Universal Communion
In Marilynne Robinson's novel, Gilead, an elderly clergyman writes to his much younger son, "This is an interesting planet. It deserves all the attention you can give it." I was reminded of these two short sentences yesterday, on Earth Day. As mentioned in a recent newsletter, I've been rereading Pope Francis' encyclical letter, Laudato Si' over the past few months. One of the themes he returns to is how our contemporary lifestyle, particularly for those of us in the industrialized West, detaches us from the rhythm of creation. "Human beings and material objects," writes Francis, "no longer extend a friendly hand to one another; the relationship has become confrontational." This antagonist stance, aided by what the pope calls our "technocratic paradigm" distances us from nature; it works against our attentiveness.
When we think about attending to creation, we are likely to first consider the plants and animals with whom we share our communities. Driving through Chicago congestion this week, I was startled to watch a squirrel treat an electrical line as a convenient overpass. Last year I watched a coyote explore the park across the street from our church office. Depending on where you live, your experiences with nature might be a bit more... natural.
Of course, we are a part of nature too. We belong, in Francis' words, to the "universal communion" through which we "are linked by unseen bonds and together form a kind of universal family." If there is only one Creator, than we must take our place among the rest of God's creatures. And the same forces which work against us seeing the plants and animals around us also warp how we see one another. What Francis writes about the manipulative power of the technocratic paradigm is true for how it is applied against human and non-human creation. He writes that this "paradigm exalts the concept of a subject who, using logical and rational procedures, progressively approaches and gains control over an external object."
It is the desire for control over nature which keeps us from actually seeing nature and receiving it as a gift from God. How many plants which are native to your community can you identify? What are the migratory patterns of the birds and insects around your home? Does how you think about weather patterns include the impact on local agriculture, the water table, and how many mosquitos will be buzzing around your cookout this summer? Our inability to see nature and our place in it stems from a formation within a society which has been hell-bent on controlling creation for hundreds of years.
What we cannot see, we cannot name. And what we cannot name, we cannot love. So our engagement with nature is reduced to consumption and exploitation.
Because human beings are inter-related with the rest of God's creation, we might expect this malignant neglect to extend to one another. Theologian Delores S. Williams writes that there is a "relationship between the defilement of earth's body, and the devilment of black women's bodies." The extractive ends of the technocratic paradigm are applied to lands and bodies and it is certain bodies - racialized as commodities in a manner similar to how some places are reduced to resources - which are made most vulnerable. It's not that we face "two separate crises," notes Francis, "one environmental and the other social, but rather with one complex crisis which is both social and environmental. Strategies for a solution demand an integrated approach to combating poverty, restoring dignity to the excluded, and at the same time protecting nature."
I write a lot about racial justice as an essential part of discipleship to Jesus. In fact, it's likely why you subscribe to these occasional newsletters! But for some time I've believed that we can't really imagine a way beyond white supremacy without understanding our interdependence with the rest of God's creation, human and non-human alike. Pope Francis is right: what is required in these days of racial and environmental crises is an integrated approach. I'm going to be spending more time learning and writing about that sort of integrated vision and I hope you'll stick around for the conversation.
(Photo credit: Pixabay.)
Next month will mark two years since the publication of Rediscipling the White Church. To celebrate, I've lined up some really thoughtful friends for a series of live video conversations during May. Stay tuned for details!