Chapter 4: Creation Crucified, The Passion of the Earth
From
The Cross in the Midst of Creation: Following Jesus, Engaging the Powers, Transforming the World
by Sharon Delgado
Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. — Matthew 10:29
I am a birdwatcher. I often sit out on our deck watching birds visit our feeders, marveling at those that come year after year and looking up new species so I will recognize them next time they come. When I hear the calls of migrating geese or cranes, I go outside to honor them as they fly in formation overhead. When I am out walking in the woods and spot a bird that I rarely see, I stand watching and listening in awe. In recent years these have included Kingfishers, Flickers, Pileated Woodpeckers, and Great Blue Herons. To me, these birds are messengers from God. At the same time, they have their own lives and agency and are motivated to live “according to their kinds” (Gen 6:20): to fly, to search for food and water, to multiply and care for their young, to ensure that life goes on. If we ignore God’s other- than- human messengers and are blind to their intrinsic value and motivations as sentient beings, we are likely to devalue creation in other ways as well.
Having considered what it means to follow Jesus in the midst of human suffering, in this chapter we expand our perspective to encompass other species and the living earth. In this age of ecological awareness, our understanding of what it means to be human in relationship with the divine must be grounded in an awareness of our profound interdependence with the rest of the created world. Yet we human beings participate in the destruction of the very creation through which God nurtures us and our fellow creatures. As members of the human family and the wider community of life, we share creation’s passion for life as well as creation’s suffering. We share in the passion of the earth.
In the previous chapter, I cited a text on atonement as reconciliation that begins with the words, “So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation” (2 Cor 5:17– 18). The passage makes clear that the scope of reconciliation extends beyond God and the individual to all creation. Other passages that extend reconciliation to the whole creation include Ephesians 1:7–10, 4:17–24; Colossians 3:1–11, 1:19–20; and Galatians 6:12–16. We see this most clearly in Romans 8:18– 26, where creation itself is groaning and laboring for liberation from bondage that is tied to the liberation (salvation) of human beings. These texts speak of God’s action to bring about reconciliation (atonement) as we live into the reality of restored relationships with God, with our neighbors, and with creation itself.
This chapter explores the meaning of the gospel in this time of ecocide, as we face death on a global scale and experience losses that diminish prospects for a future of abundant life. Here we allow concepts such as deep incarnation and new creation to inform our understanding of the word of the cross in the context of the ongoing ruin of the natural world. As we discern the significance of the ecological harm being done and repent for our complicity in such harm, the Holy Spirit enables us to discern what hope in action looks like and to faithfully follow Jesus as we come to terms with the cross in the midst of creation.
Deep Incarnation
“God’s in us and we’re in God, Halleluiah. — Jim and Jeanne Strathdee, “The Spirit in Me Greets the Spirit in You”
Western civilization, including Western Christianity, has been built upon an anthropocentric worldview that has enabled the plundering and despoiling of God’s world. An example for today comes from John McArthur, the megachurch pastor mentioned in chapter 2. In a sermon refuting global warming and supporting the idea of stewardship in order to extract everything we can for the use of human beings, he said, “God intended us to use this planet, to fill this planet for the benefit of man. Never was it intended to be a permanent planet. It is a disposable planet. Christians ought to know that.”
If we see the natural world as intended simply for human use and consumption, we lose sight of the interrelationships with the rest of creation that make us human and deny the spirit of God within us and within all. By discarding our privileged and outdated anthropocentric perspective, we may recognize creation’s intrinsic value and the presence of God in all parts of creation. One way of expressing this is through the concept of deep incarnation.
Many Scripture passages point to the reality of an inner dimension of nature in which all creatures participate. Psalm 19:1 proclaims, “The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.” Job said, “But ask the animals, and they will teach you; the birds of the air, and they will tell you; ask the plants of the earth, and they will teach you; and the fish of the sea will declare to you. Who among all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this?” (Job 12:7– 9). Jesus said, “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father” (Matt 10:29). These passages point to a God who is intimately present throughout creation, not solely to human beings, but to other- than- human beings as well.
Understanding God as immanent is not the same as pantheism, for it also acknowledges the transcendent aspect of God. The spirit of God is deeply present throughout creation but is not confined within creation. In fact, it’s just the opposite, for “in [God] we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). This way of understanding the relationship between God and the physical universe has been called panentheism, which is differentiated from pantheism as follows: “In panentheism, the universal spirit is present everywhere, which at the same time ‘transcends’ all things created. While pantheism asserts that ‘all is God,’ panentheism claims that God is greater than the universe.”[1] The Strathdee hymn quoted above that proclaims “God’s in us and we’re in God, Halleluiah” applies not only to us but to all parts of creation. This is a view of God as all in all, as Ground of Being, Ultimate Reality, Unfathomable Love, not exclusive to any religion. John Wesley referred to this “omnipresent” God as “the Soul of the universe.”
The astounding claim of Christianity is that this God, who both transcends and is immanent within creation, was made known to us in a unique way in Jesus. “God was in Christ,” living a Spirit- infused life, suffering and dying at the hands of the powers, raised to new life by God. The Gospel of John refers to the concept of incarnation when it announces, “The Word became flesh [sarx in Greek] and lived among us” (John 1:14). This emphasizes the coming of God to us in human form in a way that we humans can comprehend. The revelation of Jesus Christ created a paradigm shift in our understanding of divine- human relationships by revealing the all- encompassing love and eternal presence of Emmanuel, which means “God is with us” (Matt 1:23).
The concept of deep incarnation expands on this understanding to encompass all creation as the dwelling place of God. Elizabeth A. Johnson explains, “Deep incarnation understands John’s gospel to be saying that the sarx [flesh] that the Word of God became not only weds Jesus Christ to other human beings in the human species; it also reaches beyond us to join the incarnate one to the whole evolving biological world of living creatures and the cosmic dust of which they are composed.” This idea corrects the misunderstanding that human beings are isolated individuals and reconnects us to the network of interrelationships that make us human. Not even Jesus was separate from the web of relationships that constitute human and all other life on planet earth, the very web that is being undone today.
The Word became not only human flesh but all flesh and dwelt not only among human beings but among all parts of creation not just since the time of Jesus of Nazareth but eternally, throughout all time and space. This expanded view reveals the presence of the Spirit in the depths of matter, the love that exists at the heart of the universe, the divine presence in all creation, the mind of Christ that binds us all together, and the love of God that even death cannot conquer. This idea that God is made flesh in myriad forms affirms the intrinsic value of creation as a dwelling place for God.
The Existential Significance of Our Time
“Grasping the cross in a more biblical light will allow an ecological view to emerge that sees God accompanying creation through time with mercy, which in our day encompasses a planet in peril.”
— Elizabeth A. Johnson, Creation and the Cross
On the morning of my forty- fifth high school reunion, sitting on the bank of the Feather River, just three blocks from my childhood home, I realized more deeply than ever the significance of this time in which we live and the dangers we face. I had returned to my small Northern California hometown of Oroville not just to attend the reunion that evening but to say a final goodbye to my mother and sprinkle the last of her ashes. We had sprinkled most of them as a family some weeks before.
It was a sunny fall day with a cool breeze. As I sat on the shore in partial shade, the sunlight created diamond patterns reflected in the river. Salmon were jumping, traveling upstream. Sitting there on the river bank, I thanked God for my mother’s life. She had also grown up in Oroville and had struggled through a difficult childhood during the Great Depression. She had returned to Oroville after my parents’ divorce and had worked hard to raise my sister, brother, and me. As I reflected on her life, my thoughts expanded to my father and to my grandparents and great- grandparents on both sides, through generations of ancestors going back, generations passing, all of them working and sacrificing to keep life going forward despite so many hardships; then to my own children, grandchildren, and generations of the future.
As I sat there watching the salmon jumping, reflecting on the love that motivates us to do whatever it takes to ensure that life goes on, it occurred to me that salmon, too, work to keep their generations going forward. They fight their way upstream, ending up battered and bloodied in their attempts to go back to their spawning grounds. In fact, all animals struggle to survive, reproduce, thrive, and make sure life goes on, despite the incalculable suffering inherent in the ongoing cycle of life and death as we know it here on earth. Looking at the mixed forest around the river, I thought about how even plants have survived and multiplied through natural selection over eons of evolutionary time. So much energy and sacrifice and passion for life have gone into the process of evolution of the interconnected life- forms here on planet earth since it was formed along with the rest of the solar system about 4.5 billion years ago.
I was struck by the realization that God, who brought the universe into being and who exists even at the heart of matter, has invested so much love in bringing life here on earth to fruition and abundance. It was in this mindset that I sprinkled the last few pinches of my mom’s ashes onto the riverbank. I sat and prayed and said the words of the Ash Wednesday liturgy acknowledging our mortality: “Remember, O mortal, that you are dust, and to dust you will return.” There was a finality to this ritual of saying goodbye to my mother, although I continued to feel an unbroken connection with her, as I do even today.
Then I picked up a rock from the riverbank, a smooth oblong rock that fit perfectly in my hand. It was such a contrast to the ashes, so solid and enduring. I wondered how long the rock might have been in this very place. Maybe it had been traveling down the river and had just arrived this morning. Maybe it had been here on this bank since my childhood, or even since my mom’s childhood. The rock in my hand got me thinking about geological time, the fifteen- billion- year process of the evolution of the universe.
What an amazing universe we live in! Scientific evidence continually reveals new aspects of the universe, showing us that it is complex, interconnected, and mysterious beyond imagining. The vast distance between stars revealed by contemporary astronomy corresponds to the spaciousness in the inner dimensions of matter as revealed by quantum physics. All these wonders and more were contained for me in that precious rock, which I still hold often when I pray. The universe is a wonder, and the fact that we are alive today is a wonder as well.
In previous generations, no matter how difficult things were, people at least trusted that the natural cycles of life would go on, that life on earth would continue, that generations would come and go. We cannot take that for granted anymore. Now the damage being done to creation is having generational effects, as rising global temperatures, weather- related disasters, extreme extraction of resources, and harmful industrial development are driving people in vulnerable areas from their homes and casting a shadow of foreboding over humanity’s future. Destruction of ecosystems is having evolutionary effects, as many species try to adapt to the changing climate or are driven to extinction. Animals and plants are moving up to higher elevations as temperatures rise. Coral reefs are dying. Climate change is even impacting what goes on in geological time, as the hydrologic cycle is altered, the jet stream and polar vortex patterns are distorted, seasons change, sea levels rise, and glacial melt creates changes in the earth’s axis.
We are at an in-between time at this critical juncture in the history of life on earth, a time of danger and a time of choice. Many people are confused, despairing, and do not know which way to turn. Will we go along passively with the forces carrying us inexorably toward ecological and social catastrophe, or will we as a species find the courage to actively resist this momentum and take the actions necessary to bring systemic transformation? Will we preserve and pass on the wealth of nature and our varied cultures to future generations, or will they inherit a wasteland? This is the primary spiritual issue of our time.
God’s presence extends in and through the vastness of all time and space, and here we are, born into this particular time and place. This is significant. The earth is our home— the only home we have. This is our time— the only time we have in which to act on behalf of life. In the words of Paul, “‘At an acceptable time I have listened to you, and on a day of salvation I have helped you.’ See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation!” (2 Cor 6:2).
We certainly need to be saved. But what does salvation look like in this context? It cannot mean simply saving individual people out of this world and leaving everyone else to live on a progressively degraded earth. Surely the God who created abundant life wants it to continue and flourish. Salvation must include release from the apathy, moral confusion, and hopelessness that characterize our time. It must mean personal transformation that gives us hope and equips us for loving action in the world, for God’s intention is the liberation and reconciliation of all creation.
Ecocide: Undoing Creation
“The work of the demonic powers in the Fall is the undoing of Creation.”— William Stringfellow, An Ethic for Christians and Other Aliens in a Strange Land
Because of my love for birds, it hit me hard when migratory birds in the southwestern United States were caught up in an “unprecedented” die- off in the fall of 2020. Hundreds of thousands of birds are estimated to have died in an area that includes five states. Wildlife biologists at universities and at state and federal agencies gathered carcasses of the varied species, “from warblers to woodpeckers, hummingbirds to loons,” and discovered that the dead birds were emaciated due to long- term “severe starvation.” They suffered an overall loss of body fat, severely shrunken muscles controlling their wings, blood in their intestinal tracts, and kidney failure.
The cause of starvation was the scarcity of water and food (both seeds and insects) caused by a severe drought in the Southwest. The birds began their migration in poor health and were met by an “unseasonable cold snap,” which led to many birds getting caught in the snow and ice storm and freezing to death. Some birds may have used up vital energy stores and increased their exhaustion by altering their migration paths to avoid smoke plumes from wildfires. Jon Hayes, executive director of Audubon Southwest, said that birds in the Southwest survive “on the margins” and that the region’s rising temperatures, larger and more frequent wildfires, and stronger storms add further stress. the drought- induced starvation that left the birds emaciated, the out- of- control wildfires that may have altered their migration patterns, and the “unseasonable” cold snap that ultimately killed them are all consistent with weather- related disasters caused or exacerbated by climate change.7
Jesus assures us that God’s caring concern extends even to sparrows, yet this mass die- off of birds brings us face- to- face with the suffering of our other- than- human companions here on earth. Surely God not only celebrates and declares “good” the abundance and diversity of creation but grieves its loss when it is diminished and as human beings stand by unwilling or unable to act. Some have used the term ecocide to characterize the current depletion of wildlife, accelerating loss of species, destruction of ecosystems that sustain life, and advancing climate change. Since “in [God] we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28), this ecocide takes place within God, destroying relationship and tearing apart the fabric of life. Does not God experience this rending of relationship in God’s very being? Surely God weeps for the extinction of species, the polluting of our waters, the warming of the planet that is taking place in our time. The cross stands in the midst of creation.
Today we face the scandal, the stumbling block, the horror not only of Jesus’s crucifixion two thousand years ago but also of creation crucified in our day. The ecological balance we have enjoyed throughout human history, with its predictable natural processes and a relatively stable climate, is being disrupted. The interdependent web of life that not only sustains but also constitutes human life is being unraveled, accompanied by simultaneous social breakdown. Indeed, scientists say that human encroachment on wild nature, climate change, and the destruction of ecosystems set the stage for Covid- 19 and other viruses to mutate and spread from animals to humans, while global transportation systems allow such viruses to quickly spread around the world and become pandemics.
This does not bode well for humans or for other life- forms with whom we share the earth. Life is being diminished—signs of death are all around. Many people around the world are grieving for the profound loss that this represents.
In addition to facing the loss that comes with the diminishment of creation’s ability to sustain life and to reflect God’s glory, we must also face our complicity, because we know that the ecological devastation being visited upon the earth could be prevented if we humans had the communal will to do so. Although many of us try as individuals to treat creation with the respect it deserves, we participate in institutions and systems that plunder the earth, leaving it despoiled and desecrated. Those of us who live as beneficiaries of industrial civilization carry a moral burden that previous generations have not carried, and we are aware that our choices will impact generations far into the future. We are complicit with the institutional powers in what William Stringfellow called “undoing creation.” For the sake of all we have ever loved and for the sake of our souls, we must come to terms with this dilemma.
This is not taking place in a vacuum, nor is it part of an inevitable natural process. Rather, it is the direct and predictable result of a human- constructed global system of institutional powers that has grown beyond human control and has taken on a life of its own. Its underlying assumptions, institutions, and operating systems function efficiently to enslave humans in their service and devour the gifts of the earth to bring profit, prestige, and power to the elite few. The air, water, land, and stable climate necessary for sustaining life are being destroyed by the institutional imperatives of today’s corporate- dominated global empire. This cannot be the plan or design of the God of love, the God of creation. Creation itself is being crucified. In this dying of earth’s life systems, her children, both human and other- than- human, suffer. Songs of praise become cries of pain and lament, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matt 27:46), cried Jesus. In our distress, our hearts might cry out: “God help us! Has God forsaken us? Where is God?”
But God has not forsaken us. God is right here: experiencing the desecration of the persecuted and tortured earth, suffering in and with earth’s creatures, experiencing our forsakenness. God weeps for the harm done, because God experiences it all from the inside— the exhaustion of the weakened sparrow that flies into a snowstorm, the terror of the polar bear who discovers she cannot swim the distance to the next ice floe, the confusion of the monarch butterfly, whose migratory homes are being destroyed, the loneliness of the last golden toad who croaks unceasingly for a mate. God experiences the alarm of people in island nations being subsumed by rising seas and the devastation of families whose crops fail and children die because of increasing drought. God experiences the desolation of young people who realize that beloved species are dying and who want a future of abundant life. And God is with us, too, as we experience the sorrow and the burden of complicity that characterize our time.
As we consider creation’s plight, we may be stuck at the foot of the cross, witnessing the manifold crucifixions that are taking place in our time. There is not a path that we can take of our own volition to get from cross to resurrection, for that requires God’s action. The only way out of this horror is through— that is, through facing the reality of the damage, the institutional forces that are driving it, our complicity with those forces, and our call to follow in the direction of a more hopeful future. To the degree that we are willing to face and mourn the extent of creation’s suffering, in the presence of God who is with us in all suffering, we are saved from denial. To the degree that we are motivated and enlivened by the Spirit, we are open to truth and are saved from both fear and manipulation by the demonic powers.
Still, this is not the end of the story. For the God who creates is also the God who saves, and all creation is included in the saving grace of God.
The God Who Creates Is the God Who Saves
I lift up my eyes to the hills— from where will my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. — Psalm 121:1– 2
As we look to God for help in the midst of the multiple crises facing our human family and the rest of creation, it is clear that we don’t have the wisdom or power to bring about the profound changes that are required. Still, as followers of the crucified and risen Jesus, we are called to live by the Spirit and do our part to bring about creation’s healing and transformation.
Theologians who seek to be faithful to this call have been working for decades to articulate a theology of creation that will motivate creation care. The biblical term stewardship is often used to express human responsibility to care for the natural world, based on the idea that all things belong to God and that we do not own land or any other part of creation but are merely exhibiting stewardship over it on behalf of God. Biblical passages that reinforce calls for environmental stewardship include the claim that “the earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it” (Ps 24:1) and the statement that “the Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it” (Gen 2:15), thus portraying the human vocation as stewards of the land.
However, in this time of extreme ecological devastation, the concept of environmental stewardship has limited value. Although this well- meaning concept calls for responsibility and care for the earth, it reinforces the anthropocentric concept of human dominion over the natural world (Gen 1:26) and leaves intact the view that humans are somehow above and separate from the natural world. It portrays the idea of a universe created for and centered on human beings, which devalues the rest of creation and sanctifies hierarchical ideas that have led to widespread ecocide.
There are other scriptural themes that can help guide us as we seek to follow Jesus in this time of ecological destruction. Psalm 104 offers a vision of interrelated ecosystems in which God provides sustenance (food, water, and habitat) to all parts of creation, including human beings. Psalm 148 presents human beings, along with all other members of the community of life, praising God together. Laws in Leviticus 2 call for every seventh year to be a Sabbath for the land and animals, during which time the land is to be left fallow and the animals free to graze. The Hebrew prophets often linked the fruitfulness of the land to faithfulness to God and pointed to both human suffering and ecological destruction as caused by the nation’s idolatry and injustice. Jeremiah does this repeatedly, as when he says, “How long will the land mourn, and the grass of every field wither? For the wickedness of those who live in it the animals and the birds are swept away, and because people said, ‘[God] is blind to our ways’” (Jer 12:4). Such passages point to a degree of understanding about the interrelatedness and interdependence of all living things, the inherent value and rights of animals and land (implying the value of water, air, and other gifts of creation), and the call to environmental justice for the sake of people and the earth.
Most people with whom Jesus interacted were Jews who lived close to the land, praying and working for a fruitful harvest and offering thanks and a portion back to God through their taxes and offerings to the temple. Jesus drew on metaphors from the natural world and agrarian life to impart teachings his followers could relate to about God’s loving relationship with human beings and the rest of creation. He pointed to the God who feeds the birds of the air and clothes the grass with the lilies of the fields as the same God we can trust to care for us. Likewise, he used seeds to illustrate the mysteries of the reign of God (Matt 13:3– 9, 25– 30, 33) and the power of faith (Mark 4:30), and he used the images of vine and vineyard to demonstrate human connection with God in Christ (John 15:1–10). Jesus spent much of his time outdoors. He was “with the wild beasts” during his forty days in the wilderness (Mark 1:13). He often slept outside. He observed that “foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head” (Luke 9:58). In that ancient culture, people’s lives were embedded in the cycles of nature; they were aware of the natural world in ways those of us who live with modern conveniences have perhaps forgotten.
For Christians who have been working to incorporate concerns about creation into church ministries, the above themes are familiar. The hope is that by recognizing the intrinsic value of creation, we will be motivated to treat the natural world with the care that it deserves. By realizing that we human beings are part of the interrelated and interdependent community of life, we will be more likely to protect its integrity. By allowing science to inform our understanding and complement Scripture, we will awaken to the story of the origins and nature of the universe revealed by science, and awe will replace our utilitarian approach to the natural world. By seeing how vulnerable people suffer most from ecological devastation, compassion will move us to action. These are our hopes as we seek to craft a message that will motivate churches to practice creation care in a significant way.
This is important work. Awakening to both the glory and the destruction of creation is essential. However, simply knowing or caring about something does not always change human behavior, especially when it seems apparent that our actions will not make much difference in the overall outcome. No matter how faithful we are in making lifestyle changes or reducing our church’s carbon footprint or hosting Earth Day celebrations or even forwarding emails calling for just and effective environmental policies, we know that such limited actions will not be sufficient to bring about the scale of change required to arrest and reverse the ecological devastation that is taking place.
Eco-theology and creation care are not enough. We cannot bypass the pain of the cross in the midst of creation with the soft message of creation care. Creation theology and a theology of the cross belong together. As we weather the storms of pandemic, ecological degradation, inequity and injustice, famine, displacement, violence, war, and the literal storms of a rapidly destabilizing climate, the word of the cross must proclaim the gospel in a way that is relevant for today, focusing on the story of Jesus, the ongoing suffering of Christ in creation, the powers responsible for Jesus’s death and for creation’s devastation today, and God’s redemptive power to bring life out of death and to make a way where there is no way, sometimes through us.
We who are followers of Jesus are called to participate in God’s saving actions in our time. Jesus said, “Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation” (Mark 16:15). For it to be relevant today, the gospel must offer hope in action that meets the existential challenges we face. We cannot settle for empty hope that keeps us on the current road toward annihilation, leaving us in the role of passive bystanders as Christ is crucified in creation. Real hope in our time must be embodied hope, where we are empowered to take concrete actions as participants in the ongoing process of God’s reconciling work, which today must include resisting the harm being inflicted by the powers on creation and doing what we can to foster human well-being, regeneration of earth’s natural systems, and a future of abundant life.
This requires us to face and repent of our participation in sinful institutions and systems that drive policies, perpetuate damage, and accelerate disaster. Such realizations can be difficult. They may move those of us who are privileged away from a somewhat romantic or even self-righteous view about our caring relationship with creation, or from our attempts to justify ourselves, by exposing the hypocrisy of how we benefit from social, ecological, and political structures that cause immeasurable harm to people and the earth. It would, perhaps, be easier to stay in denial or just focus on our personal lives. But if we refuse to explore the harm caused by today’s institutionalized powers, we collaborate with them. On the other hand, by naming and challenging the many ways they crucify Christ today, we help bring to light their moral illegitimacy and point in the direction of a transformed world.
One way that churches are engaged in this work today is through their participation in the struggles for environmental and climate justice. Since the early 1980s, several US denominations have taken on the cause of environmental justice, thus merging concerns for creation with a commitment to racial and economic justice. Such efforts were initiated by Black churches and communities that were directly impacted by the disproportionate number of toxic waste dumps and polluting industries placed in their communities.
Today a number of churches and other faith communities have extended these efforts by emphasizing climate justice, which links alleviating climate change with justice for people disproportionately harmed by its impacts, justice for people in communities polluted by the extraction and processing of fossil fuels (usually Indigenous people and people of color), and justice for young people whose long- term prospects are bleak without a change of course. A primary challenge for churches is to join with the movement for climate justice in solidarity with people on the front lines of these struggles and to take a stand in opposition to the powers that perpetuate the harm.
According to the most recent report of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), average global temperatures have risen 1.1 degrees Celsius, or 2 degrees Fahrenheit, since the dawn of the Industrial Revolution, largely caused by the burning of fossil fuels. The report says we must limit this warming to under 1.5 degrees Celsius to prevent the most catastrophic impacts, which means cutting greenhouse gas emissions in half globally by 2030 and to net- zero by 2050, which will require rapid and far- reaching changes in all aspects of society. Or in a slogan from the climate justice movement, “System change not climate change.”
Climate justice advocates demand policies based on the science that will help bring about systemic change. Such policies include ending fossil fuels subsidies that the International Monetary Fund says amount globally to $10 million per minute, providing “loss and damage” payments to poor countries that have been impacted most and have contributed least to climate change, immediately transitioning to justly and sustainably sourced renewable power, and banning permits for long- lasting fossil fuel infrastructure projects like pipelines and offshore oil drilling rigs that will cause pollution and keep the fossil fuel party going for decades. The bottom line is to keep fossil fuels in the ground.
The problem is that there are powerful interests working to keep the dominant system intact. They propose complex carbon- trading schemes and postpone action based on the hope of untested carbon- capture and geoengineering technologies. They promise to move to net- zero domestically sometime in the future while continuing to increase fossil fuel exports. Many government and industry leaders see the magnitude of the dangers but won’t go against the conventional wisdom of today’s system of corporate- dominated globalization, which is built around profit, powered by fossil fuels, and backed by police and military power.
Meanwhile, the movement for climate justice is strong and growing. These struggles are often led by people who are marginalized in official decision- making processes— people from island and low- lying nations experiencing a sea- level rise, drought- stricken nations facing famine, frontline communities being turned into sacrifice zones by fossil fuel extraction and processing, Indigenous people whose lands are being polluted by pipelines or confiscated to plant tree farms to supply polluting corporations with carbon credits, and young people whose lives and futures are at stake— and they are supported by environmental groups, labor unions, and other civil society groups, including churches. Together, these groups make up the global movement for climate justice. They call for climate change to be treated as the emergency that it is and for governments to take immediate action. Participants are saying not just no to fossil fuels but yes to a transformed world, and they have plans to get us there.
These are two completely different approaches to the climate crisis: an approach that leaves our market- based global system intact and an approach that calls for a widespread social and economic transformation. They represent two conflicting paradigms and opposing worldviews.
Perhaps the answers to our search for climate solutions will come in ways that we least expect them. Leaders in struggles for climate justice are not high- status official representatives of the domination system, nor are they wealthy or powerful according to the wisdom of this world. But it may be that these will be the very people who will save us from climate catastrophe by opening our eyes to another worldview, by pressing for systemic change, and by demanding commonsense solutions that will keep fossil fuels in the ground. They may be considered “weak and foolish” by the world’s standards, but they are organizing and networking together to build grassroots movements that have the power necessary to bring about the widespread social, political, and ecological changes that are necessary to transition to a more just, compassionate, peaceful, and ecologically regenerative world. Churches could amplify these movements by joining such campaigns and coalitions as respectful allies. In the words of climate justice organizer Bill McKibben, “The main way to counter the malign power of vested interests is to meet organized money with organized people.”
The word of the cross, as weak and foolish as it may seem, allows us to glimpse a new order, an alternative to the dominant culture and its values based instead on the compassion, justice, inclusivity, and nonviolence that characterized Jesus’s life and (as we now know it must be) on care and concern for all creation. Martin Khor of the Third World Network speaks of something similar when he says that there are two paradigms at work in our world today: the top- down system of corporate globalization, backed by violence, and an emerging alternative system that is community based, people friendly, earth centered, and nonviolent. He points out that as we work within the dominant system to make it fairer, more just, and less ecologically destructive, we must also nurture seeds of hope to bring alive the second paradigm and “infuse it into the first paradigm as a kind of transition.” This worldview offers an alternative to the domination system that is consistent with traditional and contemporary Indigenous views and is supported by the understanding of God as immanent within creation. It recalls Jesus’s proclamation of the reign of God and its contemporary secular counterpart that proclaims that “another world is possible.”
The compassion and passion for the reign of God that motivated Jesus may yet save us, as his risen Spirit lives and loves through us and empowers all who give themselves to this crucial work. As we become willing, God breathes new life into us, inspiring us to speak truth to power and empowering us to participate in God’s reconciling work to all creation and in the ongoing story of the universe.
New Creation: Reconciling the World in Christ
“In the midst of suffering and death— be it individual, social, or ecological— the promise given to the Earth community is that life in God will reign. So speaks the resurrection.” — Cynthia Moe- Lobeda, “A Theology of the Cross for the Uncreators”
What is the good news for us today, in the midst of the passion of the earth and the suffering of Christ in creation? We return here to the first words of the text with which we began this chapter: “So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation” (2 Cor 5:17). This hopeful text speaks of atonement as reconciliation that extends to all creation. What does the concept of new creation mean in light of our suffering and dying earth?
The concept of new creation has been used to illustrate a hopeful vision of a renewed earth that may motivate people to take seriously our call to care for creation. One way that Christians have interpreted this concept is to relate it to the afterlife, as an assurance that no matter how bad it gets here on earth, no matter how many ecosystems are destroyed or how many species go extinct, God will ultimately reconstitute creation in a renewed and even better way. But such ideas bring little comfort to those of us who love life here on earth as we witness the escalating speed and efficiency of the institutional engines of death that are destroying it.
Of course, there are biblical texts that support the idea of all things ultimately being summed up in God at the end of time. For instance, Ephesians 1:10 refers to God’s plan for reconciliation in “the fullness of time,” to gather up all things in heaven and on earth in Christ. Acts 3:21 speaks of a time of “universal restoration.” These are reassuring passages about the promise of resurrection and the renewal of creation at the end of time. Such passages offer us freedom from the fear of death and courage to face life’s challenges.
But the biblical concept of new creation does not just symbolize hope that at the end of the world, God will reconstitute it in a new form. Rather, it symbolizes hope for the future of this world. Jürgen Moltmann said, “The new creation is not a different creation. It is the new creation of this deranged world. Eternal life is not a different life. It is the resurrection of this life into the life of God. . . . So the kingdom of God means that this world will be different and will be born anew out of violence and injustice to justice, righteousness and peace.” These ideas of reconciliation and new creation reflect Jesus’s vision of the reign of God.
As extinctions become more numerous, climate change accelerates, and the powers assert themselves in ever more ecologically destructive ways, the biblical concept of new creation illustrates a spiritual reality that can be experienced and lived into. As followers of Jesus, we are already part of the new creation here and now, as is made clear in the text above. We are already part of a new creation because we are in Christ.
As reconciled people who are empowered as participants in God’s saving work in our time, we are called to reach out with the message of reconciliation not only for individuals but for creation as well. This path is costly. Carrying the message of reconciliation must include challenging dehumanizing institutional idols that are undoing creation and working for systemic change in ways that enable people to flourish. In this process, we are given a new orientation toward life and courage to rise even when faced with seemingly insurmountable odds.
Following Jesus enables us to recognize the glory of God in creation, to live in reconciled relationships, to comfort those who suffer, to stand in solidarity against oppressive powers, to allow the love that we have received to flow through us, to acknowledge that all creation exists within the circle of God’s care, and to take actions that embody hope for the future and are proportional to the challenges we face. This is atonement. This is salvation: to live into the reality of the new creation.