Fascinating study here that moves beyond the normal mode of similar studies that focus on a fixed point in time (say mid-Summer) and look at long term data across a wider region. This is important work for our future.
A new study by Yale School of the Environment researchers found that communities of color in the U.S. face more heat exposure and have fewer cooling options than predominantly white communities and those disparities are increasing.
Beautiful meditation here for this Advent season…
“What is life? God’s being is my life.” Meister Eckhart
Meister Eckhart illustrates the height of western non-dualism. This is why he is largely impossible to understand with our usual dualistic mind. When Eckhart says, “Let us pray to God that we may be free of God,” our logical mind would see this as nonsense! It takes unitive consciousness to discover what Eckhart means. There is no concept of God that can contain God. Your present notion of God is never God. As Augustine said, “If you comprehend it, it is not God.” We can only come to know God as we let go of our ideas about God, and what is not God, is slowly stripped away.
Meister Eckhart, Part II: The Reality of Godliness — Center for Action and Contemplation
In reviewing Google’s 2024 Environmental Report, it’s hard not to be impressed by the sleek presentation, optimistic targets, and promises of a more sustainable future. But as someone who approaches environmental issues through the lenses of ecology, spirituality, and activism (and who respects the wisdom held by Indigenous communitie), we must ask ourselves: Is this report truly a step forward, or is it a carefully curated narrative that still falls short of meaningful transformation?
Below are some reflections and critiques that emerged as I dug deeper into Google’s latest sustainability claims. My hope is that these points inspire more honest conversations about corporate environmental responsibility, and encourage Google to become a force for genuine, not just performative, change. Google notes that this is the 10th year of their reporting, and while laudible, a decade is a long time to have not made much progress in the areas below.
1. More than a Numbers Game: Transparency and Context
Google’s report is filled with metrics: carbon offsets, renewable energy installations, and progress toward “24/7 carbon-free” ambitions. On the surface, this data sounds promising. Yet the numbers often come without the context that would allow us to evaluate their true impact. We need to know how these figures are changing over time, where and why setbacks occur, and how absolute emissions reductions are measured beyond short-term offsets. Without clear year-over-year comparisons, transparency in methodologies, and explanations for where goals haven’t been met, these metrics risk feeling more like strategic PR rather than a window into substantive progress.
2. A Holistic Ecological View—Not Just Carbon
In the ecological world, everything is interconnected—water usage, land stewardship, biodiversity, soil health, and species protection are all part of the larger puzzle. Too often, corporate sustainability efforts narrow their focus to carbon emissions. While that’s a crucial piece, it’s not the full story. The development of data centers, the sourcing of rare earth minerals for hardware, the water required for cooling, and the potential displacement of local communities or wildlife—these all have tangible ecological effects. Google’s report would be more authentic if it acknowledged these complexities. It’s not enough to claim net-zero this or carbon-free that or water-usage here; we need to know how their operations affect entire ecosystems and the countless living beings (human and non-human) who share those habitats.
3. Integrating Indigenous Knowledge and Perspectives
For millennia, Indigenous communities have developed rich, place-based knowledge systems that guide sustainable stewardship of land and resources. Their approaches aren’t just about preserving nature for posterity; they recognize the sacred interdependence of human life and the Earth. Indigenous environmental philosophies emphasize reciprocity, relational accountability, and long-term thinking—values that our high-tech era desperately needs. Yet, Google’s report barely touches on how local knowledge systems or Indigenous voices factor into its environmental strategies. True environmental leadership means not only incorporating Indigenous perspectives but also creating platforms where those communities can shape corporate policies and decision-making. A genuine partnership with Indigenous peoples would push beyond mere consultation toward co-creation of sustainability solutions.
4. The Moral and Spiritual Dimension of Environmental Care
Sustainability isn’t just a business metric; it’s a moral imperative. Many faith traditions and spiritual frameworks teach that the Earth is not merely a resource to be exploited, but a sacred gift that we are entrusted to protect. When companies like Google talk about sustainability without acknowledging the deeper moral currents—respect for Creation, the call to love our neighbors (human and nonhuman), and the need to protect the vulnerable—they risk missing the heart of the matter. Earth care is not just about polished reports; it’s a sacred calling. If Google truly wants to lead, it must recognize and uphold this responsibility as part of its corporate identity.
5. Justice, Equity, and Community Engagement
Climate change is not an equal-opportunity crisis—frontline communities, often Indigenous peoples and people of color, bear a disproportionate burden of environmental harm. There’s a human face to pollution, species loss, and extraction, and companies have a moral duty to see it. Yet the report often focuses inward—on Google’s own campuses, energy grids, and supply chains—without sufficiently addressing how it will engage with and support communities directly affected by its operations. Where is the acknowledgment of environmental justice? Where are the stories of local partnerships, community-based mitigation plans, or compensation for environmental damage? Until these voices and their realities are meaningfully included, sustainability efforts risk becoming top-down strategies instead of inclusive, equitable solutions.
6. From Incremental to Transformative Change
Corporate environmental narratives often hinge on incremental progress: small steps toward greener operations, a handful of offset projects, a few solar panels here and there. But a company with Google’s resources could champion systemic changes that transcend the status quo. It could lead research in scalable regenerative practices, revolutionize supply chains to eliminate environmental harm, or fund open-access environmental science tools that empower others. By fully embracing the call for systemic transformation, Google could serve as a beacon of hope, paving the way for a truly sustainable economy that values regeneration over extraction, and community well-being over profit margins.
Envisioning a More Genuine Path Forward
Critiquing a sustainability report may seem like a small gesture, but honest criticism matters. It’s a reminder that we must look beyond the corporate gloss to see the true health of our planet—and to hold powerful entities accountable. The world needs leaders who understand that ecological well-being, moral responsibility, Indigenous wisdom, and social justice are interwoven strands of the same tapestry.
Google’s 2024 Environmental Report certainly isn’t the worst corporate sustainability document out there in the tech space. But given the company’s global influence, wealth, and technological prowess, “not the worst” isn’t nearly good enough. We deserve, and the Earth demands, better. True environmental leadership would blend hard data with moral courage, incorporate ancestral wisdom, support vulnerable communities, and invest in regenerative systems that honor both people and the planet. That’s the vision we need, and it’s the vision that a company like Google could help realize, if it dared to do more than just follow the colonialist corporate script.
We Christians are in the season of chopping down fir trees and bringing them into our homes so that we can adorn them with ornaments, sentiments, and lights (our family prefers color lights, but my beloved Mom prefers white lights).
In the midst of that, here’s a beautiful piece about the role that our plant partners can play in our own mindsets as we continue to recover from Hurricane Helene here in the Upstate of SC and in Western NC.
Conservation Corner: In times of tumult, plant trees to renew hope (Spartanburg Herald-Journal):
Would you believe me if I told you that even before the recent tropical storm damage, Charlotte and Atlanta maintain a higher tree canopy percentage than Spartanburg and Greenville?
Planting trees is a belief in, and a faith act for a better future. One does not plant a tree believing hope is lost for the next generation. Since that first Arbor Day, countless trees have been planted by millions of students, teaching the eternal importance of this tradition.
We face a troubled relationship with the Creation. From plastics to pollution to the impacts on our climate, it cannot be argued that we live harmoniously with nature. The very concept of living harmoniously in an ecological system stands in direct conflict with our lived experience of modern conviences and technology. This troubled relationship stems not only from industrial practices or consumption patterns but from a fundamental disconnect in how we perceive and relate to the natural world. The framework of phenomenology, the philosophical study of conscious experience, offers a powerful framework for reimagining this relationship and cultivating an “ecological consciousness” (Merleau-Ponty 1968, 123).
The Embodied Experience of Nature
At the heart of this approach lies Maurice Merleau-Ponty’s concept of embodied consciousness. Our bodies are not separate from the environment but are deeply enmeshed within it. When we walk barefoot through a forest, the sensation of soil beneath our feet, the scent of pine needles, and the filtered sunlight through the leaves are not merely external stimuli—they are part of our lived experience. This embodied understanding challenges the traditional Western view of nature as something “out there” to be observed, analyzed, and controlled. Instead, it redefines our connection to nature as one of reciprocity and participation (Merleau-Ponty 1962, 239).
Living Ecological Consciousness
The Gullah-Geechee communities of the southeastern United States provide a compelling example of this phenomenological approach in practice. Their traditional ecological knowledge demonstrates a lived understanding of environmental interconnectedness (Goodwine 1998, 31). The Gullah people’s relationship with coastal landscapes, from their sustainable fishing practices to their agricultural methods, reflects a deep awareness of natural cycles and an embodied connection to the land. Their traditional practices of root medicine, crop rotation, and seasonal harvesting exemplify a way of knowing that transcends the subject-object divide common in Western thought (Goodwine 1998, 42).
From Theory to Practice
This phenomenological perspective transforms how we might approach environmental stewardship. Instead of seeing trees merely as carbon sinks or resources to be extracted, we begin to experience them as living presences with which we share our world. This shift in consciousness carries practical implications for conservation efforts and environmental policy (Abram 2011, 45).
Consider how Gullah communities design and maintain their living spaces. Gardens aren’t merely decorative or utilitarian—they’re spaces of cultural memory and ecological relationship. Traditional Gullah yard designs incorporate both practical and spiritual elements, creating spaces that nurture both human and non-human life. These practices offer valuable insights for modern urban planning and conservation efforts, serving as examples of how to design public spaces that foster ecological awareness and community cohesion (Goodwine 1998, 57).
Toward an Ecological Future
The development of ecological consciousness requires moving beyond the extractive mindset that sees nature as a mere resource to be managed. By recognizing our fundamental interconnection with the natural world, we open possibilities for more sustainable and harmonious ways of living (Nishida 1990, 63). The Gullah example shows us that this isn’t merely theoretical—it’s a practical, lived reality that can inform everything from personal choices to community environmental initiatives.
Through this phenomenological approach to ecology, we can work toward a cultural transformation that emphasizes interconnectedness and care over domination and extraction. The path forward lies not in abstract environmental policies alone, but in rekindling our embodied relationship with the natural world. Ultimately, ecological consciousness means seeing ourselves as part of the web of life, capable of empathy not only toward our fellow humans but toward all forms of existence (Merleau-Ponty 1968, 149).
References (if you’d like to do some more reading on the subject!):
Abram, David. Becoming Animal: An Earthly Cosmology. New York: Pantheon Books, 2011.
Goodwine, Marquetta L. The Legacy of Ibo Landing: Gullah Roots of African American Culture. Atlanta: Clarity Press, 1998.
Merleau-Ponty, Maurice. Phenomenology of Perception. Translated by Colin Smith. London: Routledge, 1962.
Merleau-Ponty, Maurice. The Visible and the Invisible. Edited by Claude Lefort, translated by Alphonso Lingis. Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1968.
Nishida, Kitaro. An Inquiry into the Good. Translated by Masao Abe and Christopher Ives. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990.
I have my own spin on this that I’ve made for years, but the NY Times version isn’t too far off (I like the idea of creating a “cranberry mayo” by combining the ubiquitous cranberry sauce with a bit of mayonnaise!)…
The sandwich you make with all the prized leftovers the day after Thanksgiving might be even better than the main event. Assembling this leftover Thanksgiving sandwich is easy, but the details matter. The white and dark turkey meat each get special love and attention: The breast is warmed in butter, while the dark meat is shredded, then warmed in gravy. This club ditches the usual third slice of bread for a slab of crisp, fried stuffing instead. When heating the stuffing, make sure your pan is good and hot so the stuffing fries up fast without falling apart in the skillet. A generous swipe of cranberry mayo brings the whole thing together.
Source: Best Thanksgiving Leftovers Sandwich Recipe (gift article)
My PhD studies at the California Institute of Integral Studies this fall as well as working with incredible scholars in the field of Ecology and Religion have deepened my understanding of ecological issues and reinforced my belief that the Church must be at the forefront of ecological discussions and action in their ministries and community roles. My field of Ecology and Religion is, of course, concerned with processes and theories around this push, but I often hear church leaders confused about where to start with real and actualized implementation of emphasis or programs around ecological concerns or issues.
Connected with that is a real blurring of understanding about the terms “environmental” and “ecological” because of the fairly newness of “Ecology and Religion” as a field of study and practice as well as the fact that most seminaries don’t require much in the way of coursework around ecological issues (though that is changing across the North and South America, Africa, Asia, and Europe (I’m not aware of programs in Australia but I’m sure they exist).
First, For those seeking answers on how to include ecological concerns or awareness into ministries, I highly recommend picking up a copy of John Grim and Mary Evelyn Tucker’s important work “Ecology and Religion.” Grim and Tucker were instrumental in establishing the field of Ecology and Religion with a series of conferences at Harvard in the 1990s, followed by the establishment of Yale’s Forum on Religion and Ecology (sadly, it was instituted a few years after I graduated there in 2002 but I was able to take several ethics courses and classes on phenomenological philosophical considerations that grew this spark of passion).
“Amid the challenges of modernity and the growing environmental crises, the ecological dimensions of religions are becoming clearer. Scientists and policymakers, along with religious practitioners and scholars, recognize that religions have shaped views of nature for millennia. Simultaneously, religions themselves have been formed by their interactions with landscapes and the life therein. This is what we will explore as religious ecologies (Tucker and Grim 2014, 1–2).”
By embracing ecological considerations, churches can fulfill their calling to be caretakers of God’s creation, promoting a message of hope and restoration in a world that desperately needs it.
Churches have a unique position of influence and can lead by example in the following ways:
Education and Awareness: Hosting seminars and Bible studies on environmental stewardship can enlighten congregations about the spiritual imperative to care for creation.
Sustainable Practices: Simple changes like adopting energy-efficient systems, reducing waste, and supporting sustainable agriculture can make a significant impact.
Community Engagement: Collaborating with local environmental groups for clean-up drives or tree-planting events fosters community spirit and environmental responsibility.
Advocacy: Churches can use their voices to support policies that protect the environment, emphasizing that ecological care is a matter of faith and moral duty.
This is a rapidly developing and fascinating field of integrated studies and methodologies. Churches and church leaders would be wise to explore ecological (and decolonial) methodologies of worship and to become community examples. Wide-ranging concern in the wake of Hurricane Helene, heat outbreaks, unusual weather patterns, and an awakening of ecological consciousness in the mainstream culture despite political divides are at the forefront of many peoples’ minds these days as they contemplate their faiths and spiritualities.
Law enforcement and the military have had this capability for a while via Clearview, but it’s (also) scary to see it being implemented outside of those domains…
Someone Put Facial Recognition Tech onto Meta’s Smart Glasses to Instantly Dox Strangers:
A pair of students at Harvard have built what big tech companies refused to release publicly due to the overwhelming risks and danger involved: smart glasses with facial recognition technology that automatically looks up someone’s face and identifies them. The students have gone a step further too. Their customized glasses also pull other information about their subject from around the web, including their home address, phone number, and family members.
The record-breaking wildfires and persistent droughts in Brazil are urgent reminders of our need to rethink how we relate to the natural world. These ecological crises highlight the consequences of viewing nature merely as a resource for human use, rather than as a dynamic participant in a sacred web of life. The concept of ecological intentionality calls us to recognize the agency of non-human elements—like forests, rivers, and climate patterns—and to foster a more intentional relationship with our ecosystems.
From a biblical perspective, the notion of ecological intentionality aligns closely with scriptures that emphasize humanity’s role as caretakers of creation. In Psalm 24:1, we read, “The Earth is the Lord’s and everything in it,” suggesting that our stewardship is meant to be characterized by respect and reverence, not domination. Likewise, Genesis’ account of Noah’s Ark reflects God’s concern for the preservation of all species, underscoring biodiversity as a divine priority. The fires and droughts in Brazil challenge us to reexamine our faithfulness to this sacred duty.
Isaiah 24:4-5 poignantly describes a land that “mourns and withers…because they have broken the everlasting covenant,” reminding us that our ecological crises are, at their core, spiritual crises. The Earth, groaning in Romans 8:22, is a plea for healing and renewal—a call for humanity to restore right relationships with creation. Brazil’s environmental disasters amplify these biblical calls to action, pushing us to consider how our theology can contribute to ecological reconciliation.
Indigenous perspectives, like those of Ailton Krenak, a prominent indigenous leader and thinker from Brazil, provide critical insights into this conversation. In his work “Ideas to Postpone the End of the World,” Krenak advocates for viewing the Earth not as a resource to exploit but as a living entity with which we are deeply interconnected. He critiques the dominant worldview that separates humanity from nature and calls for a return to a spiritual relationship that honors the Earth’s inherent value and vitality.
Krenak’s perspectives complement the biblical teachings of stewardship and care, offering a vision of ecological intentionality that is inclusive of diverse spiritual understandings. His call to recognize the sacred interdependence of all life resonates deeply with the idea that we must foster a participatory awareness, where both human and non-human elements are seen as co-creators in the ongoing story of creation.
Humans only talk about human rights, and environmental law is anthropocentric, it has no interest in whether the forest will die, the river will be polluted.
– Ailton Krenak
Ecological intentionality challenges us not only to reflect but to act. We are called to cultivate practices that acknowledge our profound interdependence with the natural world, such as supporting sustainable policies, engaging in mindful consumption, and embracing indigenous stewardship methods. Beyond practical actions, we must cultivate spiritual disciplines that honor this interconnectedness—whether through prayer, community worship that integrates environmental concerns, or personal practices that express gratitude for creation.
Colonial thinking is powerful because it uses instruments such as economics, which globally institutes the possession of things and land. It is associated with the appropriation of technologies that accelerate extractivism in ecosystems, oceans, mountains and deserts
– Ailton Krenak
The wildfires and droughts in Brazil are a clarion call for deeper spiritual and theological engagement with our ecological reality. By integrating biblical insights with indigenous wisdom, like that of Ailton Krenak, we can move toward a more holistic understanding of our role in the divine community of life. Ecological intentionality invites us to reimagine our relationship with creation, recognizing that the health of our spirits is inseparably linked to the health of the Earth.
May we heed this call with urgency, wisdom, and humility, living in ways that honor all that God has made, and recognizing that we are not separate from, but deeply connected to, the entire web of life.
In the vibrant tapestry of life on Earth, we humans often see ourselves as the central thread… the primary actors in a grand narrative of progress, conflict, and survival. Yet, this perspective risks blinding us to the complex and interwoven intelligences that animate the non-human world. As I delve deeper into the concept of ecological intentionality, I find myself more attuned to the subtle, often overlooked ways in which non-human intelligences… from trees and fungi to rivers and mountains… participate in the unfolding story of our planet.
Ecological Intentionality: Beyond Human Consciousness
At its core, ecological intentionality challenges the anthropocentric view that intentionality… the capacity to have thoughts, desires, or purposes directed toward something… is the exclusive domain of human beings. Traditional phenomenology has long centered on human consciousness and its relationship to the world, but what if we extend the idea of intentionality beyond human minds? What if we imagine a world where other forms of life, and even so-called “inanimate” entities, possess their own kind of intentionality… their own ways of interacting with, responding to, and even shaping their environments?
The Bible offers insights into this broader understanding. In Psalm 96:12, we read, “Let the field exult, and everything in it! Then shall all the trees of the forest sing for joy.” This verse suggests that nature itself is alive with praise and has its own way of celebrating the divine, hinting at a form of intentionality that is beyond human comprehension.
Non-Human Intelligences: Trees, Fungi, and More
Consider the intelligence of a tree. Science increasingly reveals how trees communicate through vast underground networks of fungi, sharing nutrients, warning each other of danger, and even “nurturing” their offspring or neighbors in times of stress. This “Wood Wide Web” of fungal networks suggests a form of collective intentionality… a communal way of being that is responsive and adaptive to the needs of the forest as a whole. The trees do not act in isolation; they are part of an intricate community, continuously engaged in a dance of mutual support, competition, and survival.
In the Old Testament, we see a similar recognition of trees as participants in God’s creation. In Isaiah 55:12, it is written, “For you shall go out in joy and be led back in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.” Here, the trees are portrayed as beings with their own expression, actively engaging with the divine presence.
Then there are fungi themselves… the ancient, often unseen architects of life. Fungi have existed for over a billion years, long before the first plants emerged on land, and their networks are vast, complex, and purpose-driven. Mycorrhizal fungi form symbiotic relationships with plants, providing essential nutrients in exchange for sugars. This exchange isn’t a simple transaction but rather an ongoing negotiation that changes with the environment, the needs of the plants, and even the health of the entire ecosystem. Here, we see another form of non-human intelligence… an intelligence that is relational, dynamic, and deeply embedded in the fabric of life.
The River’s Mind: Thinking with the Flow
Even rivers can be seen as possessing a form of intentionality. Indigenous cultures around the world have long recognized rivers as sentient beings… entities with purpose, memory, and agency. In a phenomenological sense, a river shapes its surroundings, carves valleys, creates fertile plains, and sustains countless forms of life. Its movements are not random; they are responsive to the lay of the land, the seasonal rhythms, and the larger climate patterns. To think with the river is to understand its agency in shaping the landscape and the ecosystems that depend on it. A river “knows” how to flow, how to adapt to obstacles, and how to find its way to the sea.
The Bible also reflects on the role of water in the natural world as an agent of God’s purpose. In Job 38:25-27, God speaks of His creation, saying, “Who has cut a channel for the torrents of rain, and a way for the thunderbolt, to bring rain on a land where no one lives, on the desert, which is empty of human life, to satisfy the waste and desolate land, and to make the ground put forth grass?” This verse portrays water as having a role in creation that extends beyond human utility… it has a purpose and a life-giving role that is part of a larger divine intention.
A New Perspective: Participatory Awareness
Ecological intentionality invites us to shift from a mindset of domination and control to one of participatory awareness. It encourages us to see ourselves not as masters of nature but as participants in a vast, interconnected web of life, where each entity… human, animal, plant, or mineral… has its own form of agency and intelligence. This perspective has profound implications for how we approach environmental stewardship, conservation, and sustainability. Instead of seeing nature as a resource to be managed or exploited, we begin to recognize it as a community of intelligent beings with whom we share our lives.
The New Testament also echoes this view of interconnectedness. In Romans 8:19-21, Paul writes, “For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” Here, creation is portrayed as having its own yearning, its own purpose that is intertwined with the redemption of humanity.
Re-Envisioning Our Relationships with the Non-Human World
By embracing ecological intentionality, we start to ask different questions… How do we listen to the voices of the non-human intelligences around us? How do we learn from their wisdom, their ways of being, and their modes of communication? How do we honor their agency and recognize their intrinsic value, not just for what they provide to us, but for their own sake?
These questions are not just theoretical; they are urgently practical. In a world facing unprecedented ecological crises, from climate change to species loss, we need to develop a deeper, more respectful relationship with the non-human world. We need to recognize that our survival is intricately linked to the survival of other forms of life and that their intelligences… their ways of knowing and being… have much to teach us about resilience, adaptability, and sustainability.
Toward a More Inclusive Understanding of Intelligence
Ecological intentionality is more than a philosophical concept… it is a call to action. It urges us to expand our understanding of intelligence to include the vast, diverse, and often mysterious intelligences of the non-human world. It challenges us to see the world not as a backdrop to our human drama but as a vibrant, living community in which we are but one member among many.
By opening ourselves to the possibility of non-human intentionalities, we may discover new ways of thinking, new ways of being, and new ways of living in harmony with the world around us. And in doing so, we may just find the wisdom we need to navigate the uncertain waters of the Anthropocene and beyond.
As I continue to reflect on “Ecological Intentionality,” I find myself drawn to the rich ecological tapestry of the Carolinas, a landscape filled with beauty, complexity, and deep spiritual significance. To fully understand the importance of this region, we must recognize that the land itself is not just a passive backdrop to our lives but an active participant in our shared journey. This means intentionally engaging with the natural world, seeing it anew, and honoring it as a sacred part of our story.
Throughout history, poets, thinkers, and prophets have called us to this deeper awareness, reminding us of our interconnectedness with all creation. As Thomas Berry, a native of North Carolina and a leading voice in ecological spirituality, once said, “The universe is a communion of subjects, not a collection of objects.” Berry’s words invite us to see the natural world of the Carolinas not as a set of resources to be used but as a community to which we belong and with which we are in constant relationship.
The Carolinas: A Land of Beauty and Non-Human Purpose
The Carolinas are blessed with an extraordinary diversity of landscapes — from the rolling Blue Ridge Mountains to the Piedmont’s ancient forests and the Lowcountry’s vibrant wetlands. Each place carries its ecological significance, providing habitat for countless species, filtering our water, and regulating our climate. Yet, as Wendell Berry reminds us, “The earth is what we all have in common.” Our connection to this land is not just practical; it is profoundly spiritual.
Reflecting on the beauty and purpose of the Carolinas, I am reminded of the words of the Psalmist: “The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it, the world, and those who live in it” (Psalm 24:1, NRSV). This verse calls us to see the natural world not merely as something to be used but as a sacred trust that we are called to steward with care and humility.
Wisdom from Historical Voices
Thomas Berry believed that our ecological crisis is fundamentally spiritual, rooted in a loss of connection to the sacredness of the Earth. He urged us to develop a new story that recognizes our deep interdependence with all forms of life. “The human venture,” he wrote, “depends absolutely on this quality of awe and reverence and joy in the Earth and all that lives and grows upon the Earth.” Berry’s words resonate strongly in the Carolinas, where the land and water sing with life and possibility, calling us to engage more deeply and intentionally with the natural world.
Henry David Thoreau, another great naturalist, famously said, “Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.” For Thoreau, nature was not separate from the divine. Still, an expression of it, a sentiment that is echoed in the landscapes of the Carolinas, where every walk through a forest or along a river offers a chance to encounter the sacred. His words challenge us to open our eyes and hearts to the beauty around us, to see the divine in the natural world, and to embrace our role as caretakers of this sacred earth.
Biblical Foundations for Ecological Intentionality
The Bible also provides a rich foundation for this perspective. In Genesis, we are told, “The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it” (Genesis 2:15, NRSV). This passage reminds us that our fundamental role is to care for the earth, a calling that remains as relevant today in the Carolinas as it was in the ancient world.
The prophet Isaiah speaks to the sacredness of the natural world, saying, “For you shall go out in joy, and be led back in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands” (Isaiah 55:12, NRSV). This verse beautifully captures the idea that creation itself rejoices in its existence, and we, too, are called to celebrate and protect this divine harmony.
A Call to Recognize the Ecological Significance of the Carolinas
Ecological Intentionality is about embracing this wisdom — the wisdom of poets, prophets, and thinkers like Thomas Berry who have seen the world with clearer eyes and a deeper sense of connection. It calls us to recognize that the landscapes of the Carolinas are not just beautiful scenes but vital parts of a larger ecological and spiritual web. It urges us to see the rivers, forests, and coastlines as expressions of God’s handiwork, deserving of our respect and care.
As we reflect on our place in this beautiful and fragile ecosystem, let us remember Berry’s words: “The Great Work is not primarily a human work. It is Earth’s work. We are only a small part of a vast cosmic adventure.” In this spirit, let us commit ourselves to protecting the sacred lands of the Carolinas, living in harmony with creation, and passing on this wisdom to future generations.
Embracing a New Way Forward
In my work at CIIS and my ministry, I am constantly exploring how we can cultivate this intentional relationship with the earth. It begins with awareness — seeing the divine in the details of our environment — and moves into action, where we take steps, however small, to protect and honor the natural world. By embracing Ecological Intentionality, we affirm our commitment to living in harmony with creation, recognizing that our fate is intimately tied to the fate of the lands we are fortunate to inhabit.
Let’s continue to find new ways to love, learn from, and care for this beautiful place we call home.
As I continue my PhD studies in Ecology, Spirituality, and Religion at the California Institute of Integral Studies (CIIS), I find myself reflecting on what it means to live intentionally with the natural world — especially in a place like South Carolina, where the landscapes and ecosystems are so deeply intertwined with our history and identity. After 15 years of teaching in the Carolinas, and now in a new chapter focused on ministry, writing, and research, I’m more convinced than ever that we need a fresh perspective to navigate our relationship with the environment. One concept that has emerged as particularly compelling for me is what I’m calling “Ecological Intentionality.”
What is Ecological Intentionality?
Ecological Intentionality is about consciously engaging with the natural world in a way that acknowledges its inherent value, complexity, and spiritual significance. It’s not just about recognizing the environment as a resource to be managed, but rather seeing it as a dynamic partner in our shared existence. This idea grows out of my work in phenomenology — the study of how we experience and perceive the world — and challenges us to think beyond the human-centered perspectives that often dominate our thinking about ecology.
In South Carolina, where the coastlines, forests, rivers, and wetlands all hold rich stories and deep cultural significance, Ecological Intentionality takes on a special meaning. It calls us to awaken to the ways in which our lives are entangled with the land and to the spiritual lessons that our environment offers if we choose to listen. The ancient oaks in the Lowcountry, the flowing waters of the Congaree, and even the changing seasons across the Piedmont remind us of the intricate connections between all living things.
Ecological Intentionality in Faith Communities
In my ministry in the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship, I’ve witnessed how faith communities can play a transformative role in rethinking our relationship with the environment. We live in a time when environmental crises are both immediate and overwhelming — from the hurricanes that batter our coastlines to the slower, less visible changes like the warming of our waters and the loss of biodiversity in our forests.
Ecological Intentionality offers a new lens through which faith communities can approach these challenges. It moves beyond the idea of stewardship as mere responsibility and invites us to see our relationship with the Earth as a profound spiritual practice. It’s about cultivating a deeper awareness of the sacredness of all creation and recognizing our interconnectedness with every part of it—not just as caretakers but as co-inhabitants of a shared space.
Bringing Phenomenology into Ecological Conversations
This concept also intersects with my studies at CIIS, where I am exploring how phenomenological approaches can inform contemporary theological understandings of ecology. Phenomenology, mainly as developed by thinkers like Edmund Husserl, emphasizes the importance of direct experience and consciousness in shaping how we perceive the world. It suggests that by intentionally focusing on our lived experiences with the natural world — by noticing the texture of the soil, the sound of the wind through the trees, the way light filters through a canopy — we can come to a more profound understanding of our place within it.
This approach is particularly relevant in South Carolina. Our state’s landscapes have been shaped by centuries of human interaction, from the agricultural practices of the Indigenous peoples and enslaved Africans who cultivated the rice fields of the Lowcountry to the modern-day tensions between development and conservation. Ecological Intentionality encourages us to engage these histories thoughtfully and to seek out the spiritual lessons that can be found in our everyday interactions with the environment.
A Call to Action for South Carolinians
While I may no longer be teaching in a traditional classroom, I still see education as a vital tool for awakening ecological awareness. Whether through sermons, workshops, or community dialogues, I want to encourage others to embrace Ecological Intentionality in their own lives. This concept is not just for academics or environmentalists; it’s for anyone who feels called to reconnect with the Earth meaningfully.
South Carolina, with its unique blend of natural beauty, history, and cultural diversity, offers a fertile ground for exploring these ideas. I believe we have an opportunity to lead the way in creating new models of community and spiritual life that honor the Earth as an integral part of our shared story. By adopting an intentional approach to how we live with our surroundings, we can begin to build a more just, sustainable, and spiritually enriched future for all.
Lots to ponder here about human consciousness, human angst, and the coming torrent of AI bots fueled by corporate profit at the expense of polluting the digital ecology we’ve built over the last few decades.
It is by no means currently pristine, but pollution always comes with capitalist initiatives, and AI bots are about to transform so much of what we know about everyday life, leaving behind much more artificial pollution than we can ponder now…
These AI agents are building ‘civilizations’ on Minecraft | Cybernews:
Run by California-based startup Altera, the project had AI agents collaborating to create virtual societies complete with their own governmental institutions, economy, culture, and religion.
Altera said it ran simulations on a Minecraft server entirely populated by autonomous AI agents “every day” and the results were “always different.”
In one simulation, AI agents banded together to set up a market, where they agreed to use gems as a common currency to trade supplies – building an economy.
Curiously, according to the company, it was not the merchants who traded the most but a corrupt priest who started bribing townsfolk to convert to his religion.
Good read on the topic with some predictions about AI bots from Ted Gioia here as well.
I was honored to be asked to preach today at Garden of Grace UCC in Columbia, SC by my favorite pastor, Rev. Merianna Harrelson. I gave a little backstory about my interest and studies in ecology and religion (and why that’s such a fascinating topic) before bringing in our passage from 1 Kings (my favorite biblical book for many reasons). Here’s that passage if you’d like to read along with the sermon text here:
Introduction:
Good morning, Church. It’s a blessing to be with you today in our Garden of Grace as we gather to worship and reflect on God’s presence in our lives.
I have a seemingly strange background. My background as a classroom teacher is about the interactions of things and how things move. That led to the chance to teach AP Physics, Environmental Science, Life Science, and Earth and Space Science over the years. These are all classes about topics I am deeply fascinated with because of the connections. The other half of my background is theological and spiritual, also focused on connections.
One of the questions that always seemed to have popped up after a few weeks in the classroom with a new set of students was, “Mr. Harrelson, do you believe in aliens if you are religious and study science?” It’s a great question, and I’d usually use the famous astronomer Carl Sagan’s point that if we’re all alone, it’s a mighty big waste of … space.
But I’m here to tell you today that we are not alone. We have never been alone. I’m not talking about aliens, but I’m talking about the research that modern science, philosophy, and theology are showing about our concept of intelligence and consciousness. This isn’t just about dolphins, puppies, and whales. We’re seeing data from everywhere that creatures once thought to be non-intelligent are actually intelligent. Plants, trees, bacteria, ants, insects…, and even “non-living” entities are showing surprising data. Water? Could water be “intelligent?”
No, we are not alone. We have just created self-imposed cages around ourselves to make us feel alone. We have hidden behind screens to hide ourselves away from the connection to each other and the Creation. And that’s just how the powers that be want us to be… trapped and ready to buy on demand and stream our health away to fuel systems of spiritual oppression.
Today’s scripture from 1 Kings is a powerful reminder of the sacred spaces that connect us to God and how to overcome this spiritual oppression. As I’ve been preparing this sermon, I’ve been reflecting on how this passage resonates with my current work in ecological theology. As some of you know, I’ve been delving deeply into the intersection of spirituality and ecology. I believe there’s a profound message for us here today, especially as we consider the beauty and challenges of our own environment here in South Carolina.
The passage we read from 1 Kings 8:22-30, 41-43, is part of Solomon’s prayer of dedication for the Temple. This Temple was not just a building; it was the heart of Israel’s spiritual life, a place where the presence of God was believed to dwell among the people. As we think about the significance of this Temple, I invite us to consider the sacred spaces in our own lives—both the ones we build and the ones that have been gifted to us by creation.
I. The Temple as a Sacred Space (1 Kings 8:22-30)
Let’s start by reflecting on the Temple itself. In Solomon’s time, this was a monumental achievement, a physical space where heaven and earth met. The people of Israel believed that God’s presence was uniquely manifest in this place, and they came to it with reverence and awe.
But what makes a space sacred? Is it the stones and the gold, the grandeur of the architecture? Or is it something more? Theologians and scholars have long debated this, but there’s a simple truth that transcends these discussions: a space becomes sacred when it is recognized as a place where God’s presence is honored and felt.
Throughout history, many cultures have recognized natural landscapes as sacred spaces—forests, rivers, mountains—as places where the divine presence is felt. In South Carolina, we are blessed with an abundance of such spaces. Think of the Congaree National Park, with its towering trees and rich biodiversity. Or the peaceful marshlands along our coast, teeming with life. These places, too, are sacred, not because we have built something there, but because they are part of God’s creation, where life thrives, and where we can feel a deep connection to the divine.
As we reflect on Solomon’s Temple, I invite you to consider how we can recognize and honor the sacred spaces in our own environment. How can we approach these natural places with the same reverence that the Israelites brought to the Temple?
II. The Role of the Stranger (1 Kings 8:41-43)
In the second part of our reading, Solomon prays for the foreigner—the stranger—who comes to the Temple. He asks that God hears the prayers of those who are not part of Israel so that “all the peoples of the earth may know your name and fear you.”
This is a radical inclusivity in worship, recognizing that the presence of God is not confined to one people or one place. It’s a powerful reminder that God’s love and presence are for all, and that we are called to welcome the stranger, to extend our care and compassion beyond our immediate community.
There is a deep ecological parallel here. Just as Solomon prays for the foreigner, we must extend our care for creation beyond our immediate environment. The challenges we face—climate change, species loss, pollution—are not confined to one region or one people. They are global challenges that connect us to a larger, global community.
Let me share a story that highlights this connection. In the 13th century, St. Francis of Assisi, a figure well-known for his love of all creatures, referred to the sun, moon, and even death as his “brothers” and “sisters.” He saw all of creation as part of one family, interconnected and equally loved by God. In his famous Canticle of the Sun, he praises God for the elements of creation, recognizing their value not just for humanity but for all life.
Closer to home, we can look to the Gullah/Geechee communities along the South Carolina coast. These communities have long understood the importance of living in harmony with the land and the sea. They’ve worked to protect their environment, recognizing that their culture and spirituality are deeply intertwined with the health of the ecosystems around them.
As we think about the stranger, the foreigner, and the interconnectedness of all creation, let’s ask ourselves: How can we extend our care for the environment to those places and creatures we may never see, but whose well-being is connected to our own?
III. The Call to Reimagine Our Relationship with Creation
This brings us to a crucial point: the call to reimagine our relationship with creation. My own journey in studying ecological theology has led me to explore how ancient and medieval understandings of ecology can inform our current approach to environmental stewardship.
In these earlier times, people often viewed themselves as part of a larger, living world, not separate from it. They understood that their well-being was directly tied to the health of the environment. They saw themselves as participants in creation, not just consumers of it.
In South Carolina, we have a unique opportunity to reimagine our relationship with the natural world. From the urban green spaces here in Columbia to the conservation efforts in our rural areas, we can take steps to protect and restore the environment, not just for our own sake but for the sake of future generations.
One practical way we can do this is by participating in local environmental initiatives. For example, the Congaree Riverkeeper is doing vital work to protect and preserve our rivers. Or consider supporting sustainable agriculture projects that not only provide healthy food but also care for the land.
Another concept that has emerged in my studies is the idea of an “ecological sabbath”—a time to disconnect from the busyness of life and reconnect with nature. This could be as simple as setting aside a few hours each week to spend time outdoors, to walk in the woods, to listen to the birds, and to reflect on our place in the web of life.
IV. Practical Applications: Living Out Our Ecological Spirituality
As we move towards the conclusion of our time together, I want to encourage each of you to think about how you can live out this ecological spirituality in your own lives. Here are a few steps we can take:
Psalm 84 says, “How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts!” This verse reminds us that all of creation is a dwelling place for God, worthy of our respect and care. Whether it’s the towering trees of the Congaree, the rolling hills of the Piedmont, or the quiet marshes of the Lowcountry, these places are all part of God’s creation, and they are all sacred.
Conclusion:
As we close, I want to leave you with this thought: The Temple that Solomon built was a place where heaven and earth met, a place where people could come to feel the presence of God. But we are not limited to finding God’s presence in buildings. The entire earth is a sacred space, a place where we can encounter the divine.
Let us go forth with a renewed commitment to care for the earth as an act of faith, recognizing the sacredness in every part of creation. Let us see ourselves as participants in this beautiful, intricate web of life that God has created, and let us work together to protect and restore the world around us.
Closing Prayer:
Loving God, we thank you for the gift of creation, for the beauty of the earth, and the abundance of life that surrounds us. Help us to see all spaces, both built and natural, as sacred. Guide us in our stewardship of the earth, give us wisdom in our ecological decisions, and deepen our sense of connection to you and to all creation. May we go forth with hearts open to your presence in every corner of the world, committed to caring for your creation as an act of love and worship. In Your holy name, we pray. Amen.
Waste watchers: Using AI to minimize food waste in Yale’s dining halls | YaleNews:
Nationally, an estimated 30 to 40% of the food supply is wasted, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture. And it’s not only the food itself that goes to waste, but the land, water, labor, and energy used to produce it. Food waste is linked to roughly 8% of global emissions. At Yale, food purchases currently account for about 12,500 metric tons of carbon dioxide equivalent, according to the Office of Sustainability.
In this episode of “Thinking Religion,” Sam is joined by Matthew Klippenstein to discuss a wide range of topics, including cultural differences, the development of early Christianities, political dynamics in the USA and Canada, and the philosophical and historical context of monotheism.
How Europe’s only Indigenous group is inspiring a greener Christianity:
“Sámi traditions and our practices all have to do with collaboration — with the place, with animals, with everything that grows,” said Lovisa Mienna Sjöberg, a Sámi theologian at the Sámi University of Applied Sciences in Norway. “You should not take more than is your part to take.”
But more than 600 years after their first encounters with missionaries, Sámi communities are also some of northern Europe’s most devoutly Christian. Mixing Indigenous cosmology and ethics with Christian stories, imagery and theology, the Sámi have, over centuries, evolved a multilayered faith of their own, often in the face of bitter oppression and persecution by puritan churches and state authorities.
Happening quickly…
Exclusive: OpenAI working on new reasoning technology under code name ‘Strawberry’ | Reuters:
The document describes a project that uses Strawberry models with the aim of enabling the company’s AI to not just generate answers to queries but to plan ahead enough to navigate the internet autonomously and reliably to perform what OpenAI terms “deep research,” according to the source. This is something that has eluded AI models to date, according to interviews with more than a dozen AI researchers.
Be mindful and intentional with technology tools…
Google and Microsoft report growing emissions as they double-down on AI : NPR:
“One query to ChatGPT uses approximately as much electricity as could light one light bulb for about 20 minutes,” he says. “So, you can imagine with millions of people using something like that every day, that adds up to a really large amount of electricity.”
This is a fantastic post from Garbage Day (a newsletter I always enjoy) on the concept of “slop.” If you haven’t already, you will probably hear that term in various contexts soon (if you’re on Facebook, you’ve probably encountered “AI Slop” from weirdly generated pictures of Jesus at a poker match with dogs, etc).
The basic concept is that we’re all doing the work of content production as once mainstreamed media continues to crumble and (d)evolve as studios, businesses, influencers, and record labels struggle for relevancy. However, your 100 posts that are fully SEO friendly with the right hashtags and AI-generated thoughts to promote your new business or side hustle are just… noise.
“Slop,” if you will. Like Taylor Swift Slop when she churns out alternative versions of her songs.
Slop isn’t inherently negative, but it’s not doing much to further the discovery or memory of your brand (whether you’re marketing a business or posting images from your vacation on your Reels).
Intentional Marketing will be a buzzword as we lurch towards election season and the Fall here in the USA if not well into 2025. Don’t post more. Post better and consume intentionally to decrease the slop effect.
The fix for all of this seems obvious and, unfortunately, impossible, at least right now. It has to come from us, the user, the viewer, the consumer, and there’s a lot of us now. We have to be the ones to demand that we all make less, aim smaller, be more deliberate about what we consume, and find new ways of funding — and distributing — what we do make.
Good line…
Sturgill Simpson Walked Away From Music. Johnny Blue Skies Is Just Getting Started | GQ:
Fascism has its moments, but it never lasts.
YouTube Shorts and these voiceovers are a mistake, in my opinion. YouTube does a few things very well. Long form videos. Discovery marketing. Algorithmic suggestions that draw people in to long binges of watching.
You don’t need to chase something that you think is a market driver if it’s not a core competency.
Do what you do and do it very well and the market will reward you long-term. These short-term plays expend resources and revenues.
YouTube Shorts adds TikTok-style artificial voiceovers – The Verge:
YouTube has announced a set of new features for YouTube Shorts, some of which are available now, like a new text-to-speech video narration that lets you add an artificial voiceover. On TikTok, those are the sometimes startlingly robotic voices that you hear a lot on videos with something to promote.
Anglo-Saxons may have fought in northern Syrian wars, say experts | Archaeology | The Guardian:
“These finds put the Anglo-Saxon princes and their followers centre-stage in one of the last great wars of late antiquity. It takes them out of insular England into the plains of Syria and Iraq in a world of conflict and competition between the Byzantines and the Sasanians and gave those Anglo-Saxons literally a taste for something much more global than they probably could have imagined.
It adds an international dimension to those sites. We have looked at the Anglo-Saxons in a rather insular manner.”
Beautiful thoughts here about modern architecture…
Rome’s Colosseum Was Once a Wild, Tangled Garden – The Atlantic:
Plants growing today in the Colosseum include very rare species like Asphodelus fistulosus and Sedum dasyphyllum, which scientists believe can only survive when sheltered by the arena, a sanctuary from the urban environment outside. Due to increased pollution and the rising temperature of the city, the flora inside the ruined walls are beginning to change: Plants suited to a warmer and more arid climate are beginning to proliferate at the expense of those more used to cool and damp.
Turns out it wasn’t just spy balloons…
Since 2017, self-driving cars owned by Chinese companies have traversed 1.8 million miles of California alone, according to a Fortune analysis of the state’s Department of Motor Vehicles data. As part of their basic functionality, these cars capture video of their surroundings and map the state’s roads to within two centimeters of precision. Companies transfer that information from the cars to data centers, where they use it to train their self-driving systems.
