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.

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

Reflecting on Brazil’s Wildfires and Drought

Sam Harrelson on September 14, 2024

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.

Ecological Intentionality and the Unseen Intelligences of the Non-Human World

Sam Harrelson on September 13, 2024

In the vibrant tapestry of life on Earth, we humans often see ourselves as the central thread… the primary actors in a grand narrative of progress, conflict, and survival. Yet, this perspective risks blinding us to the complex and interwoven intelligences that animate the non-human world. As I delve deeper into the concept of ecological intentionality, I find myself more attuned to the subtle, often overlooked ways in which non-human intelligences… from trees and fungi to rivers and mountains… participate in the unfolding story of our planet.

Ecological Intentionality: Beyond Human Consciousness

At its core, ecological intentionality challenges the anthropocentric view that intentionality… the capacity to have thoughts, desires, or purposes directed toward something… is the exclusive domain of human beings. Traditional phenomenology has long centered on human consciousness and its relationship to the world, but what if we extend the idea of intentionality beyond human minds? What if we imagine a world where other forms of life, and even so-called “inanimate” entities, possess their own kind of intentionality… their own ways of interacting with, responding to, and even shaping their environments?

The Bible offers insights into this broader understanding. In Psalm 96:12, we read, “Let the field exult, and everything in it! Then shall all the trees of the forest sing for joy.” This verse suggests that nature itself is alive with praise and has its own way of celebrating the divine, hinting at a form of intentionality that is beyond human comprehension.

Non-Human Intelligences: Trees, Fungi, and More

Consider the intelligence of a tree. Science increasingly reveals how trees communicate through vast underground networks of fungi, sharing nutrients, warning each other of danger, and even “nurturing” their offspring or neighbors in times of stress. This “Wood Wide Web” of fungal networks suggests a form of collective intentionality… a communal way of being that is responsive and adaptive to the needs of the forest as a whole. The trees do not act in isolation; they are part of an intricate community, continuously engaged in a dance of mutual support, competition, and survival.

In the Old Testament, we see a similar recognition of trees as participants in God’s creation. In Isaiah 55:12, it is written, “For you shall go out in joy and be led back in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.” Here, the trees are portrayed as beings with their own expression, actively engaging with the divine presence.

Then there are fungi themselves… the ancient, often unseen architects of life. Fungi have existed for over a billion years, long before the first plants emerged on land, and their networks are vast, complex, and purpose-driven. Mycorrhizal fungi form symbiotic relationships with plants, providing essential nutrients in exchange for sugars. This exchange isn’t a simple transaction but rather an ongoing negotiation that changes with the environment, the needs of the plants, and even the health of the entire ecosystem. Here, we see another form of non-human intelligence… an intelligence that is relational, dynamic, and deeply embedded in the fabric of life.

The River’s Mind: Thinking with the Flow

Even rivers can be seen as possessing a form of intentionality. Indigenous cultures around the world have long recognized rivers as sentient beings… entities with purpose, memory, and agency. In a phenomenological sense, a river shapes its surroundings, carves valleys, creates fertile plains, and sustains countless forms of life. Its movements are not random; they are responsive to the lay of the land, the seasonal rhythms, and the larger climate patterns. To think with the river is to understand its agency in shaping the landscape and the ecosystems that depend on it. A river “knows” how to flow, how to adapt to obstacles, and how to find its way to the sea.

The Bible also reflects on the role of water in the natural world as an agent of God’s purpose. In Job 38:25-27, God speaks of His creation, saying, “Who has cut a channel for the torrents of rain, and a way for the thunderbolt, to bring rain on a land where no one lives, on the desert, which is empty of human life, to satisfy the waste and desolate land, and to make the ground put forth grass?” This verse portrays water as having a role in creation that extends beyond human utility… it has a purpose and a life-giving role that is part of a larger divine intention.

A New Perspective: Participatory Awareness

Ecological intentionality invites us to shift from a mindset of domination and control to one of participatory awareness. It encourages us to see ourselves not as masters of nature but as participants in a vast, interconnected web of life, where each entity… human, animal, plant, or mineral… has its own form of agency and intelligence. This perspective has profound implications for how we approach environmental stewardship, conservation, and sustainability. Instead of seeing nature as a resource to be managed or exploited, we begin to recognize it as a community of intelligent beings with whom we share our lives.

The New Testament also echoes this view of interconnectedness. In Romans 8:19-21, Paul writes, “For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” Here, creation is portrayed as having its own yearning, its own purpose that is intertwined with the redemption of humanity.

Re-Envisioning Our Relationships with the Non-Human World

By embracing ecological intentionality, we start to ask different questions… How do we listen to the voices of the non-human intelligences around us? How do we learn from their wisdom, their ways of being, and their modes of communication? How do we honor their agency and recognize their intrinsic value, not just for what they provide to us, but for their own sake?

These questions are not just theoretical; they are urgently practical. In a world facing unprecedented ecological crises, from climate change to species loss, we need to develop a deeper, more respectful relationship with the non-human world. We need to recognize that our survival is intricately linked to the survival of other forms of life and that their intelligences… their ways of knowing and being… have much to teach us about resilience, adaptability, and sustainability.

Toward a More Inclusive Understanding of Intelligence

Ecological intentionality is more than a philosophical concept… it is a call to action. It urges us to expand our understanding of intelligence to include the vast, diverse, and often mysterious intelligences of the non-human world. It challenges us to see the world not as a backdrop to our human drama but as a vibrant, living community in which we are but one member among many.

By opening ourselves to the possibility of non-human intentionalities, we may discover new ways of thinking, new ways of being, and new ways of living in harmony with the world around us. And in doing so, we may just find the wisdom we need to navigate the uncertain waters of the Anthropocene and beyond.

Podcast: Zane’s Ice Dragon

Sam Harrelson on October 16, 2023

It’s Monday, and we’re not together in class (weird), but we’ll fix that tomorrow on Optimistic Day. Get some rest, take your vitamins, and drink water… big week ahead! Here’s what is happening in Life Science, Environmental Science, and AP Physics!

Podcast: Play in new window | Download (Duration: 4:42 — 3.3MB) | Embed

https://samharrelson.com/thinking Apple Podcasts | RSS | More