Just as classism, sexism, and racism provide ideological undergirdings for the oppression of people on the basis of class, gender, and race, so the destruction of the ecosystem is undergirded by the ideology of naturism. Naturism is a way of thinking and dwelling that places the human species at the top of a hierarchy in which other species are relegated to the status of objects to be exploited. In the hierarchy of being, the human being is at the top of the holy order and other objects are assigned meaning only as they serve the purposes of human beings. Naturism is the ideology that undergirds our genocidal acts against nature.
- Eleazar S. Fernandez, Reimagining the Human: Theological Anthropology in
Response To Systemic Evil - (a must read for anyone trying to understand how God,
humanity, classism, sexism, racism, and ecocide are interconnected. Not an
easy read, but a necessary read all who feel called to a justice ministry and a just life)
It is funny how the simplest of concepts can unlock profound revelations. The past two weeks we have been engaged in substantive discussions round the role of nature in Christian theology and life - is it just the stage on which God and humanity act (merely a backdrop), or is the relationship less mechanistic and more vital? Instead of seeing ourselves as separate from nature, can we accept that we are nature - we share a common creation story and the same basic building blocks of life with trees and butterflies and elephant seals and roses and algae - we are part of the web of life, not the master of it. Can we give up our anthropocentric (and androcentric) illusion in favor of a different approach to understanding our place in the cosmos?
I left early this morning to get to Muir Woods before the crowds descended in tour buses. I arrived before the Park Attendants opened up the ticket booth, and looked forward to some silence and stillness in what is left of a beautiful, old growth forest. Ample benches dotted the trail, so I had many places from which to sit and meditate on the beauty of the forest. I noticed that at first the forest seemed to absorb the noise of the visitors (clearly the idea of communing with nature in silence was only on my agenda today). It was hard work, but for the first 45 minutes the forest managed to absorb the onslaught of shouting, talking on cell phones, endless conversations about all manner of thing - all while people engaged in behaviors such as checking emails (while walking on the trail), power-walking on the trail (heads down, watching what was right in front of them), and loudly debating where to go for brunch after getting the trail "done" as quickly as possible. Some people stopped and read the trail instructive signs - some people read them out loud. The one sign that was almost uniformly missed was the one asking people to be quiet in Cathedral Grove - where I was sitting. Lots of people took photographs - some posted them on Facebook immediately and others in their group watched their phones to see when they would "get" the picture of the tree that was right in front of them. I found myself with a mixture of emotions including incredulity, annoyance, some frustration, curiosity, some pleasure (it is nice to see people happy together), hope (when people would stop long enough to notice the trees) but sadness (as they looked at their pictures of the trees on Facebook instead of actually looking at the trees).
There came a time (around 8:45 am) when the forest could no longer absorb the presence of the people, and it was like a loud speaker was turned on full volume. When I got to the parking lot and saw the row of tour buses, I understood why - our ecosystem can only absorb so much...an important lesson to remember.
The drive from Muir Woods to Stinson Beach gives breathtaking views of the ocean. The bad-good news is that you dare not look too long lest you mow down a cyclist (very narrow roads). The good news is that I think I saw more cyclists today than motorists - nice to see folks doing their part for the environment, even if they sometimes show contempt for motorists and gesture in ways that I haven't seen since high school. Maybe one day I can join them and ride the roads on a bike - I've now had the refresher course for conversing with motorists through sign language.
The beach was lovely and warm - I prefer Drake's Beach (where I was yesterday), but Stinson was ok. The roar of the ocean was the dominant sound for the first hour - and then the human population swelled and out-roared the sea. I found myself torn between watching the surf (which was enchanting) and watching adults with their back turned to the sea as they watched things on their cell phones. Beach blanket, cooler, ipad. Children playing in the sand, parents on their iphones - not talking, but looking at data. People walking along the beach with a phone in their hand and their eyes glued to it - again and again and again. Wow. Again, a mixture of emotions - joy over the beauty of creation and pleasure at seeing adults plbut deep curiosity over what was on those silly phones that was more beautiful than the Pacific Ocean on a beautiful sunny day?
Once the sea was out-roared by the humans, I headed for the car and drove towards Pt. Reyes - only to be surprised by a "haul out" of elephant seals in a nondescript shallow area of a estuary. I pulled off the road, rolled down the window and sat for about 30 minutes watching the seal pups through my binoculars. They were incredible! Cars and cyclists whizzed by as I sat and watched these beautiful creatures. Then I found my way to Sir Francis Drake Blvd. which is the road back to San Anselmo. A few miles along is Samuel P Taylor State Park, which is almost always quiet. I paid my fee and drove as far in as I could and parked by a stand of tall trees. No one else was around. I sat in silence with the trees around me, the sound of the Lagunitas Creek passing by, and the ever present sound of cars from the road. But the trees were able to absorb the sound - it was lovely. A moth/butterfly caught my eye - it was fun to watch. After about a half hour, I said goodbye to my tree friends and headed back to read some more of Eleazar's challenging book.
What does it mean to be part of the web of life, instead of being the center of it? Can we humans accept that the universe does not revolve around us, and that we have a calling to embrace our true place in the cosmos? If we see ourselves as nature (instead of seeing nature as something we visit and photograph and post pictures of on Facebook) does that free us to work creatively and cooperatively with nature - with creation - with God who is embodied in nature? We treat the "other" (be it the poor, people of color, women, nature) with a level of proprietary ambivalence - if the "other" meets my needs and serves me, it is useful; otherwise, it is useless. This thinking says that trees are useful for what they can do for me - be it paper products or entertainment, or absorbing the excess CO2 my lifestyle emits. They serve me by giving me more oxygen. Can I grow to the point that I see the intrinsic value in trees simply because they are trees?
The linking Fernandez does of classism, sexism, racism and naturism makes a bold proclamation - it is all of one piece. Each impacts the other - no "ism" exists in isolation. The good news is that the theory of simultaneity states that acting in one area also impacts the others - a thought that brings hope. But before we can act to address the "isms," we must understand our role in perpetuating them.
The sun has set, and I have yet to pull the shades on the window that looks out at the big trees, and the hillside that is a grazing place for the deer visitors who one day were my lunch buddies. They came back today - late afternoon. But only four. I stopped what I was doing (reading Fernandez) to be with them. To notice them; to respect them. What if I treated the created world (including all humans) with the same respect?
The common story also helps us understand that though we may be different, as others are different, we are also intrinsically related and interdependent. Individuality (particularity) is an important feature of this common story, but we are also connected to the whole. We are not "self-made being," but we belong to the web of life. We cannot totally separate ourselves from the world of nature, and we do so only at our own peril. What happens to the world, happens to us, for the elements that are in the cosmos and the air that we breathe are connected with the elements of our bodies. (Fernandez,
Reimagining the Human, p 172).
To think these thoughts, to see these things and not change and grow would be sin. God, save me from the sin of indifference and from believing the lie that claims that the actions of one person are insufficient to bring about change.
And all the trees and deer and moths and mosquitoes, and one woman sitting at her computer join voices and say, "Amen."
Thinking of a few small changes,
Kim
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