1 Samuel 3:1-21 Acts 2:37-47 Luke 21:5-19

Is it not interesting that it takes a long time, many tries, to get our attention? Not only did God call Samuel multiple times before Eli recognized what was actually going on, but God had given warnings to Eli about his sons numerous times, as well. Eli, who was technically innocent, was not innocent because “he did not restrain” his sons’ behavior. Eli, to his credit, accepts the judgment of God. But I wonder if we don’t feel mistreated when we have to suffer for the actions of others, without recognizing that what we do not speak out against, we condone by our silence? We can see this clearly in those who did not speak out against the Nazi campaigns against the Jews, but can we see as clearly our complicity in social, economic, and environmental injustice in our own day? Will we accept the judgment of God with the grace of Eli?

We see in the Acts passage that the appropriate response to the truth about ourselves and our actions is repentance, a complete turnaround, revolution, in the way we live. Acts records the reorientation of those who have “heard” towards one another, towards the building of a new world through willing sacrifices involved in mutual care, that is, genuine community.

The cost of this revolution is everything, everything, that is, except one’s deepest being. All that is familiar to us—our preconceptions about the world, our notions of who we are, of what is important—are ultimate false and will return to chaos. The picture of disorder that Jesus gives us of the End Times images the implosion of all we had trusted in, and the images are theoretically feasible on many levels. We can read into them political disaster, economic collapse, or psychological breakdown. They can be seen as a symbol of the unstable inbetween-ness in the transition from one paradigmatic order to another.

On the other hand, reading these images through an environmental lens gives us an all too literal picture of climatic disruption. We are already feeling pressures from environmental degradation all over the world: water scarcity, food insecurity, competition for energy resources, insurrections, massive migrations.

Readings 6-10-11

Surely Ezekiel was speaking to the environmental crisis today! I have separated the Ezekiel reading into two parts. The first, which extends from verses 17 to 22, could not present a clearer picture of human history, and applies most clearly to the consequences for poor nations of how developed countries (particularly ours) have been dealing with world resources and the environment. It bears repetition here: “you pushed with flank and shoulder, and butted at all the weak animals with your horns until you scattered them far and wide.” Our decimation of the buffalo herds on which many Native Americans depended is only one example of an attitude and pattern of behavior we (western, developed nations) have repeated countless times all over the world. Even now, we cut denude land, flatten primal forests, and claim ownership of precious water resources.

Moreover, we not only rush to claim world resource for ourselves, but we pollute and defile in the process. God confronts us: “Is it not enough for you to feed on the good pasture, but you must tread down with your feet the rest of your pasture? When you drink of clear water, must you foul the rest with your feet? 19 And must my sheep eat what you have trodden with your feet, and drink what you have fouled with your feet?” The fact that the toxic mining practices of multinational corporations not only displace tribal peoples in other countries, but poison landscapes with toxic chemicals that seep into soil and water supplies is only one illustration of countless practices that leave waste and poison behind for the poor and for future generations.

From verse 23, God sets up his shepherd to protect his sheep, and God addresses his sheep in the last verse as “you.” But lest we be too quick to claim that God is on our side, let us look at just who constitutes the flock that the shepherd protects from ravaging beasts and foreign armies. It is not us. Rather, it is those who suffer the consequences of our standard of living, our true values, our individualism.

The writer of the Letter to the Hebrews distinguishes between the sanctuary raised by mortals and the sanctuary that God has set up, the pattern on earth with the divine truth of which it is “a sketch and shadow.” We can read this as a contrast between Judaism and Christianity, or one strain of faith versus another. But if we look with a wider lens, we might read this passage as pointing to the metaphysical fact that we know only a small slice of reality, but the truth is infinitely larger. Developments in science are a good metaphor for this contrast of a limited understanding versus the mystery of reality. Until relatively recently, modern science has proceeded by analysis, breaking things into smaller and smaller parts in order to attain true understanding of the world. However, we have been undergoing a revolution in scientific understanding (several, in fact) that has not only thrown this assumption into question, but is making the old model “obsolete.” The science of ecology illustrates this revolution: understanding of the part is embedded in understanding its place in the whole. My personal concerns, or the concerns of my group—more than that, my identity and that of my group—is not apart from that of others, but a part of others. My relationship with God is not a private affair; it is deeply involved in my relationship with others and with the world that is our common home.

In the gospel reading, we cannot help but identify with Mary, who has chosen the “better part,” but if we give the story more than a superficial reading, we realize that we actually identify with Martha. In Christ, The New has come, the Truth is among us, but we act according to our training, our habitual manner of relating. Rather than sit still and open up before reality, we busy ourselves maintaining the old order—all the while thinking that is the right thing to do. What is in fact asked of us, but a revolution?

Ezekiel 1:28-3:3 Hebrews 4:14-5:6 Luke 9:28-36 (NRSV)

How do these readings help us reflect on our relation to the natural environment? I notice that in both the Ezekiel and the Luke passage, the glory of God is pictured in terms of nature. But we must remember that “nature” is not merely the romanticism of rainbows, but also hold the potential for awe. In the Luke passage we encounter the frightening experience of suddenly being overtaken by cloud on a mountain. It is a disorienting experience; the senses one normally uses to orient oneself to the world are stilled. The inability to see gives a feeling of directionlessness; the only compass available to us is trust. Their senses stilled, the disciples hear the voice of God and are pointed to the true Compass of Christ.

What would it mean for Christ to be our compass for how we relate to the natural world? How do we usually orient ourselves? Convenience? Comfort? Economics? Politics? What would happen if we were to tune in to the voice of Christ as the primary compass by which we behaved with regard to the natural world today?