“But my dear Crito, why should we pay so much attention to what ‘most people’ think? The most sensible people who have more claim to be considered, will believe that things have been done exactly as they have” (Plato, The Last Days of Socrates, trans. Tredennick and Tarrant, Penguin Classics, 2003, 80).
Here’s a paper I’ve written on the concept of re-thinking conservation attempts in modern societies based on technocratic and market-based ideas. Conservation and human action (and inaction) is a fascinating area to ponder. As part of my wider work on The Ecology of the Cross, this is a paper that explores some of the roots of our Western concepts of “conservation” and a possible middle way in these uncertain times using fire as a case study 🔥🌲.
Here’s the abstract:
“This paper proposes a paradigm shift in conservation, moving from technocratic and colonial frameworks toward an ethic of interspecies communion. Drawing on Juno Salazar Parreñas’ critique of biopolitical care, Mara Goldman’s analysis of Maasai narrative epistemologies, Barrett et al.’s model of intuitive interspecies communication, and philosophical reflections from Edgar Morin, William Desmond, and the emerging field of Ecocene fire practices, the paper articulates a vision of both conservation and understandings and uses of fire rooted in reciprocity, complexity, and ontological humility. It argues that communion, not control, must ground conservation in the age of ecological disruption.”
This time last year, I didn’t know we were moving cities, changing jobs, or starting new schools for all our children. Even as I write it, it feels strange that we didn’t know our present reality would exist…
While our lives are being turned upside by advances in technology, changing political climate, and more powerful natural disasters, may these changes remind us to love more deeply and work more compassionately for what is good and just.
This paper proposes a Process Ecology of the Cross, a theological and philosophical reframing of the Christian symbol of the cross through the lens of process-relational metaphysics, ecological kenosis, and more-than-human cosmopolitics. Drawing from the work of Alfred North Whitehead, Catherine Keller, Mihnea Tǎnǎsescu, Donna Haraway, and Indigenous fire stewardship practices, the paper explores how the cross can be reclaimed not as a juridical transaction or redemptive violence, but as a cosmopolitical threshold: a site of shared vulnerability, transformation, and planetary communion. The argument unfolds across seven sections, examining communion as an ontological principle, kenosis as an ethical-political descent, fire as a sacrament of regeneration, and ecological intentionality as a mode of participatory perception. Through phenomenology, posthuman theology, and lived ecological practices, this paper articulates a vision of salvation not as escape from the Earth but as a deepening within it. The cross becomes an altar of becoming-with, a liturgical site of composted grief, regenerative peace, and hope beyond the human.
Over the past three years, companies have made plans to invest more than $843 billion across the United States in projects aimed at reducing planet-warming emissions, driven by lucrative tax credits for clean energy provided by the 2022 Inflation Reduction Act.
But only about $321 billion of that money has actually been spent, with many projects still on the drawing board, according to data made public on Tuesday by the Clean Investment Monitor, a joint project of the Rhodium Group and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.
Now, much of the rest, about $522 billion, will depend on action playing out on Capitol Hill. Starting on Tuesday, Republicans in Congress will begin a contentious debate over proposals to roll back tax credits for low-carbon energy as they search for ways to pay for a roughly $4 trillion tax cut package favored by President Trump.
Recent political debates, such as those surrounding the Inflation Reduction Act (IRA), highlight a troubling reliance on technocratic solutions to address the climate crisis. While investments in clean energy are essential, they are insufficient without a deeper transformation in our collective consciousness and ethical frameworks.
The IRA represents a substantial federal investment in clean energy, aiming to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and promote the development of renewable energy sources. However, as political dynamics shift, the stability and longevity of such initiatives come into question.
For instance, recent legislative proposals have sought to roll back key provisions of the IRA, including clean energy tax credits. These political maneuvers highlight the fragility of technocratic solutions that rely on shifting political will.
Addressing the climate crisis requires more than policy changes; it demands a fundamental shift in how we perceive our relationship with the natural world. Philosophers like Catherine Pickstock and William Desmond advocate for a return to liturgical language and metaphysical frameworks that emphasize communion and participation with the environment.
Pickstock argues that true language is inherently liturgical, fostering a participatory relationship with reality. Desmond’s concept of the “metaxological” emphasizes the importance of the “between”—the relational space that enables genuine connection and ethical engagement with others, including the non-human world.
By embracing liturgical practices and ecological ethics, we can cultivate a sense of reverence and responsibility toward the environment. This approach moves beyond viewing nature as a resource to be managed and instead recognizes it as a sacred community to which we belong.
Such a transformation encourages practices that are sustainable not only environmentally but also spiritually and culturally. It fosters communities that are attuned to the rhythms of nature and committed to the well-being of all life forms.
While technocratic solutions like the IRA play a role in mitigating climate change, they are insufficient on their own. Lasting change arises from a profound transformation in consciousness, one that reestablishes our connection to the natural world through liturgy, language, and ethical living. Only by addressing the metaphysical and psychological roots of our ecological crisis can we hope to create a sustainable and harmonious future.
This research from OpenAI (company behind ChatGPT) is certainly interesting with a large data set, but this part was particularly relevant for me and my work on phenomenology and empathy…
That said, this latest research does chime with what scientists so far have discovered about how emotionally compelling chatbot conversations can be. For example, in 2023 MIT Media Lab researchers found that chatbots tend to mirror the emotional sentiment of a user’s messages, suggesting a kind of feedback loop where the happier you act, the happier the AI seems, or if you act sadder, so does the AI.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this question from my context as an AP Physics and Physical Science teacher for close to 20 years previous to hopping in to my PhD studies in Ecology and Religion where I’m focusing on questions of consciousness and intentionality.
Electrons are just plain weird. I always thought it fascinating that we discovered them before protons and neutrons.
Philosophers don’t just philsophize… they help science move ahead by realizing that materialist reductionist viewponts don’t always point to where the data or truth is trying to lead us…
I have argued strongly in my book and on this blog that calling electrons “particles” is misleading, and one needs to remember this if one wants to understand them. One might instead consider calling them “wavicles“, a term itself from the 1920s that I find appropriate. You may not like this term, and I don’t insist that you adopt it. What’s important is that you understand the conceptual point that the term is intended to convey.
Aristotle’s Metaphysics as well as The Categories are two of my favorite books to pick up when I need to scratch my head or be humbled in my knowledge of ancient Greek. I find Plato more sensible, but there’s something about these two books (especially Metaphysics) that keeps bringing me back in my own work and research on religion and ecology and consciousness.
Fun quote here (and good read if you’re looking for a long-form first take on Metaphysics).
The Metaphysics inevitably looks like an attack on Plato just because Plato’s books are so much better than anything left by Thales, Empedocles or anyone else.
There’s so much more I’ll say about this in the future.
Also, here’s an amazing thread you should review if you’re interested in reading more philosophy (and theology) in the new year instead of doom scrolling on social media.
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.
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…
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.
This previous school year, my students in Environmental Science led our school’s recycling initiative. They absolutely loved it. From making catchy morning announcements each Tuesday to designing posters and then the thrill of being out of the class and visiting each classroom from Pre-K’s to other 12th-grade classes was a blast for them (and me). We’d get questions such as “what’s the point?” every so often that I hear reflected and diffracted from social media and our general culture.
However, the experience led to great conversations in class about sustainability, the value of our choices, and how we use materials.
Yes, recycling is “broken” in many ways, as are numerous systems in our society in 2024. However, I firmly believe that by taking the right actions, we can contribute in small but significant ways at our individual levels to effect positive change. The success of our recycling initiative is a testament to this belief, and it should inspire us all to continue our efforts toward a better, more sustainable future.
“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot..” and all that. From choosing to be a teacher to choosing to pick up that piece of trash in the store parking lot to choosing to be intentional about how we recycle… those choices add up.
In theory, every item you recycle can keep resources in the ground, avoid greenhouse gases and help keep the environment healthy. And that’s all good.
“The value is in displacing virgin materials,” said Reid Lifset, a research scholar at Yale’s School of the Environment.
But here’s the critical part: Don’t wish-cycle.
Follow the instructions provided by your local hauler. If you throw in stuff they don’t want, the effort needed to weed it out makes it less likely that anything will get recycled at all.
Wonderful piece here by Anne Helen Peterson highlighting our word for the day (I also recommend subscribing to her always astute Culture Study newsletter here):
DISCERNMENT
I won’t spoil the entire piece for you (it’s worth your time), but here’s the kernel regarding discernment…
A printed and mailed newsletter isn’t the right solution for every community, just like a Marco Polo group isn’t right for every friend group and a phone call isn’t right for every work relationship. But now that we, as a civilization, have figured out all these ways to access everyone and everything all the time, the hardest work is no longer in the delivery. It’s in the discernment.
Those of us who have sat through many long stanzas of Just As I Am at the end of our Sunday Service at the local Baptist church as young people, dreaming of the meal being cooked across the street at the Fellowship Hall, know the value of a printed church bulletin. I think a good deal of my love of design and printed aesthetics comes from those old pieces of paper, even today.
I still have the church bulletin from the 1994 Youth Sunday at Little Bethel Baptist Church in Mullins, SC, when I preached my first sermon (it was on Kurt Cobain and why young people feel disillusioned with the powers that be…). I still have the bulletin from the 2000 Wofford College Baccalaureate Service when I gave the Pastoral Prayer. I have bulletins from most of the sermons I gave while “on the circuit” throughout North Carolina as a seminary student in the ‘00s. I have many important bulletins from Merianna’s career and calling as a Pastor, from her first sermon to her ordination service to the blessings of our children and friends’ children, etc. I have bulletins and programs from my children’s and students’ plays, musicals, and dance recitals. I have my old love letters from 7th-9th grade in the original box they were stored during my youth.
Discernment is one of those intangibles that our modern cultures seem to overlook in favor of the instant gratification of scrolling, likes, clout, and followers count. Yet, as I reflect on these printed souvenirs from my own journey, I can’t help but feel that strange tingling of wisdom that comes with age and the accumulation of experiences at our roots.
I’ll never be an oak tree in this life. Still, this accumulated humus, topsoil, and sometimes painful rain of memories give me a glimpse into what it must be like to be a Mother Tree in the forest, seeing life come and go and then come again over the many long years and human quantified time of centuries while trying to discern what’s best for the forest.
So I hope for a little discernment for you today in your walk along The Way and wherever life might take you. Collect some scraps of paper to help you remember, and keep a good notebook to help you look back in order to look forward better with a little discernment.
What is increasingly clear, though, is that Jobs’ prediction that future changes would be even more profound raise questions about the “bicycle for the mind” analogy itself: specifically, will AI be a bicycle that we control, or an unstoppable train to destinations unknown? To put it in the same terms as the ad, will human will and initiative be flattened, or expanded?
I’ve just finished Robert Sapolsky’s (excellent) book, Determined. You should read it for yourself, obviously, but Sapolsky does an expert job of providing the argument that our conception of determinism and what we colloquially call “free will” are to be examined under a much stricter microscope society-wide.
These sorts of philosophical arguments rarely escape the ivory tower of The Academy. However, Sapolsky is a masterful speaker and has attracted a good deal of attention in the mainstream for his seemingly outlandish idea that we do not, in fact, possess free will.
I think he’s right and on to something monumental. If we took his admonishment with intention and began to examine the structures our society (especially our educational systems) place on behavioralism, exceptionalism, and perceived meritocracy… our society would look quite different. Dare I say it would be more just.
I picked up Darwin’s Descent of Man (1871) this morning and began reading. The beginnings of Chapter 4 here lay out a very similar thought construction about where we gather our conception of morality and sympathy in the context of what he labels natural history.
I was taken by his statement that:
“We are indeed all conscious that we do possess such sympathetic feelings, but our consciousness does not tell us whether they are instinctive, having originated long ago in the same manner as with the lower animals, or whether they have been acquired by each of us during our early years.”
Reading both of these texts together is an incredible thought experiment!
If you ask why incessantly, something strange starts to happen to you. You begin to notice the nuances and subtleness of the creation and life. Your eyes, ears, and senses open up to new sources of insight about what is happening inside and outside you.
There is no secret or formula to happiness or even success. Curiosity can help you achieve those goals, but curiosity can also bring anxiety, doubt, and apathy if not coached well. When paired with ethical empathy, curiosity is the root of actual paths to concepts such as happiness or well-being.
Unceasingly and insanely, always pursuing root causes, hows, whys, whens, and wheres will overcome generational trauma and an individual’s perceived limitations. Curiosity is a gift from God meant to wake us up to the way of intentional being.
Stoicism teaches us (me, at least) that virtue is the only good and that our characters are entirely in our power to shape and improve. In this context, curiosity becomes a tool for self-improvement and understanding the world. It aligns with the Stoic principle of living according to nature (where we derive the word physics), which involves understanding the nature of the universe and our roles.
Consider this quote from Marcus Aurelius:
“Look within. Within is the fountain of good; it will ever bubble up if thou wilt dig.”
This highlights the Stoic belief in introspection and self-awareness nurtured by curiosity.
Ethical empathy, in Stoicism, is closely tied to sympatheia, the mutual interdependence of all things in the universe. The Stoics believed that realizing this interconnectedness leads to a natural inclination to act virtuously and empathetically toward others.
Here’s a thought from Seneca that encapsulates this idea:
“We are members of one great body planted by nature. We must be helpful to one another, remembering that we were born for cooperation, like feet, hands, eyelids, and the rows of the upper and lower teeth.”
Therefore, when guided by the principles of Stoic virtue, curiosity transforms from mere inquisitiveness into a tool for personal and ethical growth. Through this lens, we begin to see the subtleties of life not just as isolated phenomena but as interconnected parts of a greater whole. This perspective fosters a deeper understanding and appreciation of life’s complexities, allowing us to find joy and contentment in pursuing knowledge and wisdom.
However, without ethical empathy, curiosity risks becoming a self-centered pursuit, detached from the greater good of humanity. The Stoics remind us that our actions and inquiries should not only serve personal growth but also contribute to the welfare of others. As Epictetus said,
“What ought one to say then as each hardship comes? I was practicing for this. I was training for this.”
Thus, curiosity becomes a form of life training, preparing us to face challenges with resilience and empathy.
Curiosity and ethical empathy, when aligned with Stoic virtues, curiosity, and ethical empathy lead us to a deeper understanding of the world and toward a more fulfilling and meaningful existence. They awaken us to the potential within ourselves and encourage us to live in harmony with others and the world.
I uploaded this post into ChatGPT-4 and asked DALL-E to create an image reflecting my words and the concept of curiosity related to ethical empathy and Stoicism. I think it did rather well! If you have no idea what any of that means, that’s ok… but you will soon!
By the way, this book could perhaps be described as the result of my own personal quest. For many years now, I have built my research and writing on a very simple statement of purpose—which I repeat, almost as a mantra, on every possible occasion, in print or public lectures: Music is a source of enchantment and a catalyst in human life, and my vocation is to celebrate its often forgotten power, not just as music history but also as a latent potentiality in our own day-to-day surroundings. In other words, songs are not just songs, but agents of change for individuals and societies.
Here are the “12 Problems” I’ve built my current life around. These are non-negotiables, and they are also the focus of everything I do. If a situation doesn’t fit into one of these problems, I’ll generally relegate it, delegate it, or ignore it.
I don’t generally recommend this practice for everyone. It’s a very difficult ethical standard to hold, and it can be cumbersome to run the mental math of “which problem am I trying to solve?” at any given time.
However, this approach’s clarity and focus far outweigh the negatives.
Here are my 12 Problems. I highly urge you to come up with your own:
How can I have a positive impact on this world?
How can I thrive while operating contrary to the dominant social or cultural trends?
How can I inspire young people to appreciate learning as a practice?
How do I provide for my family while remaining true to my calling?
How can I live with the most ethical sustainability while not sacrificing my enrichment in balance with the Creation?
How can I be the best role model for my espoused ideals and ethics as presented to my children and students?
How can I live according to nature (kata phusin in Stoicism)?
What does it mean to really be an effective teacher who can make connections and expand the worldview of my students?
How can I be a good Dad, and what does that mean?
How can I be a good partner, and what does that mean?
How can I explore my own self and brain and express that in my life?
How do I always maintain my own curiosity despite the challenges that the outside world might present?
Recently, I’ve been delving into a philosophy that’s been around for centuries but feels incredibly relevant to our modern times: Stoicism. In particular, I’ve been engrossed in the works of Marcus Aurelius, his ‘Meditations,’ (there are free versions out there on the web, but this Gregory Hayes version is my favorite), and Epictetus with his ‘Discourses (again, there are free versions available on the web that are easy to find, but this is a great version that I use personally).’ It’s been a transformative experience, which I am compelled to share, as it’s begun to significantly shape my perspective on parenting and teaching.
For those unfamiliar, Stoicism is a philosophy founded in Athens in the 3rd century BC but became especially popular in the first couple centuries of the Roman Empire. It teaches the development of self-control and fortitude as a means to overcome destructive emotions. The Stoic does not seek to extinguish feelings but instead transform them with a resolute ‘askēsis‘ that enables a person to develop clear judgment and inner calm.
Marcus Aurelius, a Stoic philosopher and Roman Emperor wrote ‘Meditations’ as a source of personal guidance and self-improvement. It’s a collection of thoughts, musings, and reminders to himself about the virtues he strived to cultivate—patience, humility, and understanding.
One of my favorite quotes from Aurelius is: “The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.” This concept, often summarized as “the obstacle is the way,” has profoundly reframed challenges in my life. As a parent and a teacher, numerous unforeseen obstacles arise. Rather than viewing these as setbacks, I now see them as opportunities for growth and learning—for myself and the young minds I’m shaping.
Epictetus, a formerly enslaved person turned philosopher, taught that our reactions are the only things within our control. He said, “We cannot choose our external circumstances, but we can always choose how we respond to them.” This insight has shifted my approach to parenting. When my child gets upset, I can’t always control the situation causing the distress, but I can control my reaction. I can choose patience, understanding, and compassion.
In the classroom, the Discourses of Epictetus have also inspired me to shift my focus from the outcomes of my students to their effort and growth. This approach aligns perfectly with the Stoic emphasis on controlling what’s within our power. I can’t control the grades my students receive, but I can encourage their resilience, their determination, and their love of learning.
Stoicism, focusing on inner strength, self-control, and accepting what we cannot change, provides a robust framework for navigating life’s challenges. As I continue to study and incorporate these principles into my life, I’m better equipped to respond to the demands of parenting and teaching.
My journey into Stoicism is ongoing, and I’m excited to share more insights as they come. If you’re interested in exploring this philosophy, I recommend starting with ‘Meditations’ by Marcus Aurelius and ‘The Discourses by Epictetus (and pick up Pierre Hadot’s The Inner Citadel if you want a deep-dive). Their wisdom is timeless and, as I’ve found, profoundly applicable to our modern lives.
τῶν ὄντων τὰ μέν ἐστιν ἐφ᾽ ἡμῖν, τὰ δὲ οὐκ ἐφ᾽ ἡμῖν should be the opening line of every textbook, Driver’s License manual, Facebook user agreement, and marriage certificate as we move through life. It’s the opening lines of Epictetus’ Handbook (“Some things are up to us, and some are not up to us.”).
We spent about half a class discussing a pair of images, both of which featured the Serenity Prayer: one was a delicate ceramic plate where the text was surrounded by morning glories and puppy dogs, and the other was the same text in the form of a bicep tattoo surrounded by American flags and tanks. Epictetus’s point is that how you frame content determines how you perceive it. And here we had, with the text of Epictetus, two cases of literal frames, one of which made the text seem gentle and available to those who might feel soothed by it, and the other of which made it seem macho and available to those who self-conceive in that way. So that conversation offered three different weavings of meta in the same place.
Now the serpent was more crafty than any other wild animal that the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, ‘Did God say, “You shall not eat from any tree in the garden”?’
My mom has always been highly allergic to poison ivy. I remember her having severe reactions to the plant after she would spend hours in her beloved gardens while I was growing up. I felt that I was immortal because I could basically roll in the stuff and never suffer a breakout or rash.
Then I got older.
And now I, like my mother, suffer harshly from interacting with poison ivy, sumac, or poison oak. The frustrating part is that as I get older, I enjoy gardening even more and that has been especially true over the past year during the Covid pandemic. My asparagus is now 4 years old and pretty amazing, btw. Thank God for Tecnu.
According to Genesis, we were created in a garden to enjoy the fruits of nature (plants, not animals… being omnivores wasn’t part of the created order, which is a point I like to make when people press me on literal interpretations of Genesis. Enjoy that steak… you’re betraying the created order. Don’t get me started on shrimp or wearing cotton and nylon together). Our created selves were breathed into by a God that walked in the Garden during the evening, looking to commune with us.
They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden at the time of the evening breeze, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. But the Lord God called to the man, and said to him, ‘Where are you?’
Poison ivy, like mosquitoes, is one of those realities of living in South Carolina that reminds you that you are mortal. From dust, we came, and to dust we shall return.
Cursed is the ground because of you; in toil you shall eat of it all the days of your life; thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you; and you shall eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread until you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; you are dust, and to dust you shall return.’
This past weekend I was working in our yard and removing the inevitable weeds and unruly plants that have popped up over the last few weeks of a South Carolina spring. They always come suddenly and ferociously this time of year. Our well-trimmed and manicured winter lawn becomes a weed-filled garden of poison delights within a few weeks every April. I always remember to put on my gloves and long sleeves and identify plants at the beginning of May when I attempt to tackle this new growth from the earth.
April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried tubers.
And now I’m reckoning with two armfuls of poison ivy rashes despite knowing I’d been tapped by those slick and sticky strands of green creation that always cause me to catch my breath. I quickly applied a good helping of Tecnu, thankfully. But still, here I am with two arms covered in red itchy bumps.
April is the month of reckoning. We must step back and examine the steps we made over the winter (even here in SC where the winters are milder than the Starnbergersee). We take stock of the first few months of the new year and we make plans for the rest of the year. There’s a reason Easter comes this time of the year.
There’s a reason we are reminded of our mortality and weakness to a simple plant while attempting to grow new food or beauty for our family and neighbors and communities. Gardening is not easy. It involves risk. Especially for those of us allergic to urushiol oil and too stubborn to remember to wear long sleeves when tending potatoes in the ground or Iris beds or clearing a path to show our children where the snake who shed a 5 foot long skin in our backyard last week probably lives.
The Lord God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from which he was taken. He drove out the man; and at the east of the garden of Eden he placed the cherubim, and a sword flaming and turning to guard the way to the tree of life.
We are all on our journeys outwards, East of Eden. Those paths are not simple highways, but meandering roads that are filled with opportunities and options and trees of fruit and weeds of poison. As we travel, we grow and we learn. We are able to identify the poisonous plants and discern which fruits are good to eat. Through it all, we learn and gain knowledge from the trees. The wisdom of our humanity is not a curse, but a blessing.
Poison ivy blisters and all.
New here? Start with these pieces that sketch what I mean by “Ecology of the Cross.”
What is the Ecology of the Cross?
An overview paper that lays out the integral ecology of the cross and why kenosis + ecological intentionality matter.
Process Ecology of the Cross
A deeper dive into communion, kenosis, fire, and planetary politics through a process-relational lens.
Why Edith Stein matters here
How The Science of the Cross became the metaphysical and spiritual backbone of this whole project.