Happy Earth Day!

I hope you get to embrace it by taking a hike–or a travel mug; biking to work, or upgrading to paperless billing–however you like to celebrate the day!

Last month, before all of this quarantine business got underway–which is  having a strangely positive impact on the planet– I was invited to speak on the spiritual dynamic of stewardship in terms of faith. I was over the moon to make this connection because for as much Theology as we have on the subject, very little time or attention is committed to what I feel is a hallmark of our faith tradition:

Stewardship as care for creation

Parishes are superb about educating on the tenets of stewardship and the three T’s: Time/Talent/Treasure. Each of these are paramount in carrying out the mission of the Reign of God on Earth. What is less clear is our shy approach to including ourselves among the stewards of creation itself.

Scripture is chalk-full of references to what it is to steward, well. Beginning in Genesis in the first Creation account, and sprinkled throughout the Gospels and Epistles, it is very clear what a steward is– and what kind of steward with which we might wish to be associated.

• Genesis 2: 15— The LORD God then took the man and settled him in the garden of Eden, to cultivate and care for it.
• Luke’s accounting of the Unjust Steward
• 1 Peter 4:10— As each one has received a gift, use it to serve one another as good stewards of God’s varied grace.

The long view

The Catholic Church has a rich history of naming creation as a gift of the Creator, and thereby worth respecting. Saints, Popes, theologians, mystics, and lay people alike, have found the subject worth contemplating.  Most traditionally this has played out by emphasizing the dignity of the human person as image bearers of the Creator, but the dignity of the human person cannot be singularly extracted from the reflection of the Creator in all things.

The glory of God is reflected in the majesty of mountain ranges, the wonder of  the circulatory system, the mystery of photosynthesis, the perfection found inside a beehive, the power of ocean tides, the transformation in metamorphosis,  the unpredictability of weather, and the fantastic diversity of rain forest life.

To honor humanity as the sole communicator of God’s majesty is both limiting and hubris. This is not to say that humanity does not have a particular role as image-bearers in the world, it is to say however, that as such we are invited to cultivate the gifts given in a way that honors the Giver of said gifts.

In the Mass, we hear:

“For, although you have no need of our praise, yet our thanksgiving is itself your gift, since our praises add nothing to your greatness.”

In these terms I cannot but imagine that in the same way our very praise is a gift offered to God—not because God is somehow in need of it, but because we are. So too might our response as stewards of creation have less to do with maintaining a pristine status quo, but rather a posture of gratitude for gifts given to be cultivated respectfully out of reverence for the Giver. 

Sharing more thoughts on Church as Steward in honor of Earth day, at Blessed Is She today:

A few years ago, I heard a newscaster reporting on a scene from the Vatican, in which Pope Francis presided over the Liturgy during Ordinary Time. The newscaster, offering commentary on the event, enthusiastically shared that in the spirit of Earth Day, the Pope was sporting green vestments.

His observation was as innocent as it was inaccurate, which made it all the more humorous.

Yet, it gets to the heart of what can feel is a disjointed relationship between the faithful and our responsibility to be good stewards of creation.