Journey Beyond

The 1986 Chernobyl nuclear disaster left in its wake an ‘exclusion zone’; an area so radioactive it had to be abandoned by humans. In the years since the disaster, the exclusion zone has become a haven for wildlife, to the extent that it has been declared a nature reserve! Many species of wild animals and birds, which were not seen in the area prior to the disaster, are now plentiful due to the absence of humans in the area.

This nature reserve offers us a glimpse of what a human-free earth may be like. Have you ever considered that humans may become extinct? We may scoff at the Dark Ages Christians who branded Galileo a heretic for declaring that the earth is not at the centre of the universe, but do we really share his view? We humans still view ourselves as the centre of the universe, which in turn has led us to see ourselves as separate from the rest of creation.

God often reminds us, however, that God is the centre. ‘ I AM the LORD’ is a consistent biblical refrain. God is the centre of all things; we are not. From this centre, God has created us within a most staggering duality: we are at once made in his image, responsible for being God’s image on earth and being stewards of all creation; simultaneously we are but a breath in a universe far larger and more complex than we can comprehend. How humbling is this role, and what a privilege!

As part of this role, God has instructed us to care for creation. We are doing a terrible job - there is no denying that we are destroying the earth. To halt the damage, we know (in theory at least) that individual discipline and massive collective action is required. But something more than the tick-box mentality of reducing my carbon footprint and reusing plastic bags is needed. We need to put God back at the centre, faithful to him in the call to be his very restorative image, and humble in the knowledge that God’s creation will go on despite us.

Jesus calls us to do just this: we are to love God with all we have and to love our neighbour as ourselves. He invites us to seek first His Kingdom, with the assurance that all things will be added unto us as we do this. From this all things will flow, including creation care: love of neighbour will manifest itself through personal action which acknowledges that climate change hits our poorest neighbours hardest. The coming of God’s kingdom will be manifest in structural change such as fundamental policy shifts, and God’s justice will be felt in the availability of adaptation funds to poor countries. If we keep ourselves at the centre, however, these things will not happen. Jesus gives us a stark reminder of the further fruits of our choices: the first will be last, and the last will be first.

In dying there is a new life. The post-Chernobyl landscape reminds us that life goes on, despite the worth of our mistakes. On the cross Jesus reminds us that the worst thing in history - the killing of Christ - can be transformed into the most life-giving thing. If we let these realities inform our faith and actions, we will be in a position to genuinely practice creation care.

ACTION POINTS:

Jesus gave equal importance to action and contemplation; he worked hard all day and retreated to the hills for long nights of silence, prayer and rest. This combination is the key to practicing many aspects of faith, including creation care.

1. CONTEMPLATE: stay still for 10 minutes and simply look at what has been made. Don’t think, just look and be.

2. ACT: Tearfund have a great booklet called For Tomorrow Too - a practical guide to how we can return God to the centre and practise creation care. Can I encourage you to order your own copy and commit to undertaking some of its suggestions - follow this link for more info http://www.tearfund.org/Campaigning/Climate+change+and+disasters/For+tomorrow+too.htm

‘Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the desert.’ (Luke 4:1 NIV)

‘Going on from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John. They were in a boat with their father Zebedee, preparing their nets. Jesus called them, and immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.’ (Luke 4:21-22 NIV)

Power, pleasure and pain

Today, vulnerability is a worldly anathema. For me, the mere sound of the word conjures up images of tender flesh that is moments away from some kind of pain. My immediate reaction to ‘intentionally’ being vulnerable, therefore, is a hasty ‘no’ and a rush to protect, secure and defend. This is also what most of the world does; relentlessly pursuing security and comfort in an ongoing attempt to avoid pain. So, I hardily want to write about vulnerability, much less practice it.

Vulnerability brings freedom

Christ’s invitation to us to surrender all and follow him is truly transformational. Jesus willingly goes into the desert. Taking nothing, eating nothing, and not knowing what to expect, his spiritual and physical vulnerability is acute.

When he emerges from the desert, he wastes no time in inviting James and John to be as vulnerable. Why? In his vulnerability, Christ experienced God as his protector in the face of great challenge and temptation. The experience that he was truly his Father’s Son set him free from needing to find his identity and security in the false wealth and power offered by the tempter. Christ offered this same freedom to his disciples immediately.

Vulnerability brings healing

To be vulnerable is to risk pain. The Cross, forty days of fasting, giving up job security, leaving family; these can be painful things - painful because these acts of vulnerability allow the ‘world to be kicked out of us.’ The willingness to endure this ‘holy pain’ frees us from the fear of earthly pain. As Jesus and the disciples show, willing journeys into vulnerability bring us the very security and comfort we so desperately seek. As St Paul knew so well: ‘When I am weak, then I am strong.’

The less I fear pain, the more open and present I am able to be. The more vulnerable I am, the more I am able to really feel the fullness of God and God’s creation - the inseparable agony and ecstasy of life.  The cross bears witness to this, as does every transformative painful experience we undergo. I am yet to experience a form of healing that is not painful in some way - be it through a needle or with a knife, on a physiotherapists table or dentists chair, or time on a counsellors couch or good friends shoulder.

Vulnerability brings unity

Vulnerability allows us to be more sensitive to the pain of others and hence, less likely to be the cause of pain ourselves. The compassion for our neighbours that comes from being vulnerable will bring us closer to each other, and much less likely to continue the harmful patterns that we are seemingly powerless to stop (ironically, the staggering pain caused by things like militarism and climate change are direct consequences of our inexorable pursuit of security and comfort). When we are vulnerable, we become dependent on others, as others become dependent on us.

ACTION POINTS: being vulnerable

1. Recall a painful moment or period in your life that had a positive outcome. Thank God for the transformation of that pain.

2. To practice vulnerability is, quite simply, to allow yourself to be vulnerable. Consider one area where you find false security - for many of us this will have to do with money and/or relationships. Hear Christ’s invitation to ‘come, follow me,’ and try surrendering this to Him, knowing that the Holy Spirit is ever near you as your protector and guide.

3. Practice vulnerability with someone. Consider someone you feel would benefit from you being more vulnerable and intentionally seek opportunity to practice vulnerability with them.