Category — Philosophy

It is ironic that we live in such an environmentally conscious society while living in an environment which is almost entirely artificial. Unlike the world in which our grandparents were raised, a modern career-person has minimal need to go outdoors. Those that park their car in a garage while at home and have below-ground parking at their workplaces may go through an entire day without stepping outside.  Being “green” drives our consciences but on most days our experiences with greenery are limited to looking out the windows of hybrid vehicles and watering our potted plants.

Perhaps it is precisely because we are inside our dwellings so much that we have become so acutely concerned with nature. When so few eyes see a forest with any frequency, it should not be surprising that a deistic sense of mystery has developed around the natural environment. Environmentalism appears to be a fast growing pseudo-religion, not just increasing in adherents, but also changing the way many view Christianity and our faith. Bookstores first replaced the section for theology with Christianity, then Christianity with religion. Now religion has all but been subsumed by spirituality. Common among the titles are those of nature spirituality and new age religions. As Alan Jacobs observed in the May edition of First Things, even the most holy of books has been made “green”. In The Green Bible, a recently published New Revised Standard Version of scripture, the passage “Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn and you will not be condemned” has been specially highlighted in green type. Apparently the verse “speak[s] to God’s care for creation.” However, the reality is that this passage speaks of His care for us humans and not for trees or caterpillars. This obvious point was apparently missed by the Bible’s editors. Maybe their vision was obscured by the UV-blocking coating on their green-coloured glasses.

This is not to suggest that the “merits” of nature religions are responsible for the regression of former Christians to paganism. Rather, it is reasonable to speculate that the shift to the indoors has somehow so distanced Christians from their faith that eventually it was lost. The resultant restlessness within human hearts has no doubt drawn some to nature religions, hoping for a quick-fix.

In The Luminous Dusk, Dale C. Allison Jr. highlights a number of effects of indoor life, two of which particularly support the contention that our absence of outdoor living has weakened our relationship with God. First, urbanization has undermined our ability to delve deeply into scripture. The bible was written by people who encountered nature. Highlighting passages in green type does little to rectify our inability to relate to the authors’ lived experiences:

“… the Bible [has become] foreign to us, who now pass most of our time in artificial environments. I surely speak for many in saying that few of the significant events in my life have taken place outdoors. It was just the opposite for Jesus. Almost every important event in his life occurred outside - his baptism, his temptation, his transfiguration, his entry into Jerusalem, his crucifixion. The clouds and orbs in the sky were his roof (and I recall that when he spoke of the Last Things, he saw the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven and the stars falling from the sky). The fact is hermeneutically relevant. One wonders: Is the story of Adam and Eve not less memorable for people who have spent almost no time in real gardens? Is it not likely that the rhetorical resonance of Jesus’ agricultural parables is dulled for readers who require every detail about planting and harvesting to be explained? Can those who run to sturdy shelters when tornado sirens sound fully appreciate the terror of the disciples on the waves of a stormy Sea of Galilee? Can people who do not know the difference between a sparrow and a starling have any deep emotional response to Jesus’ command to “look at the birds of the air” (Matt. 6:26)? It is hard enough - or rather, close to impossible - to cross the chronological and geographical spaces; but when we have also quitted the natural world, is it not harder to feel sympathy for the characters in the Bible and to identify with their stories?”

Second, we have sufficiently insulated ourselves from the forces of nature that it is usually only when catastrophe strikes that we are forced to acknowledge that we don’t always control our own destiny:

“If an increasing distance from Nature has cut us off from multitudinous sources of wonder, it has also cut us off from certain feelings of terror and replaced them with nurtured feelings of self-sufficiency, even complacency. In the face of earthquakes and tornados, our parents were helpless. Droughts and floods left them humbled, cognizant of their own impotence. But the more we construct buildings that will survive earthquakes, the more we learn about predicting tornados in time to take shelter, the more we think about seeding clouds and towing icebergs, and the more we build drainage ditches to divert floods, the less terrified we become. This is so important because those who are terrified always cry out for help, just as those who are not terrified can remain confident in themselves.”

Despite accepting Allison’s cause and effect analysis, I hesitate to accept his conclusion that “the problems, unfortunately, are much more vivid than the answers.” I hesitate because in a sense he’s right. A re-ruralization of society is simply not in the cards. Yet I optimistically strive to see all our struggles as opportunities for grace. The urbanized environment creates a new context for understanding the always relevant and living word of God. The authors of scripture could never have foreseen or intended that loving our neighbour could mean posting a comment on a webpage so that the author knows someone is reading. Jesus knew, though. Immersing oneself in the bible means finding meaning for your life, your family, in God’s personal words of scripture – written just for you. The message which God whispers to my heart will often be different than that which He whispers to yours. Obviously our messages will be different Elijah’s on Mount Horeb (1 Kings 19). What matters most is that we’re listening.

As for crying out for help, we live in still times. It can’t always be so. One need only recall the plights of the Israelites in the Old Testament to know that our silence toward God seems like an ominous harbinger of things to come. Undoubtebly we will cry out and God, who is everywhere and knows everything, will hear us.  

And the stars and the birds are not going anywhere fast. When I next sleep outdoors it will be as if God has awoken my soul. I yearn for the experience and I crave it, but I know that God has placed me right here, right now. I’m finding my sanctity in front of a monitor with the gentle hum of a computer fan to keep me company. It doesn’t sound like the whisper of God, but it is strangely calming. It’s not a lullaby, but it’s helping me rest for when I can soon become most fully alive.

Sources:

Dale C. Allison Jr, The Luminous Dusk: Finding God in the Deep, Still Places (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 2006) at pp. 11, 15, 22.

Alan Jacobs, “Blessed are the Green of Heart” 193 First Things Magazine May 2009 - http://www.firstthings.com/

At the inspiration of a mother of a friend I looked into the writing of C.S. Yanikoski:

http://www.livewithoutgod.com/index.html#Contents

I gave the site an ever-so-brief précis. A recipe for disastrously poor analysis. However, C.S. is no Lewis. I feel well equipped to comment having read the introduction and his marvelously written table of contents, even if I skimmed the rest. It is exam time.

Aside from the immediate observation that his commentary on the bible’s origin is oversimplified, incomplete and misleading, a few things struck me. First, his audience is, he admits, those that are questioning their faith and unbelievers. In fact, he overtly states at the beginning that those that have a strong faith are wasting their time in reading on. There’s a good reason for this, we soon see; his argument holds no merit for a true Christian.

In effect, he posits that faith is a choice, perhaps an intellectual endeavor. “Belief in God”, “believers tend”, “a reason to believe” quickly becomes “Intelligent Designer” and “the God of the Gaps.” For one who believes, his argument is already on shaky ground. Believers know that he just doesn’t get it. Let me fill in the gaps. Belief is not science, logic, or reason. Faith is compatible with these, it may stem from one of them, it is supported by them all, but it can never be one of them. Faith is, er… faith. Yeah, it does require a leap. What Yanikoski doesn’t get is that the leap is not into a gaping chasm or a dark abyss devoid of certainly. It is a gentle fall into the hands of a Friend, a Lover. Faith is relationship. Father Larry Richards asks, why do you believe in God? Only one answer suffices: “I KNOW God”.

For those that do not know Him, the rest of what Yanikoski states is (mostly) correct. Sure, you can be a good person without a personal relationship with God. You may even get those things that you did not receive as a result of your prayers! He loves us no matter what. As the True Father, nothing we can do will cause Him to stop. (Something a mother will relate to, as well) We may choose to be like the prodigal son. He will not force our love. He will always welcome us back.

Yanikoski is a man who wants proof, explanation. He presents the impossible task to readers of proving God’s existence. Hardly novel. Yanikoski’s no fool, but neither is he an Aquinas, Augustine, or, more contemporaneously – we needn’t stretch the annals of time for an appropriate comparator – a Ratzinger or Wojtyla. One wouldn’t think that More or Beckett were fools, either. Yet why would they die for their faith? Not as intelligent as Yanikoski? Just didn’t get it? Perhaps. Or perhaps they got it All. There’s an utilitarian appeal that accompanies being your own boss and following a less stringent set of moral dictates. The utility of voluntarily, albeit reluctantly, accepting a London Tower beheading is admittedly more esoteric. For those of us that do get it, there has never been a greater utility than the perpetual embrace of the One whom gave us life and then offered His own for US on a piece of wood.

“Then Jesus our good Lord said: If you are satisfied, I am satisfied. It is a joy, a bliss, an endless delight to me that ever I suffered my Passion for you; and if I could suffer more, I should suffer more.” – Bl. Julian of Norwich