
Note: The following was presented at the ecumenical Wednesday Lenten Soup and Spirit lunchen.
This is one of the first times that I’ve had the opportunity to speak to an ecumenical group in North Kingstown, after moving here about a year and a half ago. And I have to tell you that it’s been exhilarating to be here -- out in this small seaside town. Of course, I suppose that’s a matter of perspective. One of the parishioners at St. Paul’s told me that she moved here from Providence as a teenager – kicking and screaming all the way because, back then at least it seemed to her to be the boon docks. While another parishioner, who was brought up on Block Island thought that she didn’t know towns could be so big. It’s all a matter of perspective, I guess, like the New York businessman who bought a farm up here in New England somewhere. Shortly after he bought it, he met his new neighbor – an old farmer, who owned the farm next to his. He asked him, “Can you tell me where the property line runs between our farms?” The farmer looked him over and asked in return, “Are you talking owning or mowing?” The way you see things depends upon your perspective. It depends on how you’re accustomed to seeing things.
And so, when you take this familiar story that we’re examining throughout Lent – the story of the Good Samaritan, which is arguably the most famous story that Jesus ever told about the centerpiece of His teaching on love – you expect to hear a person talk about how obligated we are to pitch in and help out some person or segment of society in desperate straights and unable to help themselves. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about at all -- no man, woman, or child, no group or segment of society, nation or ethnic group. I’m here to talk, instead, about a different kind of neighbor altogether – not human at all. If you take Jesus’ story within its context, He told the story in answer to a question and that question was this: “Who is my neighbor?” And the moral of the story that He told to answer that question was this: “Wherever you find desperate need that can’t be met without your help.” I’m here to talk about nature – about the environment – about every living thing on this planet other than humans as our neighbor. It does fit the bill, you know, even if we don’t usually think of it that way. We come in contact with nature as the Good Samaritan came in contact with that poor unfortunate victim who was victimized by those who wanted to take everything from him for themselves and left him for dead. Indeed, I suppose you could say that we’re the ones in the story, who have taken advantage of this victim – all of us together. We’ve taken everything we can from our environment to convenience our selves and to use as we see fit just for ourselves without any regard for its integrity or its ongoing life, and we’re getting worse about it – less concerned and less compassionate. And here it lies, by the side of the road – of our journey through life – bruised and naked.
Even people of faith seem apathetic. In fact, I’d say especially people of faith – especially Christian faith -- seem unconcerned about it. I’ll never forget the sentiments of Secretary James Watt – Secretary of the Interior under Ronald Regan – when he was asked if he were unconcerned that he was overseeing the then most significant roll back of environmental regulations to that point. He said that if it would hasten the return of Christ he’d be delighted by his part in it. In what? In the depletion of the environment. More recently and in a similar vein the author of the Left Behind series said this in reaction to why Christians didn’t seem more concerned about the environment: God made nature for Man not the other way around. The logic of that perspective is this: God created the universe, and all the elements of the natural environment, merely as a grand backdrop for the stage upon which the drama of our human redemption can be played out. We’re all that matters to God and therefore all we should be concerned with is our selves. It’s all always only about us.
Well with all due respect to Mr. Watt and Mr. LaHaye, that just doesn’t stack up to the sacred scriptures of our tradition. There are four covenants to which God committed Himself that are described in the Bible. The first was God’s contract with Adam and Eve, the second was God’s contract with Noah and his family, the third was God’s contract with Abraham and his descendants (the Hebrew people), and the fourth was God’s contract with all people through Christ. In the first two contracts, and if you listen to St. he last one as well, God’s agreement directly involved all of nature as well the humans in question. In the second Creation story – Genesis 2, verse 15 – it says, “The Lord God took Man and put him in the Garden to till and nurture it.” It may just be that God created humans for nature rather than the other way around. Perhaps that’s the answer to our ever-besetting existential crisis. Who are we? Caretakers of planet Earth. Why do we exist? To tend the planet for God. It may not be glamorous, but it may just be true even if it doesn’t satisfy our ego. Then, in Genesis 9:8-10, God makes this startling statement: “Then God said to Noah and to his sons with him, ‘As for me, I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants after you, and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the domestic animals, and every animal of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark. Never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth.’" God made an agreement with all the creatures on the planet. You see the biblical story of the flood tells the tale of how other creatures paid the price – and experienced the consequences – of human misbehavior. God created us to tend the earth and the environment in which we live – on His behalf. We fail to do that and God will not protect us or the rest of Creation from the consequences of our misbehavior. We have robbed our neighbor – the one we were created to nurture – and it lies by the side of our road struggling. It can’t mend itself as long as we humans keep treating it as we do, but needs our help. We’ve violated God’s trust and must love our neighbor – nature – by practicing simpler lifestyles, recycling and generally replenishing the environment, using economic leverage to pressure companies to use environmentally sound policies, find substitutes for environment fouling energy sources and electing politicians for more than our own security and enrichment, but who promise to defend the environment. If we don’t God will let us and our descendants suffer the consequences. Nature lies on the side of the road to Jericho. What will you do about it?
