Psalm 23 is one of the lectionary scriptures for today; and since today is also the Sunday before Earth Day, my attention was drawn to the reference in the psalm to green pastures and still waters. It’s an image of peace and calm and assurance, and it comes from the beauty of creation.
There is so much beauty in creation, and so much that is awe-inspiring…
➤Two weeks ago, when Camp Walter Scott invited Disciples in our region to go down there and view the total solar eclipse, a small group of us from First Christian Church did just that. We joined with about 100 others, most of us on the meadow, and watched as the moon passed in front of the sun, completely blocking its light and warmth. At that moment, we couldn’t help but feel a particular connection to God’s created universe.
I was watching the eclipse, but I was also watching the amazement on the faces of those around me. Even though we all knew exactly what to expect, actually experiencing the moon’s shadow passing over us, plunging us into complete darkness for a few minutes, touched many of us on an emotional, spiritual level that no description can adequately convey.
It reminded me of the middle school boy I mentioned in a previous sermon, who went to church camp for the first time and couldn’t believe how many stars he could see, away from the city lights. All he could say was, “Man! Think of all those kids back home in the city who have never seen this!”
➤And I remember last year at science camp at Catalina Island, watching the kids stand on the rock jetty, exploring tide pools, utterly fascinated by the crabs and eels and squid and anemones and other creatures they were able to see there.
There was this one kid who, after everyone had left, stayed out on the rocks, just watching the crabs, watching how they move, how they hide and emerge out of the rocky crevasses; He took such great delight in watching these crabs, and he would have stayed there all afternoon, I think, except that the tide was coming in, and the waves would soon be crashing over him if he didn’t retreat back to higher ground.
It all makes even a ten or eleven year old child philosophical, pondering our role in the universe. What part do humans play in all this?
We are not separate from creation. We are part of it. Like every other part of creation, we are all connected. The same God who made the stars and the planets and the creatures of the sea, also made you and me. The same God who set in motion the sun and moon, and the tides, breathes life into you and me.
In Psalm 8, there is a verse in which someone is praying to God, and is blown away by all this. That person says to God: “When I look up at your skies, at what your fingers made—the moon and the stars that you set firmly in place—what are human beings that you think about them; what are human beings that you pay attention to them?”
Many writers of scripture are aware of this connection to creation… like the one who wrote Psalm 23, who presented that image of green pastures and still waters, gently flowing waters, good for drinking, for quenching the thirst of all God’s creatures.
And in Psalm 23, with its reference to God as our shepherd, we have an image of humanity and nature working together: caring for sheep, animals of God’s creation, in a way that benefits both humans and animals.
It reminds me of the many ways different species of plants and animals do, in fact, work together for their mutual benefit.
I know that the science of evolution emphasizes the competition and the survival of the fittest, and that is a part of what is true about God’s creation. But often overlooked are the ways that different species actually cooperate rather than compete.
➤Not long ago I was listening to a podcast that talked about traditional knowledge of the Tlingit people in the Pacific Northwest. The Tlingit were aware that, as salmon migrate up the rivers, bears and wolves would grab salmon out of the river and carry them into the forest to eat them… The thing is, bears and wolves aren’t always tidy when they eat; they don’t dab their mouths with a napkin; they’re kind of messy… And some of the bones and some little pieces of the fish fall into the soil…
And those salmon remains decay; and as they do, nutrients from the salmon make their way into the soil; they become fertilizer for the trees…
As a result, those trees grow bigger, and they provide more shade. That shade, in turn, keeps the sun off of the stream, and helps keep the water in the streams colder and more habitable for the salmon, helping the salmon to thrive.
In this way, the wolves and the bears, and the salmon, and the trees, and the streams, all work together to create a healthier environment, an environment where life can flourish.
And the Tlingit incorporated knowledge like this into their own fishing practices, working to maintain the balance, to preserve the forest, to not overharvest the salmon,... so that the life of the ecosystem would continue to thrive for many generations to come.
When I first heard this, I was struck by the beauty. You know that feeling you get when you behold true beauty? Your attention becomes captivated, your emotions swell? (It’s like the delight of that kid looking at the crabs.) That’s what I was feeling, listening to this podcast, how the salmon and wolves and bears and trees and streams all worked together to create and sustain a healthy environment, and how the Tlingit recognized these connections, and incorporated that wisdom into their own practices, for the benefit of all, for the benefit of creation.
It’s humans “joining with all nature in manifold witness to God's great faithfulness, mercy, and love…”
When we work with creation like this, we are able to maintain a world filled with green, healthy pastures, and clear, gently-flowing, life-giving waters.
Unfortunately, that wisdom and beauty are lost on a great many people today. We have not honored the balance that exists, and must be maintained, between humans, plants, and animals, and the earth. We have taken for granted the pastures and the streams; we’ve tried to profit off of them, exploiting natural resources for our own selfish gain; and, as a result, all of creation is suffering.
Everything we have comes from the earth. These wooden pews and wooden pulpit were once part of a forest of trees. I, for one, am grateful for these pews, this pulpit, this building with these magnificent wooden beams and trusses…I’m not saying we shouldn’t ever use natural resources like wood…
But I once heard someone say that if you’re going to cut down a tree, what you use that tree for should be just as magnificent as the tree itself.
That’s a hard thing to achieve, for what could be more magnificent than a tree? Scientists don’t even understand all the mysteries and wonders of a tree or a forest, how trees communicate with each other, how parent trees nurture younger offspring, how trees work together in masting their fruit, all of them holding back on fruit or nut production for a year or several years, then all, somehow, agreeing that this is the year that they will all produce an abundance of fruit…how trees create oxygen, and clean the water, and prevent floods, and so much more…
I don’t know that we can ever produce anything as magnificent as that.
But we can take a moment to be grateful for the wood, the paper, the oxygen, the clean water, and for everything else we get from trees.
Is it any wonder that trees feature prominently in several scripture passages, like the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil in the garden of Eden; or the sacred oaks at Mamre; or the mighty Cedars of Lebanon…
We can be grateful, and not take such things for granted; and in that gratitude, we can vow to not waste, to not use more than we need, and to honor the incredible wonder and glory of God’s creation.
And this is true not only for trees, but for everything else; every precious resource of God’s creation.
Unfortunately, the wisdom of indigenous peoples like the Tlingit is all but lost today. In our shortsightedness, we take what we want, what can bring us the most profit, today, without concerning ourselves about what will be left for future generations. Our practices do not honor creation; our way of living does not honor the Creator.
➤But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my study of scripture, it’s that God is always calling us to a new way. A “right path,” to use the language of Psalm 23. The opportunity is always present to break free from the cycle of overconsumption, exploitation, and destruction.
I took this picture at our southern California Disciples camp some years ago… At church camp, youth and adults learn to break free from destructive ways of living, and experience that new, right way… At Camp Walter Scott in particular, Creation Care is an important part of what goes on there.
And we learn about following that new, right path here at church, as well… In our Wednesday small group, we recently read about Abraham and Moses, who both broke from the destructive systemic patterns of their day to follow a right path, a new way.
It’s the way envisioned by Isaiah: a way of cooperation among all creatures. The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.
…They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.
It’s the way of living Jesus calls us to; that radical new way of living based on love, a way of living exemplified with compassion for all people and all of creation.
Because if we exploit, destroy, or use up creation for our own selfish gain, that hurts other people. And love does no harm to a fellow human being.
That’s why Isaiah pronounces doom on those who join house to house, who add field to field, until there is room for no one but you…
And it’s why Ezekiel says: “Is it not enough for you to feed on the good pasture, but you must tread down with your feet the rest of your pasture? When you drink of clear water, must you foul the rest with your feet? And must my sheep eat what you have trodden with your feet, and drink what you have fouled with your feet?”
Green pastures and clean, gently flowing streams of water are issues of justice, issues that God calls us to take seriously and care about very much.
The good news is that we have all the technology we need, we have the ability. There are plenty of resources for all, if we care for them and are wise about their use.
However, we are stuck in a scarcity mindset when it comes to creation. We think there won’t be enough, that there isn’t enough, so we have to accumulate more than we need before it all runs out.
But if we understand that our God is a God of abundance, and that if we take just what we need, then we’ll never run out.
It’s like the manna in the wilderness—God told Moses to have the people gather just enough for each day. If they gathered more than they needed, the extra that they gathered would spoil. But if they took just what they needed, they would never run out.
It’s also like how the sap in the maple trees started to run at the end of winter, when all other food sources have been depleted. For squirrels, when their cache of nuts is depleted, they can go up a maple tree, gnaw on a branch, and get enough nourishment from the now-flowing sap to last until other forms of food start appearing.
Some indigenous people also relied on the maple trees to provide for them when all other food sources were gone, until spring brought the return of God’s abundance. In this way, nature always provides for us, but we have to honor nature in return.
We have all the abundance we need. We just need to tap into that holy wisdom about how to use it.
And it begins with awe and wonder. That’s why I get so happy when someone takes delight in the moon passing in front of the sun, or in seeing the colors of the flowers and blossoms change from day to day, or how a crab moves across the rock, or how a thunderstorm moves across the prairie, or really, anything else that captures your attention and makes you marvel at the magnificence of God’s creation.
Take some time to notice each little flower that opens, each little bird that sings; their glowing colors, their tiny wings; all things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small, all things wise and wonderful; in love, God made them all.
