From Medieval Irish Lore comes a story of an encounter
between a young man on a walk and an old man struggling to plant trees
beside his house. "What are you doing?" the young man asked. When the
old man replied, "Planting fruit trees," the young man responded, "But
you'll see no fruit from these trees in your lifetime." "True," the old
man answered, "but the fruit I've enjoyed came from trees planted by
those who came before me. I'm planting trees for those who come after
me." I'd like to age like that.
Nancy
and I were attracted to our home by the beautiful trees that lined the
street and surrounded the houses. The Emerald Ash Borer, age, and wind
storms claim several of those trees annually; yet, most of our neighbors
replace them with ornamental trees or nothing. The cooler air, abundant
wildlife, and picturesque scenes we enjoy may not linger for those who
follow us. That saddens me.
In
"The Seven Pillars of Creation: The Bible, Science, and the Ecology of
Wonder," Hebrew Bible Professor William P. Brown contrasts and connects
biblical creation stories with the fruits of scientific discovery and
exploration. A conclusion he draws in the closing pages provides an
intriguing context for my first two paragraphs. After noting the
negative impact of human patterns of consumption on our ecosystem and
pointing to a few ways to become more environmentally friendly, Brown
declares, "... [humanity] cannot live by science alone. Science can
explain the crisis ...; it can even suggest ways to mitigate it. But
science cannot bring about the repentance, indeed conversion, necessary
to chart a new way of life. It does not provide a compelling warrant for
acknowledging the intrinsic value of life or its sanctity." As my
students used to say, "That'll preach."
We
all received blessings from those who traveled before us. Yes, we
received some bane as well and yes, we exerted effort to accept and
build on what we received. Yet, we depended on those who traveled before
us, and generations yet to come depend on us. Those who deem all that
is a mere cosmological accident may have no compelling reason to take
that seriously. Those who deem all that is a gift of God have a
decidedly different perspective.
A
mature, leafy tree produces as much oxygen in a season as ten people
inhale in a year. Planting a tree expresses gratitude for what we have
received and repentance for any negative impact we have had. Large-scale
livestock operations degrade land, air, and water. A recent NPR article
noted that our consumption of a quarter-pound hamburger presently
requires 6.7 pounds of grain and forage, 52.8 gallons of water, 74.5
square feet of land, and 1,036 btus of fossil fuel energy. Going
meatless one day each week expresses gratitude for our many food choices
and conversion to new life. Investigating all of our patterns of
consumption can lead to similar gratitude, repentance, and conversion.
Scientists are doing their part. For the glory of God and for the good
of the earth and the communities we form on it, it's time for people of
faith to keep up.
Yes,
I drive a pickup truck. Yet, a recent study suggested that a carnivore
driving a Prius has a more negative environmental impact than a vegan
driving a Hummer. While God's drawing me into conversion, I'm working on
gratitude and repentance.
Grace and Peace,
LP
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