Calling > Blessing

God’s call is about how we are going to bless others. I realized this when I read the call of Abram in Genesis 12. Abram, who later became “Abraham,” heard God declare this:

I will make you into a great nation and I will bless you;

I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing.

The problem for us is that we, or at least I, think that when God calls, something really big is going to happen… for me. But God calls us in order to bless—to improve the life of—not me, but those around me.

Rick Warren, who sold about 40 million of The Purpose-Driven Life, thankfully has some good things to say. He writes in his characteristic direct fashion:

God shaped you for service, not for self-centeredness.

Rick Warren means in this that our S H A P E (Our spiritual gifts, heart/passion, aptitudes, personality, and experience) are unique to us, they are something that God has formed in us, and they are for the benefit of others.

When Abraham heard God’s calling and found what God had shaped him to do, it ultimately meant service and blessing for others. That's something worth hearing.

The Difficulty of Writing in the Vernacular, Henri Nouwen, Amazon.com comments, & Say Yes to No

This entry is a bit of a miscellany (as you can tell from the title)....

I've been pondering an Amazon.com comment on Say Yes to No, primarily because I wrote the book as a way to connect with those outside the church. It appears that, at least for one reader, I failed. Listen to what Christy Pinhero offered:

The review is only two stars because, in it's [sic] description, this book is portrayed more as a book that will help you arrange your priorities. We are told that the author was a pastor, but nothing more. The publisher should have been more honest and revealed that this is Christian non-fiction. God is mentioned on every page, every story has a moral message. While I don't think this is necessarily a problem, I DO think that someone who is looking for something like, "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People" is going to be sorely disappointed. I was really expecting this to be a non-fiction book on time management, but this book has a clear religious bent that would render it unreadable to many. 

Mainly, I want to take in the difficulty of writing for those outside the church, or in the vernacular of everyday culture. I simply attempted to talk about work life balance and time management as a Christian without assuming my reader was spiritually identified. (I would note that Stephen Covey, whom she presents as a contrast and who wrote "Seven Habits," is Mormon.) There honestly aren't references to God on "every page" (as she asserts) of Say Yes to No--she admits to reading just the first three chapters--but still there are too many for her. And that only underlines the challenge.

I've also been pondering it because I'm teaching tonight on the great 20th century spiritual writer Henri Nouwen and the amazing accessibility of his writing. Nouwen once wrote a book for his secular friend, Fred. When the book was completed, Fred declared the book a failure, at least from the perspective of reaching those outside the church. Life of the Beloved left open some fundamental questions, Fred said, such as

Who is God? Who am I? Why am I here? How can I give my life meaning? How do I get faith?

I suppose the consolation is that, if someone of the stature of Henri Nouwen had difficulty, writing from a Christian commitment to those who don't share it, is in fact difficult. I do note, however, that others who commented on Amazon.com did not share this conclusion.

What do you think? Is it possible for someone with strong convictions--in my case religious ones--to speak to those who don't share them? How do you do it?

The Kind that God Uses (and a Bit about Reformed Theology)

In order to keep continuity between the morning worship services (targeted to all ages) and the evening service, the 545 (especially for college students and 20somethings), Bidwell Presbyterian Church uses the same text throughout the day, but not usually the same preacher. As a result, we're taking on the book of Esther this Sunday (September 20th).

To be honest, it's not a story I'm entirely ready to addresss. The book of Esther strikes me as two parts exciting, one part weird, and three parts confusing. The primary plot is that Xerxes the powerful Persian (which we would now call Iranian) king is unhappy with his wife, Vashti. So, being despot and all, he choses another to join his harem, based on her astounding beauty. Enter Esther. The unknown quality about Esther is that she's Jewish--which was not a good thing in that day, around 500 BC. When another court official, Haman, gets into a tirade about the Jews and wants to annihilate them, including an adversary in the royal court, Mordecai, Esther takes action. She parades her hot-ness and finds favor with the king. The result? The Jews--all the Jews in the Persian Empire--are saved.

Did that retelling make sense? (And for those Esther scholars, did I miss anything?) The issue for me is that imbedded in all this is the rank use of power by Esther and Mordecai (the "good guys"), not to mention to Xerxes and Haman. Sexuality used to manipulate and some brutal killing find their way into these 10 chapters in Esther. From a moral point, of view, everything is frankly more than pretty gray.

So what do I do with this and what does Reformed Theology (the kind that I subscribe to) have to say? Well, I return to that amazing teaching of providence--that God will use even really mixed motives to accomplish what he wants. Providence put another way is dual causation--that we can describe any event from below (what did the natural or human actors do) and from above (how is God involved in this).

It's a little disturbing, at least if you're given over to pristine characters. But it does answer the question of what kind of person does God use? Yes. God can use just about anyone.

Yes and the Difficulty of Writing Well

I'm doing some work right now on the next book, the one to follow Say Yes to No. What's my theme? Yes. (How obvious was that?) It seems to me that when we learn the right yeses, we discover a life of beauty, excellence, and joy. (I'm not even going to mention here what happens when we get those yeses wrong.)

Why? I've discovered that, when I discussed the power of no with various readers, many would ask me, "Greg, I think I understand about no. What about saying yes?" So I began to ponder the other side of the ledger as it were, the yes that's surrounded by strategic nos. The next book answers that question with three yeses in three areas: personal life, work, and relationships. (That's a total of nine yeses.)

But here's the thing that struck me right between the eyes: When I say "yes" to writing, writing doesn't always nicely say "yes" back to me. I wish I could say that fairies whispered the right words in my ears as I joyfully typed on my PowerBook. I wish I could say that each sentence emerges full-formed and beautiful from my fingers.

But I'm not gonna lie. It doesn't happen that way. On any number of days, composing the next book can be tough going, slogging through mud on the way to my destination. I sometimes find comfort in remembering that Flaubert would work a whole day on one sentence. I just hope at some point, after all the detours, sore feet, and breaks along the way, I find I've created something beautiful, or at least as beautiful as I can create.

A Beautiful Calling

I've begun to turn the corner from focusing on my last book, Say Yes to No, and now I'm moving into the next project on saying yes to our call and when we do it's a beautiful life. You might say I'm now on the yes side of the equation. This reflection isn't just going to issue into the next book (given the somewhat uncertain requirement that it will be published), but also it will be the basis for this Sunday's sermon ("Yes to the Best"), for a class I'm teaching in the winter (title uncertain, but theme is saying yes to God's call) and for an academic piece I've written (beauty as a motivation for theologians and scientists), to name just a few.

I can't remember if I've posted this before (and I'm a bit too lazy to review the archives), but I've continued to return to a quote by the writer, Frederick Buechner:

The kind of work God usually calls you to is the kind of work (a) that you need most to do and (b) that the world most needs to have done…. Neither the hair shirt nor the soft berth will do. The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.

I love that, and I'd love to put it in the next book. (The only problem is that, right now, the citation is over 50 words. And last time I used a citation of over 50 words--57 words to be exact--from a Martin Luther King, Jr. sermon, it cost me $500 for copyright release. That fact means I really paid about $70/word for those last seven. But I digress....) What Buechner leads me to is the amazing realization that God has created us well and that we find beauty, joy, and excellence when we do what we are created to do. That last statement in itself hardly represents anything novel, and so I'd better work a little harder before I unleash my insights on the world, n'est-ce pas?

One other thought: I've had some questions and comments about my Today show experience and the über-chatty co-contributors at the roundtable. Sure, I would have loved to be able to breathe after I spoke and not be interrupted, and I had more to say. But as I've reflected on the experience, I realize that, most importantly, I did get an opportunity to put out at least a few of my ideas on national TV. And, honestly, I liked the bits I did say. (For what it's worth, I prefer the interview I did the night before on Business News Nightly. You can find it through Sympatico/MSN video.)

So, like much else in life, the glamour was highly mitigated by the reality of the grind and complexity that happens around and in such an event. After starting the day of the roundtable at 7am (4am California time), then of course doing the interview, the day ended by flying home that night on my Jet Blue flight, arriving at the Sacramento airport around 10:30pm and then making the 90 mile drive back to Chico. (The next day continued the fun as it found me moving my stuff to a new office.) While in the plane somewhere over Idaho, I suddenly was struck by a realization that this is one back-breaking, butt-load of work (not sure how those go together exactly). It's only worthwhile if there's a call--if you're not called to do it, then it's simply an enormous, overwhelming burden. I'm thankful I like to communicate, whether through writing, speaking, or teaching. That indeed is my calling. When I do it with the right end in mind--fulfilling the way God has created me--then it is a beautiful calling indeed.

And so I end where I began.

Today and BNN Last Week

Exactly, a week ago, I made my first forays into TV interviews. The first was on a Canadian station, Business News Nightly. I offered my comments on work/live balance from a reasonably isolated booth on Times Square. Honestly, it was challenging because I couldn't fully hear the questions through the single iPod-like earpiece. But I'm thankful for the opportunity nonetheless. The next event was a roundtable discussion of "the power of no" on the Today show. Click here for link. There were five of us, five minutes to talk, and so the event was chaotic but also engaging. You'll see from the video that I had some pretty talkative co-roundtablists!

As I look back now a week later, I realize that all this media work takes amazing time and energy. Now when I watch commentators on various news programs, I do so in a new light--perhaps one that takes the sheen off a little bit, but also that increases my appreciation for those who can take serious ideas and present them in "tv time."

Summer Reading

In articles spun off by Say Yes to No, I've been surprised to find myself engaging with business publications, like BusinessWeek, CNBC, American Management's MWorld, and with publications that apply business concepts to church, such as Church Solutions. (You can find links to some of the pieces that have been published to your right.)

I've been taking some time recently to move forward with reading, especially business literature. One of the easiest for me to bring to church work is a book by the professor of psychologist and management, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience.

Csikszentmihalyi's (pronounced something like "Chick Sent Me High--ee") key idea is that at various points throughout the week, we find ourselves in “flow,” where we experience deep enjoyment, challenge matched by our skills, creativity, and sense that time is moving in a different, and fuller way. I believe that "flow" pretty much describes human flourishing, which I think is God's deep intention for our lives. Csikszentmihalyi’s research adds one surprise for many in the U.S.: that human beings more often experience flow when they are working than when they are at leisure.

Here's my takeaway: Goal-setting, striving for excellence, and clear guidelines are critical to work enjoyment and to life. In fact, even though I'm on vacation, I may be happier when I return to work.... Hmmm, I'll have to think about that one

Michael Jackson and the Beauty of Life

When I use the words "the beauty of life," I mean happiness. I mean that wherever we find beauty, we find life as its quintessence. And there we find human flourishing. Thus beauty and happiness--at least in my vocabulary--are seriously inter-related, if not almost coterminous.

Like so many around the globe in the last 24 hours, I've been taking in the death of the pop superstar, Michael Jackson. I'm not usually given over to this type of activity, but I watched the news shows the night of his death. They reviewed this young phenomenon who appeared on stage, flanked by his brothers in the Jackson Five and who later made an even bigger splash with "Off The Wall" and then the unprecedented, and never surpassed, sales of "Thriller." I've heard estimates of 50 to 100 million in sales of that record alone. They also noted his last decades where his artistry was overshadowed by scandalous and erratic behavior. The news reports reminded me that, after his peak at just about the midpoint in his 50 years, his fame markedly diminished.

I figured here, in this life, with all the resources of money, fame, and talent at its disposal, I'd find beauty. And, yes, beauty did play a role in MJ's life--I find his signature Moonwalk a stunning, beautiful choreographic event. Almost every one of his party anthems possess a beauty of rhythm, of energy. (And here I have to give props to his producer, Quincy Jones, who has no equal.)

But as I heard various interviews with the King of Pop, I didn't see ultimate beauty in these years of life and fame. I heard of someone whose tender years were ripped away by ceaseless performing and who had to create his private Neverland in his adulthood, who apparently cuddled young boys in order to recover a childhood he never had. I heard of someone dogged by the press, but more so, who simultaneously needed the press (and fans) to stoke his incessant desire for fame.

In the end, it's the lack of beauty in Michael Jackson's life that gives me the greatest pause. Perhaps now, that the striving in this life has ceased, he can rest in peace. May we learn how much sooner to say yes to what truly matters and there find the beauty of life.

A Particular Beauty

As is my habit, I've been reading Karl Barth, the great 20th century Swiss theologian. Among other things (and Barth did write a number of other things), he once remarked that theology is a "particularly beautiful science." As far as I understand his sense, Barth meant that there is an excellence, a beauty, in studiously pursuing the heart and depth of all reality, namely God. And, as someone who has done theological work, I find myself nodding my head. As I have sought to grasp a bit of what God is--trying to paint a "bird in flight," as Barth himself once wrote--there are, at points, where I catch a glimpse of getting things right, and thus of beauty. But I suppose I'd want to go just a bit further and propose that anyone who does what they are created to do engages in a particular beauty. Moreover, Barth leads me to believe that when we find our particularly beautiful science, that pursuit creates a life worth living.

At least that's how I see it....

Don't Debt Finance Your Schedule

I'm on to something, but it's not fully brewed yet. Maybe I've been spurred on our economy's demise, based to a large extent on the limits of debt financing. Maybe it's that I just read the New York Times Magazine article on Suze Orman, who has a strong aversion to personal debt and continually poses that simple question to inquiring listeners, "But can you afford it?" Or maybe it's that Advanta just unilaterally froze our business credit cards this weekend.

I don't know, but I realize this: not only do we debt finance our purchases, but we also debt finance our schedules. We add more and more liabilities to our days--and this can be as simple as watching that extra NBA playoff, or saying Yes to one more appointment, or even texting more than any human being needs to--and we simply don't have enough hours to make good on all our commitments. Or we short ourselves. We lose sleep or work faster. What if we asked ourselves, "Can I afford to take this on?"

Nothing too profound (yet), but I'm telling myself, "Don't debt finance your schedule." Let's see where it gets me....

A Postmodern Publishing Moment

This has been an exciting week for me in publishing and even as publishing reports on publishing. A post, which I wrote about two months ago, finally made it to CNBC's blog Click here for link. Moreover, Chico's daily newspaper, The Enterprise-Record, has interviewed me as a lead-up to being published by USA Today's Weekend, in which I comment (as their "insider") about Jim Carrey's move, "Yes Man." An interview with a newspaper that has a national circulation of 43 million is hometown news. (The ER piece comes out in the next few days; the USA Weekend one on May 10th.)

It's fabulous, and I'm excited, but my mind being what it is, it went to postmodernity, where metanarratives pile on top of narratives, commentary starts supplanting the original text, and the whole shebang begins to become a series of Chinese boxes. If you're wondering why I posted a picture of "The Matrix," there are two reasons: first of all, it makes my blog look cool, and secondly the film was based on the postmodern philosophy of Jean Baudrillard (his book, Simulacra and Simulation, appears in one of its opening scenes where Neo hides his contraband computer programs). Baudrillard emphasized that we live in a hyper-reality, in which our experience is based on other's commentaries and presentations of it more than on the direct experience itself. We drink Coke not necessarily because we like it, but because advertising tells us why we desire it.

Thus the philosophy behind "The Matrix" and my week in publishing about publishing are coinciding.

I'm not against hoping that people will pick up Say Yes to No because of these publications. But even more, I hope they will read it and find that the book is worthwhile because, yes, nos really do lead to greater yeses.

Sometimes You Just Can't Help But be Thankful

I was looking over some material related to my book, and I came again across this quote from the noted management guru, Ken Blanchard:

If you feel overwhelmed and overcommitted, Say Yes to No will help you shake up your priorities on the job and at home. Greg Cootsona shows how finding the proper balance of work and rest—‘the rhythm of No’—can lead to a more relaxed and rewarding life. In our busy, busy world, everyone needs to read this book.

First of all, he gets the book and summarizes it expertly. So that's cool. Secondly, it's fabulous that someone of his stature would decide to lend an hand, through an endorsement, to a lesser-known author. When I re-read the quote, I just found myself thankful at that fact.... And spurred on to do likewise when the opportunity arises.

I'd like to be more profound (and I presume, verbose), but sometimes gratitude is rather concise.

After Three Weeks...

I certainly knew that there would be no front-page story in the New York Times or parade through the streets of Chico when my book, Say Yes to No, came out three weeks ago. I knew that the most important response would be the personal—emails, Facebook messages, gifts of wine and champagne (keep those coming!). Say Yes to No hasn’t set the world on fire, I haven’t become a millionaire—or even a thousanaire—but I'm thankful that it’s already touched some lives in the first three weeks.

Since the book is finally out, I became to reflect on what I learned over the past seven or eight years since I began jotting notes on the importance of saying no, then an actual sermon called “A Time for No” and then chapters on the book. I learned—well, I really heard from God, to be honest—that I have a vocation to write. And that process is exactly that—the process of responding to a call. It’s the ongoing response not only to God directly, but to those authors (C.S. Lewis, Anne Lamott, Marilynne Robinson, John Updike, William Shakespeare, Blaise Pascal, to name a few) who really move me with their words. They penned books where I can recall the place, date, weather, and beverage in which I first encountered specific passages. As a result, I want someone else to read my words and feel the same way. (At least Ican hope…)

All this means that the response has been the right kind. Hoopla is not really the response to vocation—things much more subtle, nuanced, and meaningful are. Interestingly, in the midst of writing this post, I got a call from a reporter with USA Weekend, who is going to interview me and ask my opinion (as the author of why we need to say no) on Jim Carrey’s movie, Yes Man. Now, with 48 million readers, USA Weekend is pretty good hoopla. So that brings good fodder for another post...

For now, let me wrap this up by saying that whether there’s buzz or not, writing is something you do because God calls. And that’s reason is certainly good enough yes for me.

Affirming Life, Saying Yes to God

My good friend and colleague at the church, Jim, had surgery on Tuesday for colon cancer. It struck me as entirely ill-timed for a healthy man who’s thirty-nine years old and father of three. Besides that, I was just sad because he's a close friend. Thankfully, the surgery was successful, the tumor is out, and Jim’s future is looking much brighter (though with the possibility of some chemo).

In the preparation for the surgery and even in the midst of it, I’ve been reminded of the need to affirm life. To say yes to God's gifts. Affirm life—by that I mean to seek the good things that give us joy, to realize that the present moment is a gift, to thank God for what we are receiving.

So, in the past few days, I've been texting and telling Jim, “I affirm life with you.” I was a little worried that Jim might consider this too cute and glib, but it seemed to resonate. He and I both realized whatever happens--whether it's facing colon cancer or a day that seems entirely plug and play--life has its mixture of struggle and glory, of death and of life. As for me and my buddy Jim, we're going to choose to affirm life and say Yes to God.

Work/Life Balance or Work/Life Rhythm

I've been thinking recently about the theme of "work/life balance." Maybe a better term is "work/life rhythm." You see, I'm found that the key to a productive and beautiful life is a work/life rhythm of rest and labor in which the two play off each other. This comes from being a drummer: having spent countless hours in the past few decades on a drum set in search of scintillating rhythms, I know the key to great rhythms is the artful combining of both sounds and spaces.

In order to find the right work/life rhythm, there is at least one key practice: restrict technology’s reach. Unplug often enough from techie devices, so you can catch the rhythms of your heart.

So here's one way to get there: detach yourself from the email leash. Despite the ongoing example of our President and his omnipresent Blackberrys—and despite the fact that I’m drawn to email like a moth to flame—my iPhone and its alluring email are sufficiently far from my grasp, my hearing, and my vision while I type out these reflections. Why? Emails relentless knock at the door of my consciousness, and that is not good for my brain’s ability to go deep. It’s at the depths that we find creativity and innovation. If you want a new insight on the pitch you’re about to make, the book you want to write, and or how to manage that challenging employee, you need to move into the deeper functions of my brain. I will condense an enormous body of research from the incredible insights of brain science with this: to become creative and productive, our brain needs to engage its deeper functions. When we are constantly interrupted by urgencies, it is simply impossible.

And here's the bigger payoff. When you begin to detach in order to find a healthy work/life rhythm, you start to hear the rhythm of your heart. There you can begin to hear the rhythm of God.

Getting This Rocket Launched!

Advanced anniversaries are curious to me. What makes one month before an event another event in itself? Why not 19 days, for example?

For whatever reason, the coming advent of my book, Say Yes to No, in exactly one month has me partly nervous, partly beaming. The nerves arise from that age-old question: What if you invite people to a party and no one comes? More specifically, what if, on March 3rd, the book doesn't get grabbed by eager hands and sits there on bookstore shelves and the warehouses of Amazon.com? The other side of my dual emotions is simply the pent-up excitement of having started this project over seven years ago. And now I stand--almost with disbelief--before the day when the final version of my reflections and labor will be tangibly present.

It's probably just a heightened version of the mixed bag we face every day. At any point, there are things, experiences, and people that can disappoint us or that can exhilarate us. The only real variation is that, given the day, the challenging and the motivating present themselves to us in varying proportions. And the opportunity to choose anxiety and fear or gratitude and hope in God's future lies ever before me.

On this day, one month before Say Yes to No appears, I think I'll say No to anxious fear and Yes to grateful faith. (And, by the way, you can help that process: the book is available for pre-order.)

Martin Luther King, Jr. on Saying Yes to a Life of Serving Others

On this profound and historic week, we celebrated the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. and saw some of his dream for our country realized in the inauguration of the first African-American U.S. President, Barack Obama.

I'll let King's words speak for themselves. In his famous sermon, "The Drum Major Instinct," he calls all of us not to take the first position in the parade, where the drum major can be found. Instead he calls us to the life of service to which Jesus directed us:

Everyone can be great because anyone can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. . . . you only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love. And you can be that servant.

Do I hear an Amen?

Say Yes to a Life Worth Living

In the publishing world, this time of year is known as “new year, new you.” In other words, as we turn to calendar to a new year, we naturally think about how we want to make our lives new. Just a quick Googling a moment ago revealed that “new year, new you” means a time when the world of publishing and media generally goad us to make resolutions to exercise more, to eat better, to make more money, to work toward that career we’ve always wanted, that kind of thing.

Now of course there’s nothing overwhelmingly wrong with those things—most of them are worthy goals. But do they add up to a life worth living? If we all got thinner, richer, more powerful, and more famous, would we be truly happy? Would we be living a beautiful life? Most importantly, would it be the path that God wants?

And so, at this time of year, I ask myself, What needs to be the one big, hairy, audacious Yes in my life?

What I want in my life is not to make adjustments, to move the furniture around, but to become not simply a “new me,” but what the Apostle Paul calls “a new creation” in 2 Corinthians 5:17. And since I find myself on the brink of 2008, I’m also finding myself turning again to a great passage from Paul where he describes his overriding motivation. I am particularly moved by this passage because Paul writes this—not as a detached reflection—but in midst of imprisonment, where his lifelong ambition to proclaim the Christian message would seem to be thwarted. But for him, this affliction only further clarifies what he lives for. He knew the big, overriding Yes in his life.

"This one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on towards the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus." Philippians 3:13-14

I think this is something worthy of human life. It’s not a life built of secondary goods of money, recognition, and position. It’s built on what we are created for—to enjoy and glorify God. And when we do this, I believe there we discover life, excellence, and beauty. That’s something worth living for.

The Second Half of "Christian Faith and Sustainability"

Part two: Alternative Christian visions of the natural world
In response to Lynn White’s contentions—and many others who follow him—it's critical to remember that he was no biblical scholar nor historian of Christian doctrine. Herein lies the seeds of his mistakes and of rehabilitating the relation of Christian faith and sustainability.

White could have pursued this more deeply in the biblical and theological traditions. First of all, the notorious texts that speak of dominion—particularly Genesis 1:28—have a much richer and subtle meaning. “Dominion” (from the Hebrew kibbes) is closely related to stewardship, to the concept that the people of Israel were to act as God’s viceroy on earth, to “bear his image” as Genesis 1:27 says. This is language of the ancient near eastern kings who set up their image to demonstrate the boundaries of their territory and how it was governed. The critical exemplum for dominion in the history of Israel was the king, who was judged, according to the tradition of the mercy code in the Torah (the first five books of the Hebrew Bible), by his concern for the least, always exemplified in the “widow and the orphan.” In sum then, stewardship is care, not domination. For this reason, a statement D.T. Suzuki’s represents a serious misrepresentation of the biblical traditions, but provides a notable example of the academic caricature of this passage: “The Nature-Man dichotomy issues, as I think, from the Biblical account in which the creator is said to have given mankind the power to dominate over all creation” (“The Role of Nature in Zen Buddhism, Eranos-Jahrbuch 22 [1953]: 292). Human part of nature but also bear a distinct privilege in their power and ability to affect the natural world—I take this to be reasonably self-evident—but what are we to do with this capacity? The biblical traditions call us back to careful stewardship of creation.

White does note the life of Francis of Assisi (1182-1226), who lived in much greater harmony with the natural world. Francis wrote one of the earliest poems in the Italian language called the “Canticle of the Sun.”

Be praised, my Lord, with all your creatures,
Especially Sir Brother Sun,
Who brings the day, and you give light to us through him.

How handsome he is, how radiant, with great splendor!
Of you, Most High, he bears likeness.

Be praised, my Lord, for Sister Moon and the Stars.
In heaven you have formed them, bright, and precious, and beautiful.

Notice two things with this poem: First of all, Francis spoke of a level of similarity and symmetry with the created world, naming the sun his “brother” and the moon and stars, his “sister.” Secondly—and at the same time—he retained the image of God language that much later became notorious as an exemplum for why men and women have exploited nature, using the tradition language that humankind bears God’s “likeness.”

It is also accurate that the biblical traditions talk of humankind as just one component of creation—miniscule in relation of God’s perspective. The eighth Psalm poses this insight in a question of wonder:

When I look at the heavens, the work of your fingers,
What is man that you are mindful of him?”

White is probably presenting Francis as the exception that proves the rule, but that argument has to strain out a considerable amount of Jewish and Christian history, the thousand year traditions of the Hebrew Scriptures itself notwithstanding.

In the history of Christian faith, Francis of Assisi is an excellent model, especially in his resplendent praise and appreciation for creation. Another, less obvious choice, remains John Calvin (1509-64) and the subsequent Calvinist tradition generally, which has always highlighted the call to Christian simplicity, which focuses on a life without ostentation, and which (to quote the Girl Scouts) instructs its followers to “use our resources wisely.” It is the tradition in which I, as a Presbyterian, stand. In a broader sense, it is the tradition, as descendents of the Puritan strain in American life, that my parents and my grandmother, whom I noted above, are largely unconscious heirs. In light of the current domination of market forces, this represents a stunning counter-consumerist move—when followed—that counteracts the exploitation of the earth. It does also offer a critique to much of the practices that have often characterized the history of the Christian Church, when we have forgotten the traditions of the Scriptures, of Francis, of Calvin, and of many others.

There are numerous other contemporary examples. I will simply mention the North American theologian, Douglas John Hall, who speaks of imperial Christianity:

Under the conditions of imperial Christianity, it was not stewardship but lordliness that appealed to the mentality of the church’s policy makers. Thus, historic Christianity has seemed either to ignore and escape from the world, or else wish to possess it. (The Steward: A Biblical Symbol Come of Age, 82)

(Here I am reminded of Descartes’ notorious phrase that we are “masters and possessors of nature.”) Hall continues his analysis and reclaiming of the concept of human stewardship: it means that we must take in action role in tending creation and abandon “forms of religion that denigrate the natural world, that view the world as primarily a cache of resources to be exploited for human ends” (ibid.). In other words, strong biblical theology and faithful Christian practice lead us to care for the earth as stewards, not exploit it as consumers. Obviously, my arguments here find strong resonance with those of Hall.

Forward is the only way to go
With the exception of Hall, all those positive ideas—and the negative examples in Christian history—represent what is the past. And what lies ahead of us—with shrinking ice caps and decreasing rain forests, with increasing acid rains and diminishing species—is what Christians can do now. The first step I advocate is to reclaim a vibrant theological term, repentance. The Christian community must admit its guilt in the current ecological problems. We must turn around from our ecologically negative practices. We must repudiate our thralldom to the gods of consumerism and return to lives of proper simplicity and stewardship of nature.

Next, I believe we must move toward grass roots stewardship at the individual and congregational level. Congregationally, I have looked toward other Presbyterian churches and even our denominational structures, and have met with a team to engage with issues of sustainability and ecological stewardship at Bidwell Presbyterian Church. From the more conservative side of the Christian ledger a notable document has emerged recently, “Climate Change: An Evangelical Call to Action.” It makes four claims: 1) Human-induced climate change is real, 2) The consequences of climate change will be significant, and will hit the poor the hardest, 3) Christian moral convictions demand our response to the climate change problem, and 4) The need to act now is urgent. Governments, businesses, churches, and individuals all have a role to play in addressing climate change starting now. As the prominent evangelical pastor, Ric Warren, writes in this document:

Life is all about stewardship. It all belongs to God—he just loans it to us for a short period of time. The first command God gave to man was to take care of the Earth, which includes managing and protecting the environment.

Even more individually, we are called to reuse, to limit our consumption of resources, and to be very specific and hit home, to bring with us reusable containers, to turn down thermostats, to turn up air conditioners, to lobby our politicians, to ride our bikes, and to walk. I heard a survey a few years ago that stated most Chico State students, who live within a mile of campus, drive to school! I also believe we are called to take this on, as we are today, in secular academic institutions and in theological institutions, where courses on ecology and theology, though a bit of a cottage industry, must form a component of academic discourse and ministerial formation.

I do not know entirely what will motivate the Church toward appropriate actions or whether the call to a sustainable life will ultimately take root. Though I must admit that I have a long way to go to stewarding well the resources of this planet, I know that as I attempt to live a more sustainable life, I seek to do as I bring to mind Grandma Elizabeth, my parents, and particularly the future for my daughters. I seek to care for this earth and to find a more sustainable life because I believe this is what my faith requires of me. I see many other Christians today doing the same and pray that many others to join because I believe, when we act as stewards of creation, we touch a bit of what God wants for all humankind.

Say No to Ecological Abuse and Yes to Stewarding God’s Creation

In light of some recent interest in biblical views of sustainability—for example, with the recent publication of The Green Bible —it seemed entirely appropriate to blog on the topic of Christian Faith and Sustainability. Below is the first half of a paper I presented last month at Chico State University at their annual sustainability conference.

Christian Faith and Sustainability: Friends or Foes?

If thy heart were right, then every creature would be a mirror of life, and a book of holy doctrine. There is no creature so small and abject, but it reflects the goodness of God.
The medieval Christian mystic, Thomas á Kempis

Reasons for this topic
Three images run through my mind and frame my thoughts on “Christian Faith and Sustainability: Friends or Foes?” First is my grandmother Elizabeth raising chickens in Tacoma, Washington during the Depression. There, in this simple instance, was sustainability—not self-conscious, but crafted from necessity: The chickens provided eggs while they were alive, they later provided meat when they were killed, and the bones could supply excellent chicken stock. And with very little carbon footprint!

I also remember my parents, Tom and Ruth, and their Yuban coffee cans—after the grounds were all percolated, these sturdy brown steel containers housed bacon grease, nuts and bolts, and sundry other items. They were hardly ever thrown away, at least until they were used and re-used multiple times. And that cycle sometimes implied amazing creativity. On one rainy day, the roof started leaking, and my father unrolled the can and patched the offending spot.

Finally, I imagine the faces of my two daughters, Melanie and Elizabeth—and wonder how they will be viewing you and I will and the way we have left this planet for them to inhabit. This topic is not distant and “academic” in the negative sense, but engaged and real for me. To be frank, I hope that the ideas imbedded in this paper will affect lives, change attitudes toward and within the Christian community, and ultimately transform behavior.

Next, I turn to two facts that embolden me as a pastor, or in some ways, a religious leader in this community. Calculated at probably the highest level possible, the percentage of Christians in the United States hovers somewhere around 80% (Wikipedia, for example, has 78.5%)—thus how leaders in Christian churches approach the topic of sustainability will prove to be central to facing the ecological issues we face. Admittedly, that represents this represents people who are more Christian in name than in belief and practice. I also know the limitations that I, as a pastor specifically, or the church more generally, has on even those 40% that regularly attend worship services. Nonetheless, if any religion will have a majority influence on United States citizens, it is Christianity. For that reason, there is the gauntlet that has often been thrown at the Christian Church; we are alleged to have caused most of the ecological problems that face our planet. Consider just one recent book, assigned this semester at Chico State course entitled, “World Religions and Global Issues.” In his book, Ecology and Religion, David Kinsley, offers this summary statement, “Contemporary discussions of ecological spirituality centers on Christianity’s possible role in the advent of the contemporary ecological crisis” (Kinsley, xx).

In light of these considerations, I pose then this question: Are Christian faith and sustainability friends or foes?

Two clarifications
The topic of Christianity’s responsibility for ecological problems—or turned around, the Christian Church’s relationship with sustainability—still finds its epicenter in Lynn White’s famous article in Science, which still wears well after forty years, “The Historic Roots of our Ecologic Crisis.” Among many partners in this dialogue—and in some ways, dispute—White remains worthy of attention. To his article, I will return in a moment.

On the way, I must make two clarifications: When I am addressing the topic of “Christian faith,” I will be focusing on Christianity as a system of belief and practice, which follows a line of scholarship that leads through such seminal scholars of religion as Robert Bellah, Huston Smith, and Clifford Geertz. This means that—in some contrast to White—I will center on Christianity as faith and less on Christianity as an historical religion. Secondly, I will offer a simple, provisional, working definition of sustainability: a way of life and practices that utilize natural resources by means that can endure, thereby providing for the welfare and ecological balance of the natural world.

The persistent challenge of Lynn White
Let me then return to the persistent challenge of Dr. Lynn White, professor of medieval history whose article first appeared in Science in 1967. This short, pity, and fascinating piece still continues to resonate to this day. (This fact is remarkable when one considers how much global ecological concerns have changed in these four decades.)

First of all, White makes excellent arguments and presents them in a much more subtle way than many summaries would indicate. In fact, he speaks from within the church, not as an outside critic. Nonetheless, he argues that, historically—and it is important to remember that White was a medieval historian, not a scientist nor scholar of religion—the Christian Church has been a significant player in Western in abusing our world’s ecology. He contends that Christianity set it self against and ultimately destroyed the animism present in paganism, and thereby “made it possible to exploit nature in a mood of indifference to the feelings of natural objects” (White, 1206). The great historian, Arnold Toynbee, echoes this sentiment when he writes, “The salutary respect and awe with which man had originally regarded his environment was thus dispelled by Judaic monotheism in the versions of Israelite originators and of Christians and Muslims” (Toynbee-Ikeda Dialogue, in Kinsley, 104).

Moreover, White particularly bases this contention on a reading of certain biblical texts, such as Genesis 1:26, that describes men and women as created in the “image of God” and calls for humankind to have “dominion” over the earth. This story comes in the very first chapter of the Hebrew Scriptures in its description of God creating the world and particularly making Adam and Eve:

Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.”

White concludes that “dominion” equals “domination” or “exploitation” and then combines with this argument—and this is critical and underappreciated move, in my opinion—that this element of thought in the Hebrew Bible led to the rise of modern science and technology and thus contributed to the “ecologic crisis,” to which sustainability seeks to respond. From the concept that “man” is “not simply part of nature; he is made in God’s image,” White concludes that Christianity “not only established a dualism of man and nature but also insisted that it is God’s will that man exploit nature for his proper ends” (White, 1206).

This latter point brings us to a critical weakness in his argument. White ties the ecological crisis with growth of science and technology itself based on Christian theology. Today, we often hear the criticism that the history of Christianity is the narrative of suppressing scientific insight. Usually, the prosecutors bring out the trial of Galileo and the Church’s reception of Darwin as Exhibits A and B. Scholarly research of the past few decades has proven these two pieces of evidence are hardly conclusive, but I will not pause there, except to note that the argument is problematic. (I have a brief discussion of this, and the proper relationship of science and theology in the first chapter of my book, Creation and Last Things: At the Intersection of Theology and Science. Click here for link. It seems to me that the argument cannot go both ways. The history of Christianity is either largely for or against the development of science. In my opinion—and in agreement with White—Christian theology is the seedbed for the rise of modern science. This is not a new argument—Michael Foster, the Oxford philosopher first made it in 1934 and it has been echoed more recently by the U.C. Berkeley, Noble laureate physicist, Charles Towne. Nonetheless, misuse of our planet is not consistent with a properly constituted and elaborated theology. In other words, the history of Christianity does have within it the exploitative use of science and technology, but that is an infiltration of foreign thought and not integral to the core of Christian theology. It is worth noting the other threads of western history that have caused the degradation of our natural environment such as the rise of the Enlightenment and its propagators such as Francis Bacon, René Descartes, and Isaac Newton. In addition, White does not note the growth of consumerism after World War II—as an alternative to spiritual life—whose consumption of resources has greatly inflamed the ecological problem.