So how do we live in harmony with one another, and the orchestra of Creation, over whom God is the Conductor? It is true that we cannot continue business as usual. I remember a teacher in high school citing a statistic that if everyone lived as decadently as we do in the West, we would need something like 4.5 planets. And yet, people in developing countries, understandably aspire to live as comfortably as us, and their resentment of policies that penalize their carbon emissions when the West had free reign to develop unrestricted for hundreds of years is understandable too. But the fact is, the effects of climate change do not respect borders or care about geopolitics. Given our better understanding of climate change and how our behavior has contributed to it, we in the West need to repent for the culture of consumerism we developed, and we all need to put politics and grievances aside and find a way to move forward toward a more sustainable future together. To incorporate another analogy, we all need to go on a diet, curtail our gluttonous consumerism and figure out what we actually need to thrive. I believe we can survive, even thrive with less.
But what I found when I changed the way I eat is that it has not meant a life of misery, tiny, unsatisfying portions of gross food. I like to think of Glenn Beck's dystopian view of environmental restoration as this kind of diet. Despite all of the evidence that climate change is a real existential threat, Christian Nationalists like him view climate change as nothing more than a conspiracy for government control. Antihumanists by contrast, recognize that climate change is a real threat, but feel that our condition is so hopeless we should just do our best to get through life, hope maybe a catastrophe like a more virulent global pandemic will put us out of our misery sooner, and make sure not to procreate and subject future generations to a life of misery on this earth we have so devastated. Transhumanists hope that we might develop artificial intelligence technology smarter than us (another spiritual rant I am saving for another post), or maybe we can figure out how to colonize Mars. But to colonize Mars, we would need man-made technology to supply our own oxygen, grow food further from the sun and protect ourselves from the much colder climate, and after the recent tragedy with the submarine that imploded, should we really entrust the future of humanity to these billionaire "innovators?" And even if we figure out how to colonize Mars with reliable technology, but our greedy human hearts have not changed, wouldn't we ultimately figure out how to exploit Mars to the point that it also becomes uninhabitable? Transhumanists are like the person who acknowledges their problematic habits, but believes one day there will be a magic pill. Most of us in the West are like the person that knows we need to change, knows there will be no magic pill, at least not one without unintended consequences, but the details of exactly how to change our habits feel so daunting that we are always saying, "I will do better tomorrow," as we give ourselves a giant scoop of frozen chocolate custard with hot fudge on top.
My eating habits still aren't perfect. Like many Americans, I got complacent with my portion sizes during the pandemic when I was home all the time, bored and anxious about what the future held. But the journey of changing the way I eat has been a sort of spiritual experience that has given me insights that I believe are relevant to the climate change discussion as well.
When I took the course on the book of Genesis my first semester at Trinity, the final paper required students to identify one mission God sets out for humans in the book of Genesis, and trace it through the Bible. I chose Creation care. While reflecting on this subject filled me with passion, I was a bit overwhelmed by this assignment, the most demanding assignment I had done since my undergraduate capstone at Carroll University in 2012, and my brain was just barely recovering from the atrophy caused by working in the corporate world, so the research process exhausted me. The final week of the semester, my parents and I also had to make the difficult decision to put my sweet guide dog and companion for 12 years, Gilbert to sleep. He had been slowing down for a couple of years, so I had accepted that it was time to say goodbye, but after the procedure, I still had difficulty concentrating. It had also been so long since I had to cite scholarly sources and use footnotes that this process overwhelmed me as well. I felt inspired to open the paper with the first few lines of Colors of the Wind, a song from Pocahontas, but could not find any examples of how to cite songs in Trinity's library resources, so I know this was cited incorrectly. But I managed to submit my paper in the nick of time, and to my amazement, earned a 97%. I believe this professor showed grace and mercy, giving me a much higher grade than I deserved, but I think he could sense my passion, and he gave me excellent feedback on how to make my argument more compelling. He also recommended that I read Stewards of Eden by Sandra Richter, a seminary professor from Kentucky passionate about convincing Christians that Creation care is a biblical mandate. Since then, I got sidetracked by life, but finally at the end of last month, I read this book and it was excellent. In my paper, I directed most of my blame for Christian apathy toward the climate crisis to the bad influence of prosperity theologians who conflate material wealth with God's blessing. The professor pointed out that while it is certainly true that the prosperity gospel has had a terrible influence on Christianity, it is a straw man argument because there are a lot of Christians who reject this theology and yet don't recognize that Creation care is a biblical mandate. After reading this book, I finally understand what he was getting at. For example, most Christians are no different than most Americans in that we give little thought to the milk, eggs and meat we put into our grocery cart. We are merely the invisible consumer, looking for the best product at the lowest price. It is the seller's responsibility to worry about where the product originated and how it was produced. Personally, I avoid beef and pork because red meat (at least red meat tender enough to be tolerated by the rest of the family) is very fattening, sits like a cement block in the stomach, and has almost no nutritional value. The fact that cows produce a lot of methane is a bonus reason not to eat it. Chicken and turkey make up the bulk of my meat consumption with fish once or twice a week, and eggs for breakfast twice a week. Long before reading this book, I was aware of the inhumane conditions of factory farms that produce pretty much all of the chicken, turkey and eggs Americans eat, that I eat for enjoyment, and because it is necessary to consume animal products to obtain vitamin B12 naturally. But I am embarrassed to say the suffering of these animals really didn't break my heart: in fact I barely even thought about it. I suppose I viewed it as a necessary evil to provide enough food for the population. Besides, God permitted us to eat meat, and the Bible doesn't say much about the treatment of livestock. But Sandra Richter opened my eyes to the fact that actually, God has a lot to say, especially in Leviticus and Deuteronomy, about the treatment of livestock. Of course, factory farms were not an issue back in biblical times. In fact, the ancient Israelites would have been subsistence farmers, who barely grew enough to survive. Even so, God mandated that livestock be treated with dignity. The Israelites were commanded for example, to not muzzle their oxen while they worked, so that the oxen could enjoy some of the grain while threshing, even though every grain of wheat would have been precious to the Israelites. When animals were slaughtered, they had to be taken before the priest, to ensure that the animal's life had been considered. Slaughter was never to be done casually or thoughtlessly, and God required the manner of death to be as merciful as possible. Given the principles behind these laws, it is safe to assume that God is not pleased by the practices of factory farming. And these practices are not only cruel to the domestic animals and the bodies of water (which have been polluted by the disposal of their manure) in the orchestra of creation. They have been harmful to the harmony of the choir as well. Food borne illnesses are often traced back to these factory farms, and they have monopolized the production of food to such a degree that the family farm where livestock are treated humanely and raised in the natural, healthy manner God intended, is no longer economically viable, a reality that has been devastating to rural communities.
I am reluctant to make any changes in where we buy meat during these hot summer months, but after reading this book, I feel compelled to look into joining a farm co-op that delivers meat directly from family farms. I had an extremely liberal, Atheist English professor in college who talked about how her family did this, but now I realize this is a practice that should not be stereo-typed as liberal. Conservative Christians should embrace it too. Will this mean that our meat costs more? Of course, and as a result, we will have to either eat fewer meals with meat or figure out how to stretch it. The practice of factory farming has allowed us to eat more meat, more cheaply than ever before in human history, and has given the developing world greater access to meat as well. But this has come at a devastating cost to our physical health in the West, and the health of God's Creation. But this doesn't mean curtailing all culinary pleasure, just redefining it. I have come to find--and this is the truth--that I feel more light and satisfied after a stir fry of cauliflower rice and vegetables with little bits of chicken for flavor, or my mom's cabbage soup with little bits of ground turkey in a wonderful blend of cabbage, spices and tomato sauce, than after a dinner that consists of the standard American hunk of meat.
Genetically modified crops, especially wheat, have also been devastating to the land, and to human health. In fact, my childhood consumption of massive amounts of this wheat is probably the reason I have Celiac disease. It is too late for me this side of Heaven, but if you don't have Celiac disease, I urge you to pay more for the hippy-stereotype breads that are made from the natural wheat our great-grandparents ate. It may mean fewer servings of bread in your diet, but your body and the Earth will thank you, and when Christ returns to redeem all Creation, I look forward to eating warm, fresh-baked bread again.
Finally, I agree that God does want us to prosper, but his idea of prosperity is completely at odds with the material prosperity championed by prosperity theology, a dangerous marriage of American capitalism with God's supposed blessing. I think we need to recognize that some of our customs that bring us pleasure in this world are just so hedonistic and over-the-top that they need to be abandoned. One of my favorite treats, and one that can easily be adapted to be gluten free, was a warm, fudgy, chocolate brownie in a bowl with a heaping scoop of chocolate ice cream on top. Just writing about it makes me hungry. But after eating this decadent dessert, my stomach felt heavy and sometimes I would even feel a little sweaty or shaky, so it did a terrible number on my blood sugar. Some will say, "oh come on. You're allowed to have a treat now and then." But the thing is, I don't think God ever intended for us to eat the processed sugar that is so ubiquitous in our society, even as a treat. Processed sugar is a product that companies intentionally designed to be addictive, to keep you coming back for more to maximize profit. For our great-grandparents, a treat was the summer harvest of fresh strawberries, or the apples in Fall. We need to respect the temple of our bodies (1 Corinthians 3:16-17) and God's Creation by returning to this mindset. While I believe I will get to enjoy bread again, a food that was once a natural, healthy food that can be traced back to Bible times, I believe that even after our resurrection, I will not be eating warm chocolate brownies with ice cream on top, and won't even want one. Such a craving is merely a sinful desire of my heart in this world, a decadence unimaginable and unavailable for most of human history. But this gluttony is also found in our culture's insistence on a new phone every year, a new car every three years on average, and especially the fast-fashion industry, which I knew exploited women and children in third-world countries whom our culture unfortunately views as less valuable members of the choir. But I did not realize until watching an expose recently--I think it was on 60 Minutes--that fast fashion has also devastated the environment. Did you know for example that every year for big events like the Superbowl, millions of shirts are produced in advance of the event proclaiming both possible outcomes. After the game, the victory shirts for the team that ended up losing are sent overseas, supposedly to help the poor, but it is more than these countries can handle, so these clothes often end up in landfills. So we basically inundate third-world countries with our trash, our rejects, just to make sure that merchandise is available instantly after the game. I was astonished and appalled to learn this. I think we really could handle waiting a few days or even weeks for merchandise so that companies only need to produce one set of shirts, or better yet, we could just remember the game in our hearts and save all those resources for something more useful. As for the purchase of new phones or cars, this cannot entirely be blamed on vain consumers who crave novelty. I love using phones and computers until they are so old that most apps aren't supported by their operating systems anymore, but eventually the inability to access necessary apps for work and school force people like me to buy a new device, playing right into the hand of big tech companies who are more interested in the short-term profit generated by a new product than environmental sustainability.
During the 1920's, my paternal grandpa's parents owned a motel and restaurant. When the business was sold in the 1950s, Grandma and Grandpa inherited some of the equipment, including a smash toaster that made the most amazing toast that I always looked forward to when visiting Grandma and Grandpa in the 1990s, and 2000's. Grandma isn't really able to cook anymore, and I don't eat toast anymore so I don't know what became of it, but the point of it is, it was still cooking perfect toast at more than eighty years old, whereas now, it seems like you are lucky if a toaster lasts more than a year, and a phone or computer is considered old if it is more than five years old. I think we as a culture, especially Christians, should demand products be made to last like Grandma's smash toaster. There is no reason why the chunk of metal that is my phone should have to be replaced every five years when the hardware is still in perfect condition. If the brainpower exists to create the coding for new operating systems, I would think relatively little brainpower by comparison would be necessary to install necessary upgrades on existing hardware so that we can keep and use only one chunk of metal for eighty years. This would make customers like me happy, and would also better ensure the long-term sustainability of their business since the metals required for these phones are a nonrenewable resource that may eventually run out.
Climate change is a complex situation and addressing it will require change on multiple levels. I know I haven't exhaustively addressed all of the changes we may need to make. As inspiration strikes, I imagine I will be writing more on this subject. I also acknowledge the importance of humility because although I have boasted of my intention to start buying meat that supports the family farm, and my stubborn refusal to buy a new phone until I am forced to, my environmental stewardship is far from perfect. A couple years ago, Frontline did an expose of the plastic industry, which claims their products can be recycled but practically speaking many of them cannot. To illustrate this, a reporter walked through the grocery store and pointed out all of the plastic packaging on the shelves. I don't think audio description was available for this show so I couldn't see everything, but she specifically mentioned boxed lettuce, which I eat pretty much every day unless fresh romaine heads are available. The 10-ounce boxes typically last me two days, and the 16-ounce boxes around three days. So while my habit of eating big salads at lunchtime is extremely healthy for my physical body, I contribute two to three single-use plastic salad boxes to the landfill each week. But at this point I do not know how to change this short of giving up salad because we do not live in a climate conducive to growing our own steady supply of really any vegetables, including salad. I also recognize there may come a day when I may have to make more substantial sacrifices, like perhaps live, for a few hours each day at least, without air conditioning as running air conditioners puts tremendous strain on electrical grids. And if that day comes, I am sure that in my fallen state, I will forget all about Christian ideals and complain bitterly about it. While my mom grew up without air conditioning and doesn't seem as bothered by the stifling heat and humidity that takes over when the air conditioner goes out, the few occasions I have had to go without it, like when we had a four day power outage following a storm two summers ago, I am absolutely miserable. Once we are accustomed to luxuries, it is difficult to give them up. But part of this misery could be that our house doesn't have great air circulation, but we aren't planning to stay here forever. Maybe for our next house, we should look for one within walking distance to a public pool or clean lake to swim hot summer afternoons away just like Mom did growing up.
God is gracious and merciful, and understands that we live in a fallen world where much is out of our control. But as Christians, I believe we have the duty to be receptive to the Holy Spirit and open to new ideas of how He may be calling us to live more sustainably. Most importantly, we as Christians should be the ones taking the lead, lovingly sharing God's wisdom with our culture, working toward getting the choir closer to the harmony God intended.
The Secret Garden, the children's classic written by Frances Hodgson Burnett does not have an overt Christian message. Yet when I reread this book as an adult and observed how Dickon lived in perfect harmony with nature, putting wild animals at ease to such an extent that they followed him around, even rode on his shoulder, the way he helped transform Mary and Colin from spoiled, sad, lonely kids to joyful children who loved the great outdoors, it occurred to me, this is what paradise might look like. But as Christians, we don't have to wait until then to start working toward this vision. What if we acted like Dickon, gently, lovingly showing a contrary world how to "run the hidden pine trails of the forest, taste the sun sweet berries of the earth, roll in all the riches all around us, and for once, never wonder what they're worth" (Pocahontas). What if we lived as if the rainstorm and the river, and the land and the air are our brothers, as if the heron and the otter and the sandhill crane and the black-capped chickadee, and I suppose even the mosquitoes and bees, are our friends? Changes in lifestyle are never easy in this fallen world, and like I said, there are still days when I crave that decadent brownie with ice cream on top. But the long-term joy of feeling lighter and healthier has been worth the sacrifice, just as I believe the long-term prospect of singing in harmony with one another and the orchestra of Creation again ought to thrill us far more than all of the material wealth of this world.