As part of my studies, I focus on how we as humans internalize and externalize ideas such as ecology or being or intention in general (go read some Owen Barfield if you need a primer on why words matter… start with Unancestral Voice) by looking at the past (medieval but especially ancient). I’m convinced that we’ll eventually look back on this era of classifying natural avenues of therapeautic treatments such as psilocybin as dangerous schedule-1 “drugs” and shake our heads at our naive foolishness in the same way that we wonder how ancient people could have been so “primitive” about ideas (they weren’t!) before the scientific revolution and the Enlightenment movement where so much of our current psychological crises and negative manifestations originate…
Link here is to the archived version (non-paywall):
The work suggests it might one day be possible to choose which brain connections to remodel, depending on the mental health condition that is being treated. “Our study hints at an exciting avenue for future research to combine neuromodulation with psychedelics to precisely target specific circuits for neural plasticity,” the researchers wrote in their paper.
I have very similar thoughts about our growing energy needs and utilizing the very free and abundant (and powerful) resource that is energy being produced by our own star that floods our Earth with more than enough energy potential to get us out of the capitalistic and colonialist matrix that is the fossil fuel industry… a mesh of Whitehead Schedulers powered by solar energy would do wonders to transform the daily lives of humans and more-than-humans here on Earth…
Good read and idea (and stats, espeically out of Pakistan):
So let’s start at $2.5 trillion, the number for the panels alone, because, hey, Tik Tok videos. Is that an absurd number to imagine helping to pay? The International Monetary Fund reported recently that the world spends $7 trillion a year subsidizing fossil fuel. And all it gets us is the chance to buy more fossil fuel—the last line of Jacobson’s email makes it clear that even at the full price this would be a huge bargain. You save huge amounts of money because you don’t have to pay for fuel any more. Once the panels are up, sunshine is free. It changes everything.
Not rubble, but root not the toppled arch, nor the cold stone marked by lichen and crow, but the deeper disintegration, the fall inward where sweetness becomes sediment, layered, compost of memory.
Ruin, the old word, not only decay, but rushing, the cataract, the river’s surrender to gravity and sea. So Shakespeare’s grief, the “ruin of a sweet life,” is not just the breaking, but the swift carrying away… an eddy, a flood.
And Barfield reminds: words remember what we forget. Ruin, from ruina, the collapse, yet also the running course, the onward plunge. Not merely wreckage, but motion. Not death, but migration.
So my sweet life, lived among walnut trees, between baptisms and poems, with children’s laughter, with books that smell of rain, ruin comes not as thief, but as torrent: the unmaking that remakes.
Here in this homeland, the sweet ruin of tobacco fields gives way to pine, and Cherokee memory rustles in leaves that still refuse erasure. Even the cross, that ruined tree, bears sap enough to green the nations.
Ruin is not only ending. It is the opening, the washed-out ditch through which a future grows in weeds. Sweetness is not lost, but borne away to mingle with ocean salt, to rise again in storm, to fall as rain on the waiting earth.
Certainly, he wasn’t the “first” but it is fascinating to read about ancient people who shared passions as I do, be they philosophy, religion, racing, or ancient art… patron saints are good to have in this life.
However, one of the earliest persons we know that we can call an “archaeologist” was a sixth-century BC man who lived at Nippur in Babylonia (modern-day Iraq), according to archaeologist Elizabeth Douglas Van Buren (1881-1961). He was either a collector or a curator of the university museum. This is inferred by a collection of artifacts he had in a clay vessel his house next to the library. He was a man of considerable knowledge, based on the collection of objects he kept. All the objects were specimens of the history and antiquity of his country.
Great episode from Yale’s Forum on Religion and Ecology Spotlights podcast… enjoyed the discussion of Plotinus (always!), spirituality vs religious as well as some of the background on why we do what we do in this fascinating sphere of Religion and Ecology (plus, the host Dr. Sam Mickey is also a graduate of my program at CIIS):
This episode features Rachael Petersen, a writer, thinker, and convener. We discuss her life and work at the confluence of philosophy, ecology, and transcendence. As Program Lead of Harvard’s Thinking with Plants and Fungi Initiative, Rachael guides interdisciplinary explorations into how cutting-edge plant science challenges our ideas of mind, matter, and meaning. She holds a Master of Divinity from Harvard Divinity School, where her research centered on panpsychism, pantheism, and the more-than-human world, with a special focus on German philosophy.
Merianna says what a whole lot of us (myself included) have been thinking and feeling and anxious about (particularly about our young ones after our summer travels to D.C. and NYC)…
As we watched the barricades go up and the monuments close so that a parade route could be established, I wondered what our kids would remember about our trip to Washington, DC. I hope they will remember the stories of those who fought for the silenced and the oppressed. I hope they will remember the leaders who rose up and spoke against injustice and capitalizing on the labor of others. I hope they will remember the beauty of the art and the curiosity that led to innovation.
As someone whose life’s work blends the spiritual and the ecological, I find this deeply concerning. Departments of religious studies are not just academic units… they’re vital spaces for nurturing intercultural literacy, deep critical consciousness, and ethical imagination. They help cultivate citizens who can engage thoughtfully with global and local complexities, not just through specialized knowledge, but through a broader, humanistic lens.
Given my own background from Wofford, Yale Divinity, Gardner-Webb Divinity, and now the California Institute for Integral Studies through my writing and teaching, I feel a genuine kinship with those in Oregon facing this upheaval. It strikes at the core of what it means to study religion… not as a marginal discipline, but as a way to grapple with meaning, belonging, and our shared ecological and spiritual fate.
We are writing to notify you of a looming threat to religious studies, the humanities, and tenure protections at the University of Oregon (UO). We are members of UO’s Department of Religious Studies, which is home to seven associate and full professors. Our department has served a critical role within humanities education here at UO since 1939, and in recent years has been thriving, with new faculty hires, robust course enrollments, and a steady stream of research grants, awards, and publications.
We have just learned that UO leadership plans to eliminate our department and terminate most or all of our department’s faculty. In addition, they plan to eliminate and terminate tenured faculty in at least three other humanities departments.
Interesting article… I’d add that religious orgs and churches have a meaningful role to play in helping people address climate anxieties and just being aware of ecological choices (corporate and individual)…
Other collective actions like community gardening, protesting, starting your own climate-aware group or spending more time in nature can help, according to Belanger, who’s seen patients have success with joining and leading climate cafes – online or in-person spaces where people gather to share their feelings on climate change.
“You don’t have to be a therapist to do that. It’s about holding space and that has been very helpful to them,” Belanger said.
“Greenwashing” is one of those terms that has bubbled up to the mainstream over the last few years and will only intensify as the broader global culture(s) become more attuned to the ecological realities we face in the decade ahead. Whether you’re one of the richest corporations to ever exist in human history or a church or mom-and-pop store or school, it would be wise to realize the measure the risks of claiming the high ground in environmental ethics (while also realizing the upsides and benefits of actually being moral and ethical in approaching those topics)…
Apple based its claim of carbon neutrality on a project it operates in Paraguay to offset emissions by planting eucalyptus trees on leased land.
The eucalyptus plantations have been criticised by ecologists, who claim that such monocultures harm biodiversity and require high water usage, earning them the nickname ‘green deserts.’
For nearly two decades, my work has lived at the intersection of ministry, teaching, and consulting. From the pulpit to the classroom to boardrooms and coffee shops, I’ve found myself in spaces where the central question is always the same: how do we tell our story in a way that is authentic, transformative, and faithful?
Now, as I continue my doctoral work in Ecology, Spirituality, and Religion at the California Institute of Integral Studies, that question has taken on new urgency. The story we tell as people of faith is not only about our relationship to God and neighbor—it is also about our relationship to the more-than-human world that sustains us.
MinistriesLab was born out of the recognition that many churches and religious organizations feel the tension of our ecological moment but aren’t sure how to respond. Climate change, biodiversity loss, and the unraveling of ecosystems aren’t abstract scientific headlines, but rather they are spiritual questions, theological challenges, and pastoral realities.
Too often, churches either avoid ecological conversations because they feel “too political,” or they silo them into one-off “green team” projects. But the truth is this: our spirituality is already ecological. Every sermon, every communion table, every baptism, every hymn, every prayer is situated within a world alive with God’s presence.
My research in integral ecology and what I call the Ecology of the Cross has convinced me that the church’s voice matters profoundly here. Congregations have the capacity to help people see differently and to recover the rooted wisdom of scripture and tradition, and to step into hopeful, place-based practices of care and connection.
What I’m Offering
Through MinistriesLab, I’m bringing together my background in marketing and digital consulting, my years of ministry and teaching, and my ongoing academic work in ecological theology.
Here’s what that looks like in practice:
Consulting: Helping churches and ministries tell their stories more clearly online and in person, with strategies that are both practical and faithful.
Speaking: Preaching, teaching, and leading workshops on the intersections of faith, ecology, and communication.
Place-Based Practices: Offering insights and guidance for congregations to engage their specific local ecosystems, whether through worship, education, or community practices that deepen spiritual awareness of place.
A Theological and Practical Invitation
The church has always been at its best when it helps people see the world with new eyes. From the prophets to Jesus’ parables to Hildegard of Bingen’s viriditas (the greening power of God), our tradition is rich with ecological wisdom. What we need now is the courage to embody it in this time and place.
That’s the heart of MinistriesLab: to equip and encourage faith communities to embrace an ecological spirituality that is both approachable and transformative.
If your congregation or organization is ready to step more fully into that work, whether through a consultation, a speaking engagement, or exploring new practices together, I’d love to start a conversation.
