and
personal time for reflection; it also made me a "hard guy" who has
given little place for male compassion -- a feminine virtue. Rural
attitudes certainly remain for me -- "you can take the boy
out of the country but not the country out of the boy."
Face it, the great majority of Americans and an increasing
percentage of the world's people do not share the rural experience;
they are urbanites with their own unique virtues and weaknesses.
I am "called in a general sense" to abandon the imagined
superiority of rural virtues, but this requires a unique openness.
Listening to others and helping them detect and interpret their own
calls demand spiritual maturity. Calls to individuals affect us
all, and we ought to be willing to assist others with understanding
their individual vocations.
3. To Taste God's Creation
All things the Lord has made, bless the Lord
Angels, heavens, waters above the heavens, powers,
sun & moon, stars, showers & dews, winds, fire & heat,
cold & heat, dews & sleets, frost & cold, ice & snow,
nights & days, light & darkness, the earth, mountains
& hills, everything growing on the earth, springs of
water, seas & rivers, sea beast & marine life, birds
of heaven, animals wild & tame, sons & daughters,
Israel, priests, spirits & souls of the just, devout
and humbled hearted, Ananiah, Azariah, Mishael...
Give thanks to the Lord. (Daniel 3: 57-90)
The Microcosm
Gerald Manley Hopkins would keenly observe the microcosm at
his feet to such an extent that he would lie prone on the ground
motionless for long periods of time. On one occasion, a community
brother thought Hopkins was stricken because of the strange
motionless posture, lying perfectly still for a length of time.
The brother became alarmed and went to his aid.
Observers may look out at the heavens, the traditional seat of
divine majesty, to proclaim God's glory -- and this can certainly
be a humbling experience. How can I imagine a million light years
in span and miles? As a down-to-Earth person, I look down and
discover a world beneath my feet, a world of earthworms and
insects, composting soil and decaying leaves, a world that permits
an avenue of interest as well as glory and splendor. Microcosmic
attention is more to my personal taste, and that defies ultimate
explanation. Others have their unique tastes as well and that is
where tolerance enters the picture. Some may be mesmerized by
awesome artifacts: roads, bridges, towering buildings, humble
shrines, statues, rows of corn on the Great Plains, boats, trains,
airplanes, factories, well-preserved forests and clean beaches.
They may even find it hard to avoid an accident when driving down
an Interstate when attentions draws them to a blooming wildscape,
or at this time of year to overhanging icicles. Truly beauty is in
the eye of the beholder.
Attempting to satisfy my taste -- A humble stance is a good
beginning, for it shows me where I am situated. As a humble
observer, I have often planted bare feet firmly on the ground and
let the moist clay ooze between my toes. I accept the word of
experts as to cosmic distances in looking up. I generally avoid the
distant then (incomprehensible past), the way out there (cosmic
limits), and the learned they (experts in such cosmic matters).
God's creation beneath our feet is well worth stooping down for a
closer look, for it is truly here, immediately now, and easily
shared by we the inhabitants. In traveling across country I hunt
out wild edibles so I can taste the land, assimilate it and become
part of it. We are what we eat, and I strive to encourage people
to eat local produce for this very reason. It is just a crazy
habit of mine but it pertains to a space-sensitive eco-
spirituality. I was scolded once by our guide in the central Holy
Land for tasting wild fennel and told never to taste anything green
in the Negeb desert, for if something is green it will most likely
be highly poisonous. I obeyed the admonition.
Earth for me is not as a mere speck among the cosmic dust in a
vast cold void but the ground of my being, the womb, and the
destiny of this mortal body. It is close at hand, something we can
smell and feel and even taste. Earth, mother of us all, warm,
living, and holding a microcosm is still the psychological center
of my universe -- and that is essential to my eco-spirituality. We
continually are fed on the milk of mother Earth.
A Primary Impression? The whole universe shows the handiwork
of and presence of the Creator (Psalm 24), but where is it clearer
except nearer to me? Do we look up or do we look down? There is
an argument for looking first one way and then the other, but where
do we start? I personally inspect, bless and touch areas not meant
to be conquered and exploited. Once when explaining my preference
for the microcosm, author Michael Dowd, whose emphasis is the
macrocosm, asked whether I could explain the microcosm in the same
manner as used by the proponents of the "New Cosmology." I
politely declined saying it was not my eco-spirituality. A
microcosmic explanation found in the sciences of geology, botany,
zoology, biochemistry, and other disciplines enhances our sense of
wonder but does not replace the theological message of Genesis,
which is as valid today as when written. Our respect for all
creation deepens both through the life sciences and theology
working cooperatively but on their separate tracts.
Atoms and Molecules -- Focusing on the microcosmos leads us to
the fascinating fields of physics and chemistry, the vast and
complex world of molecules, atoms, and sub-atomic particles. What
the venturer soon finds is that seeming infinity goes in two
directions -- outward and inward. Where are the limits to sub-,
sub- sub particles and to the outer portions of the universe? Or
are these beyond the means of scientific investigation? Are we
ultimately discovering our own finitude and at the same time the
infinite of the Almighty Creator? Are the frontiers being pushed
back in two directions? Are these scientific researchers the
chosen human instruments of revelation and of the unfolding of
hidden mysteries.
Chemical reactivity -- I am a chemist by training with very
warm and wonderful feelings towards that science, but I find that
when speaking of natural phenomenon, many people have unpleasant
memories of difficult academic physical science courses, and so
lack an appreciation of the world of atoms and molecules. Their
courses were often regarded as complex or perhaps frightening.
Such a lost opportunity! All of creation including the marvels of
chemistry and physics points to God's joy -- and it ought to be
enjoyably received. And what is the response to divine joy but
grateful participation with what is here revealed. One enters into
God's action when observing or effecting a chemical reaction in the
laboratory -- a process of changing molecules into others through
some scientific procedure. The most elementary sharing in the
universe happens when materials break apart in order to form more
stable substances, often but not always releasing energy in the
process. Human beings enter into that sharing by their
participation in the hastening of the process -- and it is a work
spiced with rare enthusiasm.
New compounds -- Those microcosmic processes which are more
easily grasped are so fascinating that we can be cast into a
chemical spell. We can journey into the pathways of reactivity,
mixing materials of known structure and plot out the reactivity and
the products of certain predictable structures and characteristics.
Many of us in synthetic, organic or inorganic, chemistry can and do
make something new -- a compound never before known. The cynic may
ask, who cares? But the synthesizer penetrates the curtain of
mystery and enters into the creative process with a sense of the
joy of a new birth.
Chemicals are both all about us and are in us and yet they can
be identified, isolated and manufactured for the good of humanity
and all creatures. But uncontrolled production and use can yield
pesticides that poison and emissions such as dioxin that pollute
and contribute to a bioaccumulation of toxic materials. "Better
things for better living through chemistry," which we heard on the
air waves while growing up, can become mistaken ventures. What
begins in glory can end in pollution, to the degradation of our
delicate environment. The microcosm raises a challenging question:
Is our increased knowledge of the chemical world a promise or a
peril? Applied chemistry requires respect unveiling the wonders of
the structure of matter in research laboratories where new
medicines, fibers and plastics are discovered. Too much of a good
thing or a misapplication of a dangerous chemical can spell
disaster.
The Macrocosm
I look up at your heavens, made by your fingers, at the moon
and stars you set in place. (Psalm 8:3)
I was part of an environmental team casing out solar cooker
possibilities in Peru; we made a side trip to Lake Titicaca in the
remote Bolivian border region where there was no electricity. The
night was black except for the heavens and there was the Southern
Cross, stars I would never see again and with such brilliance.
I'll never forget the starry experience above and the darkness
below.
Some prefer to start their observing quest with the vast
universe with its incomprehensible distances of light measured in
the years it takes for a beam to travel at the speed of light.
Astronomical distances are just that: beyond what can be
comprehended by the human mind. In that vast space, I see tiny
fraction of the tiny specks of stars twinkling above with a certain
warmth, but perhaps more often with the coldness of the vast domain
of outer space.
Look out -- Part of January's outdoor experience is to observe
the heavens that stand out in the clear Appalachian nocturnal
heavens. I prefer to start on the ground with natural Earthly
beauty, but the taste of others is to start with the heavens.
Admittedly, that is more tempting in winter when the microcosm is
frozen and the macrocosm is so inviting on clear nights. For
decades, I thought rural folks look down and urban ones up.
However, that is a horrible oversimplification. Besides, today
many people in urban areas are plagued by "light pollution," the
effects of artificial lighting which obscures through a glaring
effect the immense panorama of a once non-polluted night sky. For
all, the night sky remains the last great natural frontier of God's
creation. A century ago scientists focused on one galaxy with its
estimated one hundred million stars. With modern instrumentation
observers extended the heavenly viewing domain; now we know our
Milky Way contains about 100 billion stars and that there are a
hundred billion galaxies in the universe each harboring countless
stars.
The heavens declare the glory of God,
The vault of heaven proclaims God's handiwork;
day discourses of it to day,
night to night hands on the knowledge.
No utterance at all, no speech,
no sound that anyone can hear;
yet their voice goes out through all the earth,
and they message to the ends of the world. (Psalm 19: 1-4)
Respectful attitudes -- Who are so insensitive or depressed
as to never look upward or to be awestruck at the sight of the
heavens on that clear cold January night? Would they not wonder in
at least some elementary way about how many heavenly bodies there
might be out there? What about the properties of these heavenly
bodies -- their color, shape, light texture, movement? Do they
dance for their Creator day and night? Are there limits to that
space out there and how is it expressed? How can one even imagine
a light year and yet we speak of thousands or millions of them in
universe distances? And beyond this vastness we speak of the
almighty Creator, the Incomprehensible One. Experts with high-
powered telescopes plumb the heavens. And the grandeur of God's
cosmos triggers a prayer of praise. Maybe for someone it could be
a resolution to take urban deprived youth beyond the light-polluted
metropolitan area for their first chance to see a star-lit night.
4. To Detect Harmony within Creation
Pride of the heights, shining vault,
so, in a glorious spectacle, the sky appears.
The sun, as he emerges, proclaims (radiates heat)
at his rising,
'A thing of wonder is the work of the Most High!'
(Ecclesiasticus 43:1-2)
Experiencing harmony. All God's creation reveals harmony
which we can detect through all our senses, not just our ears and
eyes. Harmony is a delicate matter, one easily overlooked by the
insensitive person. That delicacy makes us opt for a preference
for the olfactory sense; a faint perfume is enticing, whereas a
heavy concentration is repulsive; composting leaves add freshness
to the late autumn and early winter air, while we seek to avoid
decaying animal matter.
The quality of harmony within a home is often punctuated by
the aroma of a well-cooked meal at festival time. It indicates an
accomplished cook, an inviting environment, attractive table
setting, and perhaps even soothing music. The home exudes an
ambiance of harmony and yet it is hard to define. That particular
home situation also applies to "ecos," our Earthly home
environment. A delicate balance is absolutely essential and yet it
is hard to define: biodiversity of flora and fauna, carbon and
nitrogen cycles, wildlife migratory routes, ingenious construction
of a den or nest, complex language of singing birds, timing of the
budding of trees, adaptive methods of flourishing forest
understory, and on and on. Nature's harmonic ways fill libraries
with research in the biological and earth science fields.
Many of the Earth's inhabitants join into the harmonic rhythms
of nature and show their awareness and respect in the way they
live. Primitive peoples are often keen observers of seasonal
changes, exact astronomical calculations, the movement of heavenly
bodies and native plant growth patterns; they celebrate solstices;
they place stones precisely to allow sunlight to penetrate holes
and gaps in rock at Stonehedge in England or in the American
Southwest. They toil on this Earth and experience sacrifice and
suffering, and they develop a natural sense of compassion that can
easily be overlooked by the affluent. Some of our modern people
respect harmony through housing that does not harm the landscape,
cultivation that does not erode, and balanced nutrition in their
food intake. But excessive lawns, pesticide-covered fields and
obese junk food eaters make us wonder. Forest managers and
wildcrafters participate in harmonious actions when respecting
their surrounding -- and disharmonious ones may exploit natural
resources and remove unsustainable quantities of forest products.
Creating harmony. A little disharmony can ruin the delicate
reign of harmony. Diverse people of all ages and cultures may
create harmony in music, celebration, worship, home and community
life, and ordinary decorations but it takes an effort. In fact, to
create harmony is far more difficult than to create disharmony.
Inner harmony that s soothes the soul can be abruptly lost by
cruelty and discordance.
The contrast of harmony and disharmony is ideally exemplified
through the auditory sense. Here we speak of appreciating,
preserving and creating harmonious situations as in music. We hear
a harmony as the simultaneous sounding of two or more tones, a
simultaneity of diversity and elements coming together to form an
agreeable sound. Harmony involves a balancing of unity and
diversity, giving and receiving, performers and audience. That
emphasis results from a ecological propensity (not because I was
born under the Zodiac sign of Libra, the scales). If we are created
in the image and likeness of God, we inherit a godly impulse to
harmonize; when we turn from godly ways we can easily create
disharmonies, which we will treat in February.
Let the heavens be glad, let earth rejoice,
let the sea thunder and all that it holds,
let the fields exult and all that is in them,
let all the woodland trees cry out for joy.
(Psalm 96:11-12)
Nature speaks. In summer, trees whisper in the breeze, corn
leaves unfolds to where you can hear it grow, mockingbirds unveil
their enticing repertoire, and whippoorwills salute the dawn and
dust. But harmonious nature also speaks in winter though more
muffled: creeks gurgle under the snow banks; thunder announces a
dramatic change of weather; the chipmunks chirp as they bound about
in search of food. When we listen more intensely in this season we
may even hear disharmonious sounds: flooded streams rushing down a
denuded mountainside; the crash of a broken tree in a cut over
forest patch; the crow squawking disturbed while scavenging on
roadkill.
Harbingers of discord. We listen, we pause, we wonder. What
is so consoling to our soul in nature's harmony can turn to
desolation through human carelessness and accident. Americans are
being subjected to increasing levels of noise pollution, often to
a dramatic degree -- snowblowers, jackhammers, motorcycles,
airplanes. We are captives within a vibrating steel drum with no
escape in sight. Even hospitals have escalating sound pollution
now averaging 60 decibels in an average daytime. First class
airplane cabins have higher decibel levels than allowed in
factories. This discord affects psychic health and force people to
the refuge of acoustically insulated basement of the recesses of a
library.
Sensory contrasts. Harmony is more than pleasant sounds; it
is the actual interplay of pleasing sound and silent pauses --
distant church bells, playing children at recess, and cow bells in
the meadow. Likewise harmony is not the mix of good and bad odors
or good and bad sights; it is the contrasts of natural background
aromas and that of a pleasant meal; it is the contrasts of light
and darkness with accompanying hues and colors. We flee congestion
and noise pollution, we seek to escape air pollution's odors and
littered and overdeveloped landscapes. Ultimately some must flee
to the silent recesses of the heart where God prepares harmonious
space for us. But that is difficult to justify in a natural
harmonious world in which we seek our quality of life. Why seek to
run? Why not take back what is rightfully ours, namely a
harmonious Earth? Isn't it worth fighting for?
Then came a mighty wind, so strong that it tore the mountains
and shattered the rocks before Yahweh. But Yahweh was not in the
wind. After the wind came an earthquake. But Yahweh was not in
the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire. But Yahweh was
not in the fire. And after the fire there came the sound of a
gentle breeze. (I Kings 19:11b-12)
Revealed harmony. The divine harmony is eternal but is
revealed to us in space and time. A return to original harmony
captivates us, beckons us, brings us back to our senses. We hear
the distant resonances of the Big Bang. Auditory and other
sensations are received through our functioning receptors via the
air at a given rate. When sounds travel at one thousand feet per
second we can approximate distances by how long it takes an
explosion to reach us. The favorable breeze will carry the foul
odor off to less fortunate inhabitants or out to sea. The shroud
of darkness or the now fallen snow will remove the sights that so
depress us at least for a short time. Looking deeper in time
rather than space is there a revelation of harmony in the
concurrence of past events, future anticipation of new events and
the present moment? Can we take back the harmonious because that
is the godly thing to do?
Moments of timelessness. We listen to music and forget about
time. A sound catches our fancy, causes us to pause, to
concentrate. We slip from physical time to a psychic suspension of
time, a moment of eternity. We awake to "reality," but isn't this
moment of timelessness reality also? Good music is in time and yet
beyond, ignoring clocks and schedules. Symphonies, no matter how
elevating in grandeur, have breaks and pauses for refreshment but,
when occurring, make us forget time. In music, we have a glimpse
of Mystery both in time and timelessness. We hear the music,
perceive harmony coursing through our body, take temporal pauses,
and still experience that timelessness. Isn't music the gateway to
a Divine harmony revealed in passing time, a moment of grace, a
promise of future glory. But we have to seize the moment and in
that moment we experience Mystery. Somehow the three (past memory,
future promise and present moment) are distinct but one.
The ideal ecological interrelationships of all beings
coordinate together to form an interior harmony, which reflects
God's perfect harmony. God's grace floods the universe with a
sound hardly perceived except by the prayerful ones, the listeners
and the compassionate. We are called to create the silence to
listen and the will for compassion. Mystery involves the divine
harmony; we are called to return; our return is not to exotic
practices but to heal an Earth in trouble. We fall back to
harmonic moments that can console us and we wish for more; we
discern a practical course; and, strange as it may seem, the models
for such change are not the intellectual elite but the ordinary
folks who work day in and day out to rebuild our damaged Earth.
5. To Touch the Earth
Take a potter, now, laboriously working the soft earth,
shaping all sorts of things for us to use.
Out of the same clay, even so one models
vessels intended for clean purposes
and the contrary sort, all alike
but which of these two uses each will have
is for the selfsame potter to decide. (Wisdom 15:7)
A Potter -- I once approached a potter at Mount Mitchell State
Park, NC, and marveled at her dexterity, her confidence in handling
the clay, the delicateness of her touch, the intensity of her
concentration, the shared beauty of the emerging shape of the pot
at the wheel, and her enthusiasm in answering my questions about
handling the wet object. Her creating act was a public
demonstration as well as an opportunity to make an artifact. And
the wonder is that there emerged before my eyes a humanly
constructed artifact from what was only moments before a glob of
clay. I witnessed a creative act.
Although not a potter, I marvel at their work. My dad spent
his retirement years creating a series of wooden craft and art
works, some of which are now housed in local museums. We all take
pride in creating art and we celebrate its emergence on occasion.
It is the work of our hands, which we offer with bread and wine
(grown, milled, baked, picked, fermented, bottled) solemnly at each
Liturgy. We offer gifts made by many hands, and we thank God for
hands to use the computer -- otherwise our work could not be
completed in a reasonable time.
Note: The emphasis here on hands is not intended to denigrate
the creative marvels of handless artists; some of them use their
teeth and feet to paint and type. However, the hands participate
in creativity and are vital to human progress. The distant human
relative, homo habilis, was aided by hands when he/she no longer
needed them to double as feet (standing erect), and thus began to
exploit stone for tools, which became a powerful technology for
future human progress ("The Proper Study of Man: A Study of Human
Evolution," The Economist, December 24, 2005, p.6).
Our entire body enters into the creative act to some degree,
though some parts contribute more than others. Artists speak about
how their work totally involves them. But even though other body
parts contribute to artistic creativity, human hands have liberated
us and allowed us to rise above other primates in dexterity. Human
beings developed tools and made good use of them. Although other
animals may excel us in strength in pulling, speed in climbing, and
agility in swinging, human beings are the master tool makers, users
and developers. Hands are utterly important, and yet dexterity
requires more than hands because a brainless or demented human
being with good hands will do little. Furthermore, a heartless
person with a good brain and hands can easily turn artifacts and
tools into weapons.
Good handwork implies a good head and good heart, all working
together. If we use hands in conjunction with our head and heart
for the good of others, we become more like the God working in our
world and, our bodily harmony shares in the divine harmony of the
universe.
Just as a human body, though it is made up of many parts, is
a single unit because all these parts, though many, make up one
body, so it is with Christ. (I Corinthians 12: 12)
Analogy of body. St. Paul speaks of the gathering of the
faithful people as a body, and proceeds to call it the "body of
Christ." The people become the members of that body and work
together for the health and welfare of the whole body. So it is
with the creative act of an individual crafter/artist; the head
and heart and hands contribute to the totality of the artist's
creative activity. The head contrives, plans and designs; it
directs and guides the making of the artifact; the heart gives
inspiration and the impulse to demonstrate the artifact to others.
A work of art does not stand hidden even if made for its own sake;
it is a form of communication, a public expression of a work worthy
of view and admiration by others, who benefit by coming in contact
with it.
Process of painting icons. Artifacts are worthy of respect
for they show creative power and reflect back to the power of the
Creator. Sacred icons are the works of art which are created in an
atmosphere of prayer and are intended to raise the minds and hearts
of believers; they become the windows to Mystery and have been held
in that regard for centuries with deepest reverence, especially in
the Orthodox Christian world.
Process of human knowing. For centuries the intellectual and
rational process has been considered a manifestation of the Creator
-- a fertile field for thinkers from St. Augustine to Thomas
Aquinas and beyond. Mental "artifacts" have been the domain of the
scholastics and then the academics. They are pointers to the
sphere of the Holy One.
Process of earthhealing. For the earth healer, the domain or
art creation and mental processing has broader implications.
Planetary restoration at whatever place becomes an icon and
requires rational processing. The restored piece of the biosphere
is a window to what can be done to the whole ecosystem.
Environmental restorative art can thus become an artifact; it is
the projection of the creative person, can be admired by the artist
and others, and can be of value in itself. All artifacts even
ecological restoration projects are pointers to the Creator.
Unfortunately, not all artifacts or works of art are seen as
a reflection of the Almighty; some are made into little gods or
idols. And in a highly materialistic culture like ours, idols
abound in so many places, namely as cars, boats, planes, homes, and
toys.
My idol -- When I owned that first car it was like a dream.
I had wheels, freedom, power, and independence. What a feeling!
I cherished that green Oldsmobile and of all the things I had to
give up, nothing ever hurt me more than parting with the shiny
chrome-laden gas hog of the mid-20th century. Looking back on
what our culture was like then, I'm convinced I idolized that car.
A process. The creation of an artifact includes a succession
of operations -- planning, model-building, theme, experiments and
ongoing admiration. Art involves body coordination and much
headwork. Sometimes the maker decides to discard the piece, but
more often it moves to completion. Artists participate in the
creative process with the totality of their bodies and whole
beings; they reflect on their experiences and some verbalize them
upon completing the work. Some are dissatisfied and destroy their
works in hopes of making better one. Those more or less satisfied
share their works with others for the observers' own admiration and
benefit.
There is a pattern in the art-making process, the artist's
giving, receiving and sharing being part of the deeper Mystery of
God. The emphasis here is on use of hands because of the nobility
and necessity of that bodily organ in an eco-spirituality, which
needs to be practical and to create restorative artifacts. While
the head is needed for planning and thinking out results and the
heart is needed for compassion in healing, the hands have a vital
part to play as well. Through the nobility of human hands a
healing touch on the Earth is possible. And for all the workers of
the world, this is truly Good News.
Manual Labor and Appreciation
So if all that we have in common means anything to you,
welcome him as you would me ... (Philemon 17a)
Workers -- We all worked together at threshing time, whites
and blacks in the hot Kentucky sun. No one complained that we
sweated in the same field. But when it came time for dinner, and
a big one at that for everyone, we were segregated, and whites ate
in the kitchen and blacks on the porch. It was the same menu of
chicken and twelve other dishes, but customs did not allow us to
share a meal together. It really hurt our family and we had a
heart-to-heart dialog and decided to confront the local southern
custom; at our home we all would eat together just as we worked
together.
Paul urged Philemon to receive back his slave Onesimus (The
Letter from Paul to Philemon). So often the ones who toil to make
this nation and world are segregated from and overlooked by the
ones who enjoy the benefits. That segregation is a denial of the
nobility of the work of migrants, servants, child laborers, and the
nameless millions or billions who work from the sweat of their
brows. They have built levees on the rivers, railroads and
highways across the land, irrigation ditches, pyramids, humble cob
houses, and small gardens for their families. They have herded
goats and cattle and cooked countless meals for hungry mouths.
Work as revelation. These unknown workers of the world are
godly people steeped in glory; it is improper to think of a
merciful and humorous God who does not reveal the Divine Nature in
what these godly people do, not necessarily in what the elite do.
The shepherds and fishermen were the first to proclaim the Good
News of his coming -- and they were humble laborers. We plumb the
depths of human labor, its artifacts, its character, and its
contribution to world history to find something about the Almighty.
We hardly think when we acquire a product just how much labor of
hands, head and heart were involved. Pain, headache, sweat, and
backache are ingredients in many foods and articles of clothes --
and yet we hardly notice. Compassion makes us sensitive and so
does manual labor. We need to divorce ourselves from the
unappreciative slaveholder.
Laborers and the Messianic Age -- Laborers throughout the ages
may or may not have excelled as individual artisans, but in the
thousands they contributed to building pyramids, irrigation canals
and roads. Was the one who hoisted the cathedral stone to the next
higher platform an artisan or a simple but noble co-worker? What
about the one carving the stone? We see the reflection of God more
easily in individual products (craftworks, art, gardens,
residences), but this reflection is present also in those
collective works done by large numbers. Perhaps the common day
laborer or person who tidies up a house does not stand out for
recognition, but each has importance in the divine scheme of things
where each does godly work with heart and hands. None of their
efforts or suffering is lost. All is gain. Through their efforts
these nameless ones bring forth the Messianic Age and do so more
emphatically than the individual artisans. They become the
faithful chorus, the collective bearers of Good News.
Memory -- When some loved one's memory fails, we pause and
try to appreciate the very precious, fragile, and short-termed span
of earthly life. We value our own good mental and physical health.
We redouble our efforts to use our properly functioning mental
powers to efficiently direct, plan, and find ways of completing our
personal projects. The body is mortal and the memory is finite.
Thank heavens God's memory is not that way; the Divine Memory,
which encompasses the promises, covenants and the marvelous deeds
of old is perfect. When we pray that God forgets wrongdoing, we
show our confidence that those deeds are overlooked in an
atmosphere of Divine Mercy. Thank God our weak memories are not
the definitive records of our journeys of faith; the work of
raising families and holding communities together through the glue
of human toil and sweat is remembered by God. What little of that
we retain, we ought to celebrate while still fresh, for ordinary
good deeds are godly and lead to profound healing. These are
touching thoughts for all laborers with compassion accentuated by
personal sacrifices of love.
C. ACTIONS
We seek to delineate actions based on our everyday domestic
and institutional practices (environmental actions), our spiritual
exercises which need to be closely integrated with the physical
activities undertaken, and specific interactions with others
associated with the intellectual challenges confronting our stance
on God's creation.
1. Environmental Action: Develop a Conservation Ethic
During winter we tend to conserve energy -- for space heating,
in our physical exercise, and as fuel for vehicles. While
conservation is a good year-round environmental practice, it seems
to be more appealing in the dead of winter. Why? The house is
cold; we have to do extra exercise to stay warm when outdoors so
we put off unneeded repairs until spring; we are inclined to eat
more energy packed foods though these can be fattening; and we
reserve the vehicles and their fuel for more urgent needs and we
combine trips especially in wintery weather.
To conserve a resource means to avoid wasting that resource
when not needed. A good conservation ethic is the most elementary
part of good environmentalism, and no one can go much further
without first considering some of the extravagances accepted as
routine by our super-consumer culture. Today, a conservation ethic
is counter-cultural at its deepest level. The culture says it is
good for the economy to use many things provided we give lip
service to recycling (this will be treated later). This lack of a
conservation ethic is exemplified in institutions seeking to be
"green" and yet never audit food waste, overheated space or the
conversion of greenspace into additional parking.
Being godly and in harmony with creation propels us to adapt
a conservation ethic. The harmony that we find in all of creation
calls us to live in a godly manner and that means to use things
with respect and care. Waste is out of the question; it disregards
the legitimate needs of one's neighbor; it permits disorder,
litter, and degradation of the total environment. Our efforts at
being godly require that we challenge wanton waste on our own part
and that of others around us. The ethic requires that we speak out
and resist wasteful practices, which ultimately remove resources
from our needy neighbors.
Waste is a blasphemy against an all good God. Waste that
litters our countryside is improperly disposed of in landfills that
are leaking or smelly, or is incinerated and creates air pollution
problems. Allowing these practices to continue erodes the spirit
of communal life and good order. Waste shows a basic insensitivity
among the affluent, an expression of the telling question of the
ultimate judge, "Why did you not feed me when I was hungry or
naked?" Once during an environmental resource assessment in a
southern state in January, I challenged a church maintenance
director about a window that would not close properly. His reply
was, "Don't worry; we have the resources here to take care of
extra heating bills." I gave a talk six years later in the same
building and was amazed to find the very window still not fixed.
Somehow, some believe that having enough is a license to use as
much as one desires -- a somewhat dysfunctional attitude, which any
eco-spirituality must confront.
Conservation is a form of necessary self-control,
demonstrating an ability to use wisely the limited wealth entrusted
to us (we shall discuss this entrustment later). We are all
entrusted with resources of different quality and amounts, and we
must exercise self-restraint in their use. Once at an energy ethics
summit, someone posed the question: if solar energy is almost free,
can we use it without regard to conservation? Amazingly, solar
energy proponents are highly inclined to champion energy
conservation, because the equipment used to convert and store solar
energy is costly and the physical resources required to install
solar energy are limited.
A conservation ethic teaches a proper use of goods. The
"First Principle and Foundation" expressed by St. Ignatius in
The
Spiritual Exercises states that we are to make use of created
things in so far as they help us in the attainment of our end, and
rid ourselves of them in as far as they prove a hindrance.
Wasteful behavior involves overuse of resources, a tendency we must
recognize and control. We see that people who overuse resources
are required to spend much attention acquiring, maintaining and
securing these unneeded resources -- and the entire common good
suffers through inattention to the necessary things of life for
others in more need; time, talent, and opportunities are
squandered while the very wastes surround us, distract us, and
ultimately drag us down. Creation is no longer a wonder to behold;
it becomes a commodity to be seized, hoarded, and dumped in favor
of a still more desirable portion of creation.
Specific actions: Just a few concrete environmental ways to
express this conservation ethic (recycling of material things and
compost will be discussed in November) are mentioned here: when
confronting the urge to equal or surpass a neighbor, take a period
of time (depending on the size of the purchase) and ask "Do I
really need this?" in order to avoid impulse buying; seek to reduce
excessive domestic water use through repairing leaks and dripping
faucets and through use of foam-type outlets in bathrooms and
kitchens; do larger batch cooking and use during succeeding days;
reduce energy expenditure for electric lighting through installing
compact fluorescent bulbs (a major domestic and institutional
conservation measure still needing to be widely implemented as of
this writing), keep domestic space heating temperatures lower in
winter and cooling temperatures higher in summer: and choose,
operate, and maintain energy efficient transportation vehicles.
On a community level we must also promote conservation
easements for particularly vulnerable lands so that these tracts
will continue existing as greenspace in current forms.
2. Establish a Specific Prayer Time
Being practical does not mean focusing only on everyday
physical activities such as resource conservation practices. These
however are as necessary for the total person, as the posture and
manner in which we pray are to our spiritual life. Upon seeing
God's creation in its beauty and its fragility, we are called to
pray and to do so with attention and sincerity. We all need to
pray, not just certain elected people. The ministry of prayer
mentioned as the delegated works of the first Apostles (Acts 6)
meant leading the formal prayers of the Church. Prayer is for all,
not just a chosen few. At special times and places, formal prayers
are said together, but we are always to pray. And with respect to
the conservation ethic, we need to find or conserve time in our
busy lives for praying in private in our own way. We need the
focus, the attention, the sacrifice of time. We do not need to
have special prescribed time like five times a day or certain
prescribes words, but we should reserve time in a thoughtful and
systematic manner for private as well as public prayer observed in
certain liturgical settings.
Setting aside time to pray is of utmost importance not for
God's sake but for our own. Some may say they have no need for
periods set aside for personal prayer, saying "In whatever I do and
say I pray -- and God hears me." Truly, we believers are convinced
God has good hearing but I have need to set time aside. It is the
same reason we rest on the Lord's Day; we need to show that some
time is reserved for God (a temporal sacrifice) as a form of
personal sacrifice and as a way to center my own life and thought
on the divine with greater intensity.
The period of more intense conversation with the one we love
is important for building our relationships. So with our desire to
see Divine Love grow within us. To say with emphasis that all that
God creates is wonderful to behold takes some words on occasion on
our own part. For ever-growing reverence we create the spiritual
situation (the site may or may not be a recognized sacred space).
Each prayerful situation becomes the opportunity for wonder that
was lost to return and grow. From a practical standpoint we need
to organize our day both physically and spiritually. Some of us
place our formal prayer or meditation period at the start of the
day; others prefer to put this at the end of the day and place
more emphasis on reviewing the day and giving thanks for good
things that have happened.
3. Speak with Others about Creation
This third portion of action is often difficult for it may
involve divergent positions, which we would really like to
sidestep, especially when involving kindred spirits who share many
of our aspirations. However, we need to discuss openly these
differences for the sake of better understanding. In this January
of eco-spirituality it is important to emphasize that to proclaim
God as Creator of all does not necessarily put one in a certain
religious camp on the creation issue that is raging in America.
We question a narrow fundamentalism that holds that all who do
not subscribe to a rigid body of beliefs are beyond the scope of
further communication. Acknowledging the possibility and
desirability of further cooperative intellectual and spiritual
growth is difficult for the confirmed fundamentalist, who regards
a set of fundamentals as not subject to change, growth or
development and excludes those not adhering to that same attitude
about fundamentals. That position can apply whether a person holds
that the universe was created in seven days, went uncreated, or
that it evolved over fifteen billion years. Fundamentalism goes
further than the variety of beliefs; it is defined by the manner
in which these are held and shared by proponents. Those who hold
explicit creeds are not necessarily fundamentalists, but they are
open to a growth in understanding to which non-adherents may have
something to contribute.
In Eastern Kentucky where I live has one of the lowest
percentages of Catholic Christians in the Western Hemisphere. I am
surrounded by a sea of fundamentalism that holds a literal
translation of every word of Scripture -- though literal meaning
has for many a very restrictive meaning and a failure to see the
broad span of differences among the Scriptural texts. Many of
these fundamentalists hold that God created the world in seven days
maybe even twenty-four hour days -- at least after there was a sun.
Modern fundamentalism is popular because many fear that they will
lose their own cultural identity, the allegiance of their
offspring, and their own present standing in the world. Often
fundamentalism sees "creation" narrowly and fails to see the glory
of a more evolutionary movement of God's creation, one appearing by
seeming chance but being the way God wants the world to move and
be.
I never held a fundamentalist approach to the Genesis account
and regarded evolution as part of God's design (maybe one can
believe in both evolution and intelligent design). Our
interpretation of each book of Scripture through church guidance is
conditioned by the type of writing, the theological intent of the
writer, and the culture in which the story is written. Genesis was
a culturally conditioned story. For those of us who have always
been comfortable with the theory of evolution, there is no major
obstacle, only a wonder at its potential ramifications. The Jesuit
scientist/philosopher Teilhard de Chardin considered that cosmic
evolution embodies the intrinsic dynamic nature of the universe,
which unfolds from the simple material particles through living
beings (biosphere), to the conscious dimensions of human beings
(noosphere) along a line of increasing complexity and interiority
or spirituality. (Reference: Agustin Udias, "Teilhard de Chardin
and the Dialogue between Science and Religion," Institute for
Theological Encounter with Science and Technology Bulletin, Vol.
37, Winter 2006, p. 5).
The creation story as found in the Book of Genesis has a
theological content, namely, the whole of God's creation is of
divine origin and is good. One who mistakenly looks for some sort
of scientific evidence such as the sequence of creation events or
the time period of seven days is placing a certain modern concern
about historicity where it was not meant to be. Such is a false
diversion of attention from the theological content. The sacred
writer talks about the heavenly bodies by day and by night (to keep
the reader from being confused by the sun and moon gods and
goddesses of the prevailing culture); the central point is the
fullness of God's creative power. The goodness of that creation is
spelled out in the language of that culture and time. The
theological content endures; a manner of delivery may differ but it
would be unfaithful not to deliver the same basic theological
message. And some deliver their "New Story" with fundamentalistic
overtones similar to the seven days of creation folks.
Fundamentalists of whatever persuasion call attention to the
creation process; they reveal the created wonders of Earth and the
beauty and grandeur residing there. Even the storytelling aspects
of this process are of value and force us to find modern ways to
tell of God's greatness. The creationist may emphasize God's
creative power even when distorting scientific evidence by saying
that God planted fossils to fool the secularist geologist. These
champions of religion often fail to see that the scientific
evolutionist extends the creative process to millions and billions
of years, thus showing the marvels of such spans of time. Neither
theoretical approach theologically affirms or negates God, but both
place God in a straight-jacket of restricted belief. The theory of
evolution, no matter how much beauty and coherence we find in it,
does not become theology. Christian evolutionists may certainly
accept this theory on its scientific merit and seek to avoid
theological conversation. But is this ultimately a wise maneuver?
Isn't it better to hold both with equal enthusiasm?
A position, which seems best for a meaningful eco-
spirituality, is to affirm evolution as a biological theory in all
its natural grandeur, to affirm theologically the intelligent
design of the God of creation in all the divine grandeur, and to
likewise affirm the possibility of knowing this God through a
natural theology. This position incorporates supernaturally
revealed truths into the entire converging process leading to a
deeper spirituality. We are drawn into using our hands to perform
deeds of practical creativity within a conservation ethic; we raise
our minds in prayer for guidance and in praise; and we extend our
movements to others in hearts filled with love and compassion for
wounded human beings and the Earth itself.
SUMMARY: AN EMPIRICAL START
January as the beginning month, the month of searching for a
glimpse into the depths of Divine Mystery, of hearing the call of
our particular vocation, of tasting the sweetness of being at home
in the Cosmos, of sensing the wafting aroma of harmonic motion,
sound and feeling all intermingled, and of touching in imagination
the wet clay being molded into an artifact. In January we survey
the elements that make us who we are, our sensitivity to space,
time, and social connections, and our goals for the year. While we
can extrapolate from this process, we return to it, for the process
is potent with creative potential. In warmer months we will talk
about the particulars of our journey of faith but now we
concentrate on our sensory perceptions, our basic and raw
experiences, and on how these have both individualistic and
cooperative components.
We see into the mysterious and yet respect what we cannot see;
we hear our individual calls within calls and yet also take time to
listen and help others with theirs; we taste God's great creation
and yet respect some portions as being too toxic for our own
assimilation; we detect the aroma of a harmony that embraces our
use of hands, head and heart and still we refrain from indulging
completely for fear of losing our balance; we feel the exuberance
of creative activity even when we are not involved actually in
making the artifact being molded. January is the time to sharpen
our senses and to acknowledge their limitations.
Seeing part of mystery. We realize that the Earth is hardened
by the deep freeze of the season and so while walking on the
seemingly lifeless soil we know that things are starting to happen;
we know the days that are getting longer and we are confident that
they will be fructified with new produce. The roots below our feet
are awakening just as the witch hazel is harbinger of a coming
spring. We catch ourselves finding in the complex web of self-
consciousness a striving to know more, to ask deeper questions and
to experience that restlessness that will ultimately lead us to
God. Prayerfully, we go outdoors on a crystal cold night and look
up to the heavens and see the grandeur of the universe stretching
far beyond the naked eye; our thoughts become verbalized in praise;
our praise gives way to the urge to do something. Look and see:
creation, the spoken word, and the love seeking to be released.
The limits of that universe reveal how much we have yet to see.
Eco-spirituality encounters faith -- seeing the brilliant
countenance of Christ looking up at us from every creature.
Hearing our individual calls. The cold defines the
environment; the stillness of winter prepares us to listen. If we
concentrate we hear the resonance of the Big Bang, the beginning of
the universe, for it may still be ringing in our ears. We enter
into our imaginary worlds and think we hear noises, but that should
not stop us from listening all the more. So often we speak of the
God who called us once in the distant past to be a married or
single lay or religious state, to enter a certain profession or
avocation , or to take care of a loved one in a particular way.
What we begin to sense here is that God calls us over and over to
ever deeper entries into the mystery of life. We listen with open
hearts to whatever the Lord calls us to do -- and to do so with the
openness of a youthful Samuel, "Speak Lord, your servant is
listening." And we also realize that we are to listen to hear God
calling others as well. An eco-spirituality is collaborative in
its very essence.
Tasting cosmic dust. In the harshness of January we become
more keen to our own senses; we become more practical about
achieving things in the days ahead. As we prepare for the opening
of spring we hone our whole being and taste the goodness of the
Lord. We realize our tastes differ from others and that theirs and
ours are both legitimate; they are simply the way we perceive
things and especially how we see our home, the ecos. This tasting
must be self-controlled, permeated by a conservation ethic, an
atmosphere in which we begin to learn compassion for others.
Actually through that more intense compassion we respect where
others are coming from; we tolerate their tastes and discover that
our world is big enough to contain people of different choices.
However, amid this openness we know that we cannot skip through
life doing whatever we please. There is important work to do, and
this work requires the discipline to sacrifice some preferences and
focus on the important task of healing the Earth.
Smelling the aroma of harmony. Believers are called to
sacrifice, but not by offering animals or first fruits so that the
Almighty will be appeased by the rich aroma. We detect the
delicacy of nature's harmony that is wrapped in mystery and we
sense that this is being disturbed by human carelessness and
insensitivity. The aroma of ecos is being smothered over by foul
air and water, and ultimately there is no escape to ever more
shrinking natural refuges. We are called to do something and we
cannot lapse into quibbling detours. A return to harmony is a
divine calling, and it is not to be dismissed. We are called to
heal and we look about to find those who serve as the best models.
Eco-spirituality must be home-oriented and that means we look about
for the homemakers who show us how to make the Earth once again a
truly harmonious place.
Touching a part of creation. In harsh frozen winter we find
it difficult to touch the Earth. The lengthening days of January
make us crave increasing activity; we experience an edginess to get
outdoors and do something with our hands. A vital eco-spirituality
is like a garden; it needs outside elements (rain and fair weather)
along with fertile soil. Creating an artifact involves designing
what is expected, planning systematically in order to execute a
design, obtaining basic seeds needed to grow, and preparing tools
for use -- but we only do our part of the final work. As
practical, prayerful and concerned people we seek a spiritual life
that embraces the emotional, intellectual and affective components
as well as practical problems through collaborative means. We can
not act alone. We need God's grace and we need willing co-workers
who know how to get a job done. Eco-spirituality involves the
finitude reaching to touch Infinitude -- and limited people
enlisting others for the massive task at hand.
What lies ahead. Eco-spirituality allows for light-
heartedness in many ways. Resolutions get postponed, refined,
bent, fractured, and broken, and there are always a multitude of
excuses like lack of time or energy. Other events may occur -- an
untimely illness or death, a new urgent assignment, a bird flu
epidemic, a terrorist attack and chemical nerve gas release at the
Bluegrass Army Depot twenty miles upwind. There are enough
unfinished symphonies in the world to justify legitimate project
postponements or abandonments. We are often caught in a closing
window of time and must make the best of it. Excessive planning is
part of an old-fashioned deterministic scientific outlook that has
been replaced by quantum theory and relativity. What is more
important is that we talk about emerging probabilities. Based on
past performance, the resolution to write this complete text may be
kept -- but there is no guarantee, only hope.
