The Lord said to Moses, “Stretch out your hand toward heaven so that hail may fall on the whole land of Egypt, on humans and animals and all the plants of the field in the land of Egypt.” Then Moses stretched out his staff toward heaven, and the Lord sent thunder and hail, and fire came down on the earth. And the Lord rained hail on the land of Egypt; there was hail with fire flashing continually in the midst of it, such heavy hail as had never fallen in all the land of Egypt since it became a nation. The hail struck down everything that was in the open field throughout all the land of Egypt, both human and animal; the hail also struck down all the plants of the field, and shattered every tree in the field. Exodus 9:22-25
Here in the South, we have the reputation of going a little insane at the mention of snow. We rush out to buy milk and bread at the slightest hint of a flake of anything frozen. We close schools and offices before anything even falls from the sky. What it really equates to is that we love a good snow day. It's a like a little free vacation. And, who doesn't love a good freebie? The problem is, freebies aren't necessarily "free." If we're smart, we ask, "Where's the catch?"
Today, on this snow day, I worked from home...at least as much as I could given that I had didn't have a lot of the resources or tools I needed to get much accomplished. That means the catch is that I've got a lot more work to do tomorrow. That probably sounds crass to someone living in Boston right now.
I think I've mentioned that I'm taking an Environmental Science course this semester. We've been talking about the "environmental credit card." That means we're using more resources than we can afford to use. As we continue to use these resources, we're putting more CO2 into the atmosphere, killing the trees needed to pull CO2 out of the air, and polluting the ground and water...all of which contributes to climate change. Essentially, we're borrowing from future generations.
We're reading a book in class called, Hot, Flat, and Crowded by Thomas L. Friedman. I just read a passage that seems telling of the cost of our recent weather patterns and of climate change:
Heidi Cullen, the former climate change expert for the Weather Channel, has a compelling way of framing this philosophical issue [of who causes climate change--us or God]. "It used to be that an unseasonably warm day in the middle of winter felt like a gift...But now it feels like we're paying for it." (p. 148)
The weather patterns these days seem to run the extreme. The question really is Are we paying for our sins? It conjures up Old Testament images of a God who poured wrath on a pharaoh who enslaved God's chosen people. It makes us believe that God is pouring out the same kind of wrath on us for ravaging the Earth, God's creation. I think about that as we begin the season of Lent tomorrow on Ash Wednesday, a day that we remember that we are dust and to dust we shall return. It's a time of repentance, a time to reflect on our human-ness, our corporal being. It's a time to turn around and get back on the path that leads to life. I wonder if this time of climate change we're in is a kind of extended (but shortening quickly) period of Lent--a time when the whole of humankind must take a long, hard look at how much our human-ness has harmed the planet.
I don't think God is an Old Testament fire and brimstone kind of God. When we sin, we inflict pain on ourselves. The cost of that sin can be extremely high. What I do believe is that if people of faith will look to the God of love--the God who has already paid the debt for our sin--for strength, courage, and creativity, we can indeed turn this world back onto a path of life and sustainability. God's gift of mercy and grace is a freebie I know doesn't have fine print. I'm praying that we're wise enough to show that kind of compassion to all the creatures (human and non) that now live on this Earth, as well as to the generations who will come after us. The environmental credit card is one I'd like to get out of my wallet.
Here in the South, we have the reputation of going a little insane at the mention of snow. We rush out to buy milk and bread at the slightest hint of a flake of anything frozen. We close schools and offices before anything even falls from the sky. What it really equates to is that we love a good snow day. It's a like a little free vacation. And, who doesn't love a good freebie? The problem is, freebies aren't necessarily "free." If we're smart, we ask, "Where's the catch?"
Today, on this snow day, I worked from home...at least as much as I could given that I had didn't have a lot of the resources or tools I needed to get much accomplished. That means the catch is that I've got a lot more work to do tomorrow. That probably sounds crass to someone living in Boston right now.
I think I've mentioned that I'm taking an Environmental Science course this semester. We've been talking about the "environmental credit card." That means we're using more resources than we can afford to use. As we continue to use these resources, we're putting more CO2 into the atmosphere, killing the trees needed to pull CO2 out of the air, and polluting the ground and water...all of which contributes to climate change. Essentially, we're borrowing from future generations.
We're reading a book in class called, Hot, Flat, and Crowded by Thomas L. Friedman. I just read a passage that seems telling of the cost of our recent weather patterns and of climate change:
Heidi Cullen, the former climate change expert for the Weather Channel, has a compelling way of framing this philosophical issue [of who causes climate change--us or God]. "It used to be that an unseasonably warm day in the middle of winter felt like a gift...But now it feels like we're paying for it." (p. 148)
The weather patterns these days seem to run the extreme. The question really is Are we paying for our sins? It conjures up Old Testament images of a God who poured wrath on a pharaoh who enslaved God's chosen people. It makes us believe that God is pouring out the same kind of wrath on us for ravaging the Earth, God's creation. I think about that as we begin the season of Lent tomorrow on Ash Wednesday, a day that we remember that we are dust and to dust we shall return. It's a time of repentance, a time to reflect on our human-ness, our corporal being. It's a time to turn around and get back on the path that leads to life. I wonder if this time of climate change we're in is a kind of extended (but shortening quickly) period of Lent--a time when the whole of humankind must take a long, hard look at how much our human-ness has harmed the planet.
I don't think God is an Old Testament fire and brimstone kind of God. When we sin, we inflict pain on ourselves. The cost of that sin can be extremely high. What I do believe is that if people of faith will look to the God of love--the God who has already paid the debt for our sin--for strength, courage, and creativity, we can indeed turn this world back onto a path of life and sustainability. God's gift of mercy and grace is a freebie I know doesn't have fine print. I'm praying that we're wise enough to show that kind of compassion to all the creatures (human and non) that now live on this Earth, as well as to the generations who will come after us. The environmental credit card is one I'd like to get out of my wallet.