Isaiah 43, Ecology, and the “New Thing” God Is Doing

Sam Harrelson on January 12, 2025

Isaiah 43

One of the most inspiring aspects of my studies in Ecology, Spirituality, and Religion as a PhD student (even at 46, we new students can be inspired!) has been deeply exploring and reflecting on how ancient texts speak directly into our modern ecological context. Although the Hebrew Bible / Old Testament is ancient in his authorship and structures, passages like Isaiah 43 continue to spark deep conversations about our relationship with the land, with animals, and with the Creator.

Merianna and I are still figuring out our church situation after moving back here to Spartanburg this fall. With a hurricane, professional career changes, new schools, new routines, new roads and trails and parks to explore, and this week’s snow storm under our belt, we’ve had quite the process of figuring out which faith community we’re being called to ultimately join. There are many solid contenders and each have their own strengths, connections, histories, and pulls. I don’t want to label this process “chruch shopping” as that seems gross and capitalistic to think of such a prayerful process something akin to picking out new pants or a new car.

This morning we attended The Episcopal Church of the Advent, which is a lovely campus and congregation. There are some familiar faces there from our time in Spartanburg previously as well as Merianna’s cousin who is a Priest there. As a Baptist, I’ve always found Episcopal liturgy beautiful and moving if not something out of a Hollywood movie showing what church should “feel” like in its setting and order of worship (that’s not meant as a slight by any means). Part of the worship this morning included a reading of Isaiah 43, and I was glad to have the chance to make some notes in the bulletin on the connections between my own studies in Religion, Spirituality, and Ecology with that passage and how it “fit” into a service commemorating the Baptism of Jesus by John (also a fellow Baptist who shared my righteous indignation about society in general).

Isaiah 43 is typically read as a promise of deliverance to a weary people and a “nation” of Israel. God is reminding Israel that they have been created, redeemed, and will be guided through fire and water. But there’s an ecological dimension to these verses that also calls us to see more than a metaphor about a “nation” (I use that term loosely as there were no nations as we think of them – or did think of them) or group of people being tested. When we consider Isaiah’s imagery of turning deserts into fertile gardens and making a way in the wilderness, we recognize a God who is intimately involved not just with people’s well-being but with the healing of the land itself.

From an ecotheological perspective, this passage offers hope that God’s plans for restoration isn’t limited to saving souls or guiding humanity alone; it encompasses rivers, deserts, and all of creation. That’s a powerful message today as we wrestle with climate crisis, habitat loss, and the fragility of life on our planet from Hurricane Helene’s devastation here and in our beloved Western North Carolina to the ongoing situation of California’s wildfires

In my Christian tradition, salvation is often taught as a personal or communal experience and is God’s intervention in human affairs for the sake of our redemption (again, we Baptists love to talk about salvation and redemption!). Yet, Isaiah 43 suggests a broader and more holistic narrative. God’s redemptive mission includes making rivers spring forth in parched landscapes, reimagining deserts as places teeming with life. This isn’t just about human salvation and all that it implies such as our species being somehow distinct or alien to our surrounding ecologies.

Where many of us have learned about salvation exclusively as a human-centered event, Isaiah’s words remind us that nature isn’t an afterthought in the Creator’s plan. Humanity and the environment are woven together in this tapestry of divine renewal that can be extended to concepts like our own baptisms. Instead of picturing a future rescue from a doomed earth, this passage hints at a glorious transformation that involves all of the earth itself.

We are, in a very real sense, co-participants with God and the land and sea and rivers and creatures and soil and all things in the ongoing act of creation.

Isaiah 43 aligns beautifully with that perspective. God’s pledge to “do a new thing” signals a broader cosmic renewal. Some theologians see this as a foundational text for talking about ecological hope. If the prophetic imagination envisions deserts blossoming and creation singing for joy, we’re invited, maybe even obligated I dare say, to participate in nurturing that vision. If it’s in the Bible, then it must be true, right? I’m just using my Baptist toolbox here.

Reflecting on Isaiah 43 also invites us to reconsider our responsibility as “stewards” (again, that is a loaded term that needs to be unpacked in a different post) of creation as set forth over and over again in the Old and New Testaments since the beginning in Genesis. If we believe the land is part of God’s redemptive plan, then our everyday actions, how we treat the environment, engage in sustainable living, advocate for just policies and ethical considerations of both the human and non-human, become acts of worship and devotion.

Isaiah’s words, “Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (43:19), continues to challenge me. In the face of environmental degradation, such as deforestation, overfishing, or global warming causing actions such as our cars, paving over nature with petroleum products that burn petroleum in the manifest destiny of “progress,” this verse holds out a hopeful expectation. God is still active, still creating pathways in the wilderness, still nourishing deserts into blossoming landscapes (and not just paving over them).

The question then becomes: Do we have the eyes to perceive it? In a world that can feel increasingly cynical about the fate of our planet, Isaiah 43 reminds us to look deeper. Renewal might be slow, but it is happening, and we can either join in or stand by and not fulfill our duty and ethical demands as we so often do (I’m being cynical).

Ultimately, Isaiah 43 offers more than a comforting word to a people in exile. It’s a biblical rallying cry and a still small voice for those of us who believe that spiritual transformation isn’t separate from ecological transformation. The same divine force that wills rivers in the desert also wills flourishing life for the ecosystems we depend upon.

My hope, both as a student of theology fascinated by the Old Testament and as someone immersed in the study of ecology, spirituality, and religion, is that these ancient words continue to point us toward a deeper reverence for creation and a stronger commitment to stewardship. In the grand narrative of redemption, the desert isn’t forgotten. Neither are the forests, nor the oceans, nor the skies. Even the mosquitos and gnats have a part to play.

God’s “new thing” involves all of it, and each of us has a place in that unfolding story.

Isaiah 43

But now thus says the Lord,
   he who created you, O Jacob,
   he who formed you, O Israel:
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
   I have called you by name, you are mine.
2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
   and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
   and the flame shall not consume you.
3 For I am the Lord your God,
   the Holy One of Israel, your Saviour.
I give Egypt as your ransom,
   Ethiopia* and Seba in exchange for you.
4 Because you are precious in my sight,
   and honoured, and I love you,
I give people in return for you,
   nations in exchange for your life.
5 Do not fear, for I am with you;
   I will bring your offspring from the east,
   and from the west I will gather you;
6 I will say to the north, ‘Give them up’,
   and to the south, ‘Do not withhold;
bring my sons from far away
   and my daughters from the end of the earth—
7 everyone who is called by my name,
   whom I created for my glory,
   whom I formed and made.’


8 Bring forth the people who are blind, yet have eyes,
   who are deaf, yet have ears!
9 Let all the nations gather together,
   and let the peoples assemble.
Who among them declared this,
   and foretold to us the former things?
Let them bring their witnesses to justify them,
   and let them hear and say, ‘It is true.’
10 You are my witnesses, says the Lord,
   and my servant whom I have chosen,
so that you may know and believe me
   and understand that I am he.
Before me no god was formed,
   nor shall there be any after me.
11 I, I am the Lord,
   and besides me there is no saviour.
12 I declared and saved and proclaimed,
   when there was no strange god among you;
   and you are my witnesses, says the Lord.
13 I am God, and also henceforth I am He;
   there is no one who can deliver from my hand;
   I work and who can hinder it?


14 Thus says the Lord,
   your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel:
For your sake I will send to Babylon
   and break down all the bars,
   and the shouting of the Chaldeans will be turned to lamentation.*
15 I am the Lord, your Holy One,
   the Creator of Israel, your King.
16 Thus says the Lord,
   who makes a way in the sea,
   a path in the mighty waters,
17 who brings out chariot and horse,
   army and warrior;
they lie down, they cannot rise,
   they are extinguished, quenched like a wick:
18 Do not remember the former things,
   or consider the things of old.
19 I am about to do a new thing;
   now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
   and rivers in the desert.
20 The wild animals will honour me,
   the jackals and the ostriches;
for I give water in the wilderness,
   rivers in the desert,
to give drink to my chosen people,
21   the people whom I formed for myself
so that they might declare my praise.


22 Yet you did not call upon me, O Jacob;
   but you have been weary of me, O Israel!
23 You have not brought me your sheep for burnt-offerings,
   or honoured me with your sacrifices.
I have not burdened you with offerings,
   or wearied you with frankincense.
24 You have not bought me sweet cane with money,
   or satisfied me with the fat of your sacrifices.
But you have burdened me with your sins;
   you have wearied me with your iniquities.

Let’s Preach About This…

Sam Harrelson on January 9, 2025

Amen and amen… this should be the focus point of way more sermons every Sunday morning in our united states. Reminds me of the great Thomas Berry:

rapid transition, deep transformation – by John Seng:

In the westernized world, especially in the domain of policy and politics, we are trained to demand timely, quantitative solutions. We’re going to have to grow to operate outside of that narrow lens on life. We need to evolve as a species, to embrace our role as one of many life forms, and find joy in a lifestyle that is compatible with the basic properties of our beloved planet. Only when we learn to honor and appreciate our relationships with all of the living world will we be able to transition to ways of life that protect us from extinction. Unlike purely technological fixes, which can be imposed through the hammers of policy and finance, a shift in the direction of right relationship with our planet needs to happen outside of the halls of power, within our own hearts and minds.

Disparities of Urban Heat Islands Over Time

Sam Harrelson on December 17, 2024

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.

Source: People of Color Exposed to More Extremely Hot Days

Beyond the Corporate Gloss: A Deeper Critique of Google’s 2024 Environmental Report

Sam Harrelson on December 11, 2024

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.

Trees and a Renewal of Hope During Advent

Sam Harrelson on November 30, 2024

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.

Ecological Consciousness: A Phenomenological Approach

Sam Harrelson on November 30, 2024

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.

How Churches Can Integrate Ecology into Ministries

Sam Harrelson on October 13, 2024

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. 

Embracing Ecological Intentionality: A New Lens for Faith and Community in South Carolina

Sam Harrelson on September 9, 2024

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.

Yale’s Dining Halls Using AI to Minimize Food Waste

Sam Harrelson on August 7, 2024

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.