Showing posts with label ecostewardship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ecostewardship. Show all posts

Friday, April 22, 2011

Good Friday Meets Earth Day: Tweets & Reflections on Dying and Living during Holy Week

My "tweets" for Good Friday and Earth Day:

Don't make the earth go dark again, be Christ on this earth by caring for all of God's earth and all in God's earth. #goodfirday #earthday

If Jesus suffered & died for your sins, don't let people suffer for your food. Drink fair trade coffee @ home & church #goodfriday#earthday

Put your faith into action at church. Don't use styrofoam for coffee at church. Use mugs. Have people bring their own. #goodfriday#earthday

Broaken & multiplied loaves foreshadow Good Friday & Easter. The earth is breaking & only we can replenish it. #goodfriday #earthday

The Earth groans for salvation. It mourns w/us this Good Friday.#goodfriday #earthday

When Jesus died, the earth is said to have shaken. God & the Earth have a close relationship. Honor one, honor both. #goodfriday#goodearthday

In "Due Date," Jamie Foxx's character uses a reusable coffee filter in his home. Will you? #earthday #godsearth


When today began, I was unsure how to celebrate Earth Day and observe Good Friday. Good Friday is a somber day, a time to remember Jesus' suffering. A time to mourn Jesus' death. No death is "good." Even if good comes from a death, it is unfortunate that someone had to die. Even Jesus.

Good Friday is also a time to mourn our sins and the havoc they--no--the havoc we wreak. The wages of sin are not just death, but also the immediate consequences of our sins. If we do not take care of our body, we get sick or we die sooner than we might have otherwise. If we are cruel to someone, we receive regret and their scorn, hurt and physical and/or mental bruise

Those last examples scar me the most. When I mourn my sin, I mostly mourn how other people pay for the wages of my sins. Many commemorate Jesus as paying the price for our sins, but there are a few expenses not even Jesus could pay. If I hit someone, they still bruise. If I berate my children, they develop the psychological complexes. If I buy cheap chocolate, coffee, and tea, the people doing the most menial tasks to produce those luxuries pay the price I don't pay as their quality of life goes down. [1] The same goes for when I buy clothing produced at sweat shops, especially cheap clothing, but even many more chic, more expensive brands and stores. If I buy a lot of individually wrapped granola bars, candy bars, or fast food, the earth pays. God's earth pays. And everything on the earth pays, too. Including us.

God did not send Jesus to pay for those wages of sin. Those wages are ours to pay. So on this Good Friday and Earth Day, I thank God for Christ on the cross and the Earth we all ravage. I remember the death of Jesus and the dying of the Earth. I remember that sins cause death and sins cause suffering, not just suffering on the cross, but also suffering on this earth. And I remember that caring for the Earth is caring for people, just like loving all people is loving God.

Dear reader, I hope you have a meaningful end of your Holy Week. As we come to celebrate Easter, let us celebrate the life of Christ by being Christ, by restoring God's creation to its glory--people, animal, and earth alike.


Footnote:
[1] Christians send missionaries and mission teams to the same people who suffer from our cheap coffee, tea, chocolate, and clothing. If we send mission teams without purchasing fairly traded luxuries, then we are sending quite the mixed message. We say, essentially, that we care for their afterlife, not their current life. We say it is OK for them to suffer in this life because of us and then live beside us in the next.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

I am a Tree, Rooted in the Sea: Tattoo #3

"I am a tree, rooted in the sea."

Some day, I would like that line to be in a larger poem. For now, that line is the poem.

The line came to me and captured my attention a while ago. It started as "a tree rooted in the sea," until I realized I liked the imagery so much because I am such a tree.

Trees are holy. In Genesis 2, the trees represent gifts of God like life and knowledge. They represent memory and covenant when Abraham plants a tree at Beersheba (Gen 21:33). They are altars. In the ancient and modern worlds, they provide so many gifts, essential and luxurious--heat, shelter, food, paper, furniture, beauty, healing.

In Revelation, a river flows from God's throne when heaven and earth become one. On either side of this river grows trees whose leaves provide healing for the nations (22:2). God gives trees at the beginning in the garden and at the end in the city.

Many trees live cyclical lives, going through seasons of virility and seasons of death, but they keep reaching for the impossible, reaching skyward. They never make it and they always make it, for the sky is always just a little bit higher. Even in death, a tree either becomes a tree again by returning to that which made it grow or it reaches skyward once again through fire, turning into air and ash, entering into more trees and eventually becoming the sky. I have a tree tattooed on my arm, reminding me to reach for the impossible, grasp it, and continue reaching.

Roots are not a biblical metaphor to my knowledge, but they are an apt image for faith, family, and life in general. I have family roots, geographical roots, and spiritual roots. My roots keep me connected, but they do not keep me in one place. Jay McDaniel calls this having roots and wings--having a permanent connection to things of the past, but not being stuck in the past. I call it being rooted in the sublime, ubiquitous, interconnected, permeating sea.

That which gives me life, which moves in and out of me also moves in and out of you. Our roots may never touch, but we are one and the same. The ocean is but a liquid ruach, a fluid pneuma.

I can stand firm against the tempestuous torrents and waves, because of my roots, and I can move with currents, because my roots are not set in something solid. Rogue waves, tsunamis, hurricanes, blizzards--none of these are meant to be weathered alone. Trees standing together withstand more, each in a different spot, but all in proximity.

The deeper my roots become, the farther I can travel and I can go nearly anywhere, since waters cover most of the earth. The stronger my faith is, the more I can do with it, the more I can look back and move forward, to new places on a journey, not on a path. Paths are not worn on the sea. You can only blaze your own trail and no one can follow it exactly. The ways are infinite, the destinations endless.

The tree tattooed on my arm is fashioned after the Tree of Gondor logo featured in the movie The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King. This tree grows and flowers only when its king is in the land. At the beginning of the movie, it is barren in a state of winter, because the city is ruled by a steward. The tree cannot reach its full potential until it is saved along with its people by its king.

The steward is a man who lost his way. The king has been go so long, he usurps the king's role. He is supposed to act in the stead of the king, not as the king, a fine distinction. Whereas he is supposed to care for what is the king's, he acts as if everything is his own and he cares for it like a lost man. His sons are treated like possessions, not people belonging to the king. His kingdom is nearly lost for selfishness and pride. Hope is lost and he kills himself, assuming his king can save neither him nor the kingdom. He sees no future and would destroy all that is the king's, if not for the king's return, foreshadowed in the movie by the tree reaching skyward and blossoming, tapping into its potential.

I had to get the tree tattoo this summer in West Virginia, because my internship title is "eco-steward." I was also fortunate to work with a great tattoo artist who is the stepson of another eco-steward's supervisor. Certainly I was a steward before and I will be a steward after, but this summer and this place rekindled my passion for being a steward of God's world, rooted, but not contained in the Bible. I have gone through virile and dormant states in my relation to God's world and now I am growing, connecting myself to this world in order to connect myself to God.

I am switching again to a vegetarian diet (except for local, responsibly fed and treated animals and locally hunted/fished meats), I am purchasing fairly traded products, I am supporting more local foods, and buying products that produce less waste (for example, cereal in a bag, not a box and a bag, or oatmeal in a recyclable, cardboard cylinder). I have already grown past the beauty of my previous relationship with God and the earth. And the love triangle is already benefitting me, too, as I am losing fat, gaining muscle, saving money, and having a great time doing it.

One side of the tree on my arm has leaves, although it is not clear whether the leaves are falling or growing. The other side is under the stars, perhaps reaching for those stars, tapping into its potential in early spring, or in a dormant state of winter. The tree resists classification of which side is spring, which is fall, which is taken care of by a good steward, which is blessed by God, a conflation aided by a lack of color. The image is cyclical, a fortuitous deconstructive that I did not plan, but rather discovered.

The tattoo is a black outline with dark waves, ominously sublime and representative of the greater sea. Under the waves are visible roots, reaching down as much as the branches reach up. My new tattoo is but a portrait of myself, for I am a tree, rooted in the sea.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Serving in God's Kitchen

Preached @ Fayetteville Presbyterian Church on 11 July 2010.
Text: Matthew 6:24-34

"You see," says Martin Luther when writing about this morning's text, "[Jesus] is making the birds our schoolmasters and teachers. [...] the little flowers in the field, which cattle trample and eat, are to become our theologians and masters and to embarrass us still further."

The birds and flowers are teaching us lessons. They serve God, not money. Likewise, Jesus says we should serve God and not worry about needing money for food, drink, clothing, or the future.

That's a hard lesson. Completely counter-cultural.

One Saturday night working at a men's homeless shelter, I watched a man carefully clear off one of the tables. This man was always particular about things, so I wasn't surprised to see him cleaning. After clearing the table of clutter and crumbs, he meticulously laid a towel over the table so he could iron his "church clothes." The church he attended on Sundays gave him the impression he needed to worry about what he would wear if he were to be accepted.

Church isn't the only place where we are taught to worry about our clothing. Social groups, restaurants, and places of employment all have a standard of dress and if you don't think about that standard, you'll be ostracized with varying degrees of severity.

"Is not life more than clothing? [...] Observe how the lilies of the field grow." They don't force flowers in other countries to prepare their blossoms. They don't have jobs. They don't scrutinize each other if their blossom isn't the right color or if they spent their money on something more practical than a tie.

Consider the lilies, learn theology from them. "If God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will God not much more clothe you?"

Consider the birds. Jesus says they are fed by God. They don't till and keep the earth like God told people to do in Genesis. They simply fly around and eat the food in what Luther calls "God's kitchen." They neither store nor hoard food in refrigerators and cupboards. So, why don't we all become Mother Hubbards with nothing in our cupboards?

Consider the birds and the lilies. How many species have gone extinct? How many sea creatures will die from oil in the Gulf of Mexico? Animals go extinct while God supposedly feeds them and we don't help as we wreak havoc on God's kitchen. The Deepwater Horizon oil spill is only one example of how we are pests in God's kitchen. We drive more than we need, creating the demand for the oil, we use too much electricity, we consume too much, we waste, we conserve too little.

Because of our luxuries and sins, the earth and the people in it are suffering. That homeless man I mentioned is Christian and he doesn't serve money--he doesn't have any money. And yet, he still has good reason to worry about good and clothing.

"Do not worry then, saying, 'What will we eat?' or 'What will we drink?' or 'What will we wear for clothing?' [...] God knows that you need all these things."

Jesus' words aren't as comforting to me as they once were. The headline in my Bible calls this section "the cure for anxiety." My anxiety isn't cured. But, I am motivated and inspired.

Jesus was no ignoramus. He knew about the poor, the hungry, and the naked when he gave the Sermon on the Mount. He is right about God clothing and feeding creation and Luther's metaphor is apt. Creation is like God's kitchen and we're serving in it. We just aren't perfect servers.

This part of Matthew anticipates chapter 25, where Jesus paints a picture of judgment. Jesus says, "I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me. ... just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me" (25:35-36, 40).

God clothes and feeds creation through us, God's stewards. A steward is a person who cares for someone else's property. The first time we encounter the English word "steward" in the Bible is in Genesis where it translates what literally says "the one who is over the house" (43:16). Even in English, the word is a compound of two Old English words meaning literally ward, or person in charge of a house. Stewards never owns the things they are over, rather, they run the place and take care of it for the owner, the ruler, or the monarch--in our case, God.

We are the stewards of God's creation. We are the body of Christ and the presence of God on earth, it is our calling to take care of things, to ensure people don't have to worry about what to eat, what to drink, or what to wear. And when we do so, we are directly serving Christ. We are how God feeds the birds and clothes the fields. And Jesus motivates and inspires us to do a good job, making sure all animals are fed, all lands are clothed, and all people are taken care of even better than the animals and the land.

I listened to a presentation by an up-and-coming author Michael Yankoski, author of Under the Overpass. He told a story about a trip he took to help a village in Africa. He asked his contact in the town what their project was going to be. Yankoski was fully ready to start digging a well, building a school house, or some other big construction enterprise. The man told him, "This year, I would like every one in the village to own two shirts."

Consider the lilies.

Many organizations are focused on providing proper clothing to the poor of the world. Compassion International and World Vision support impoverished children and their families. These two companies are even founded on Christian principles. They are part of God's means of clothing people.

Tom's Shoes is another company making a great effort. Every pair of shoes purchased from Tom's buys two pairs of shoes: one for the consumer and another for those without proper footwear in other countries. Personally, I think most of Tom's shoes are quite ugly, but we can either suffer for fashion or let others suffer without shoes.

I hope you don't think I'm telling you how to live out your faith. That undertaking is not now nor will it ever be my place. I am giving examples of what other people doing and ways you might be able to get involved. And I am quite serious about these possibilities. In your bulletin, there is a "sermon companion" with information I am mentioning. And honestly, I don't own any Tom's shoes. I don't need new shoes and I'm not going to buy shoes if I don't need them. But when adding to our wardrobes, it could be healthy to think about contributing to someone else's. Consider the lilies.

While preparing this sermon, in the very early stages, I considered the birds and the lilies and God inspired me to make a change in my life. I want to share this change with you. I decided I will no longer support coffee and tea that is not fairly traded, which means the farmers and laborers receive fair wages for their products. This is a hard change for me. I probably drink more coffee and tea than I should. When traveling, I've enjoyed stopping at the Go-Mart in town and getting a cup of coffee for some 79¢ in my mug. That's cheap.

Fairly traded products are not cheap and are not limited to coffee and tea. They have cocoa, chocolate, flour, sugar. This box of tea Bigelow tea cost $3 for 20 bags of tea. This fairly traded canister of tea cost $6 for 22 bags. Each bag only costs about 13 extra cents, which really isn't that much.

Jesus started this part of the sermon saying how we can't serve God and money. So let's start using our money for Godly purposes. If I don't pay the price, other people do. Church, I do not feel like I am serving in God's kitchen when other people pay the price for my luxuries, especially when they pay with their quality of life.

I visited the General Assembly Mission Council's website. Did you know the Presbyterian Church has an official position on fairly traded products? They voted on it in 2001 and recommend them. On the website, I read these words: "The majority of the world's population lives in poverty. According to the United Nations Development Program, more than 19,000 children in Africa (and more than 30,000 people worldwide) die each day due to poverty and causes related to international debt." My cheap coffee is one of the benefits of those deaths. It isn't the direct cause, but it is a large influence.

Those numbers aren't meant to make anyone feel guilty. The statistics break my heart, but they do not make me feel guilty. Instead, they inspire me. They inspired me to start serving in God's kitchen by taking care of everything in it and being a more faithful steward. We can all make small changes daily to help these people.

By purchasing fairly traded products, we can help these families get out of poverty. The website says, "Fair trade shares the bounty of the coffee trade with those who grow the crop, helping them build a better future for themselves and their communities. Through fair trade, farmers earn a fairer share of income, have access to services that are otherwise unavailable and gain long-term trading partners they can trust." The Presbyterian Church even co-sponsors a project with "Equal Exchange," a fair trade company. The project is called the "Presbyterian Coffee Project." When churches, social groups, and individuals use fairly traded projects, they are Christ's body serving up justice in this world by defeating poverty.

The General Assembly's website goes so far as saying, "Fair trade is good news." Those are strong words, since "good news" is the definition of the word "gospel." Fair trade does sound like the gospel, like the good news Jesus proclaimed in Luke 4:18-19, where he reads these words of Isaiah: "The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are oppressed, to proclaim the favorable year of the Lord."

Consider the birds, church. Consider the lilies, friends.

The earth and all that is in it--animal, vegetable, mineral--are ours to care for. Caring for the earth and animals does not mean we can no longer use natural resources, swat mosquitoes, and eat animals. Rather, it means we need to do all these things responsibly. We could think before we use natural resources, we might stop killing anything needlessly, and perhaps we could know a little bit more about our food, like where it comes from, what effect it has on the earth, and what God would think about our food. Paul said whether you eat or drink, do everything as unto the Lord. Eating and drinking can be quite ethical or quite unethical. There is a lot to think about with your family, a lot to discuss with your siblings in God, a lot to learn with your neighbors.

Consider the birds. Consider the lilies. Let us join together, become better servants in God's kitchen, stewards of creation.

===

Benediction:

Let us depart the sanctity of this place and enter the sanctity of God's world. Consider the birds and consider the lilies, church, and put your thoughts into action for the sake of the earth, the animals, and all people.

In the name of God the parent,
God the Christ,
and God the Holy Spirit.

Friday, June 25, 2010

Ecommunity: Bethlehem Farm

I haven't received a greeting like the one I received at Bethlehem Farm since I last visited my mother. "Welcome Home," I heard each caretaker say as they stepped in for a hug.

You might think the community greeted me in a special manner. After all, I am the Eco-Steward acting as the roving reporter for the Stewardship of Creation Ministry Team in the Presbytery of West Virginia. However, this special greeting is the huggable "red carpet" they roll out for all of their guests.

This greeting stems from Bethlehem Farm's mission statement, which is the best way to describe this group of people. "Bethlehem Farm is a Catholic community in Appalachia that strives to transform lives through serving the local community and teaching sustainability. We enable volunteers to join us in living out the Gospel cornerstones of prayer, community, simplicity and service." Let's unravel that statement bit by bit to find out what Bethlehem Farm is, who is involved, and how they live out their faith as stewards of creation.

"Bethlehem Farm ..."

"Bethlehem" means "house of bread" in Hebrew and the city in Israel is traditionally known as the birthplace of Jesus. Although no one at the farm made this connection verbally, I believe the people involved live to see the life and love of Jesus--called "the bread of life"--continually reborn in their lives and the lives of those who come to visit them.

The main facility is not so much a house as it is a lodge. Inside are all the living quarters for the eight caretakers, sleeping quarters for volunteers, bathrooms, open-air clotheslines, a large living area, dining room, and, of course, the kitchen, where they regularly bake delicious homemade bread. Bethlehem is a pretty apt name.

The acreage grows crops and care for animals, making "farm" an appropriate title, too. The critters on the farm include two donkeys, a pig, a horse, chickens, a dog, cats, and bees. Some of the animals came with the land, which used to be a Catholic Worker House, and others have been added over the past five years.

The no-till garden yields produce year round. Director and gardener Eric Fitts oversees the organic production of the crops. Of the many natural ways Fitts cares for the plants, the newest is a chicken tractor. The chickens are moved from their spacious living area to the garden where they eat slugs and leave fertilizer. Fitts takes care of the land that takes care of him and those he loves, including the farm community, his wife, and his baby-on-the-way. The residents care for the garden with sensible, spiritual care.

"... is a Catholic community in Appalachia ..."

Not everyone involved in the farm is Roman Catholic, although the cornerstones of the farm come from catholicism. Catholicism is shared, not forced, and the Roman Catholics involved hope others share their faith and perspectives, too.

Volunteers and caretakers alike involve themselves in the faith aspect of the farm only as much as they desire. When they share mass, the priest explains why mass and the Eucharist are important to share, asking those present to participate in the liturgy however they are able and comfortable.

Outside of mass, the group "pray[s] multiple times a day," explains Ashley Boone, the sustainability coordinator and communications director. "And they're creative prayers," she explains, prayers often focusing on justice in their geographic community and the world at large.

Prayer is just one way the people become a small, intentional community that maintains a connection to and involvement with the larger, worldwide community. The caretakers come from all over North America to live communally and in simplicity in order to serve people. They serve each other, befriending and taking on multiple roles at the farm. They serve volunteer groups who come to the farm for service projects, mostly home repair in the surrounding area and community meals at the farm.

And they serve the global community by giving a little bit of Bethlehem Farm to each volunteer, what Boone describes as, "the experience the volunteers take home with them." She said volunteers will contact the farm after leaving, asking for tips on starting a composting system at their home or resources for simplifying and "greening" their local faith communities. Boone says, "a large population of volunteers make changes that are pretty crucial about stewarding creation."

Through the communal actions made inside and outside the farm, the caretakers and volunteers alike become a community. Not only do they live together, but also they become a part of Bethlehem Farm, taking ownership and participation. Boone sees this ownership especially reflected in the recent solar panels purchased and installed by the farm largely through the generosity of past volunteers.

" ... that strives to transform lives through serving the local community and teaching sustainability."

The solar panels are just one "testament" to transformation, as described by Boone. And it is not only the lives of the volunteers that are transformed. In a few months Boone will leave the farm to serve a third year with VISTA at the Alderson Hospitality House. Although leaving the farm, she said there are parts she will take with her, because her life has changed.

One way is through her diet. "What we eat is one of the largest ways we can have a positive or negative impact on the planet," says Boone. When she first moved to the farm, she became a vegetarian and only recently branched out to meat, but seldom and only certain meats, like venison and local, grass-fed beef. The farm is very thoughtful about where their food comes from and that thoughtfulness started a passion in her to last the rest of her life.

Like many others who visit the farm, she was interested in the ecological, economic, and justice issues regarding food before she went to Bethlehem Farm. But when faced with issues outside of familiar areas, she found it harder to view these issues in the same way. Today Boone says, "I won't eat ... meat unless I know where it came from." Diet is one major service and sustainability practice the farm offers, one everyone already makes a decision about daily, for good or ill.

Bethlehem Farm also serves and teaches through home repair, which is their main outreach service. The farm "work[s] with people rather than for them," according to their introduction flyer, available on their website. They don't receive payment, their services are out of love; they want to share what Boone calls their "friendship and presence" as much as their hands and resources to fix a roof or paint a house.

Their "friendship and presence" is shared and generally well received, even though they are and, likely will always be, a group of newcomers, none of them originally from West Virginia. This newcomer status does not slow them down at all.

People still attend the community dinners at the farm and the residents attend events and meals in the area, too.

"Some people find it funny how we recycle and reuse things," Boone mentions. At the farm, you will see aluminum foil and re-sealable plastic baggies hanging up to dry for reuse in the kitchen. When outside the farm, Boone says they bring their own plates and cutlery to some meals so they won't use paper, plastic, and styrofoam. They may get some odd looks and chuckles, but they are not met with resistance and ridicule.

The farm community does not try force their views on others, trying to transform those who do not want to be transformed. Rather, Bethlehem Farm is a "contrast community": they are noticeably different, based on their convictions and what works for them. They act firmly on their beliefs, but do not expect people who believe differently to act like they do.

"We enable volunteers to join us ..."

Bethlehem Farm works towards the kind of transformation represented by the Greek word metanoia, which is a change that comes about by penitence and spirituality, not coercion. The caretakers at Bethlehem Farm create an environment that allows people to come in and try their way of life for a little while, a way of life centered on "living out the Gospel cornerstones of prayer, community, simplicity and service." You can join them through a week of service or a longer time as a caretaker.

These four cornerstones are interconnected, as Boone depicts them and the volunteers and caretakers paint them with their actions. Their prayers occur because they are a community. Their community is deeply steeped in simplicity, especially in regards to sustainability. This simplicity itself is one of a myriad of ways the Bethlehem Farm community serves the larger communities of which they are a part: the Roman Catholic community, the faith community, the local community, and the community that is this earth.

Eco-justice, social justice, economic justice are all, simply, justice. Bethlehem Farm works towards justice with God in the way that seems best to them, which is all any of us can do.

Bethlehem Farm is located in Clayton, West Virginia. To make a donation or to learn more about the community, visit their website at http://www.bethlehemfarm.net/ or consider serving with them for a while.