Tag: ecology

Reflecting on Brazil’s Wildfires and Drought

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.

Theological Reflections on Ecological Crisis

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.

Integrating Indigenous Wisdom

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

A Call to Action: Toward Ecological Reconciliation

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

Reimagining Our Relationship with Creation

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.

Sermon: “Reimagining Sacred Spaces: The Ecological Call in 1 Kings”

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:

  • Explore Natural Areas with Reverence: Spend time in the natural areas around Columbia and South Carolina with a sense of reverence and stewardship. Recognize these spaces as sacred and approach them with care and respect.
  • Support Local Environmental Organizations: Consider getting involved with or supporting local organizations that are working to protect our environment. Groups like the Congaree Riverkeeper or the South Carolina Wildlife Federation are doing important work that we can all support.
  • Practice an Ecological Sabbath: Make time to disconnect from the noise of everyday life and reconnect with nature. Use this time to reflect on your relationship with creation and to seek God’s presence in the natural world. Even here in the scorching heat of Columbia in the Summer, there is God to be found amidst the humidity!

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.