We Belong to the Earth: Earth Day 2016

   Today’s reading is from “Thinking Like a Mountain,” by Aldo Leopold. The story is about wolves, deer, mountains, and a young man on his way to becoming a leader in ecological education.

As a young man, Leopold and a group of foresters stopped for lunch at work. Their workplace was the side of a mountain, overlooking a forests, meadows, and a burbling stream. Leopold saw movement by the stream—a wolf and half a dozen pups. He tells what happens next:
In those days we had never heard of passing up a chance to kill a wolf. In a second we were pumping lead into the pack, but with more excitement than accuracy: how to aim a steep downhill shot is always confusing. When our rifles were empty, the old wolf was down, and a pup was dragging a leg into impassable slide-rocks.
We reached the old wolf in time to watch a fierce green fire dying in her eyes. I realized then, and have known ever since, that there was something new to me in those eyes, something known only to her and to the mountain. I was young then, and full of trigger-itch; I thought that because fewer wolves meant more deer, that no wolves would mean hunters' paradise. But after seeing the green fire die, I sensed that neither the wolf nor the mountain agreed with such a view.
 Since then I have lived to see state after state extirpate its wolves. I have watched the face of many a newly wolfless mountain, and seen the south-facing slopes wrinkle with a maze of new deer trails. I have seen every edible bush and seedling browsed, first to anaemic (sic) desuetude, and then to death. I have seen every edible tree defoliated to the height of a saddlehorn.
I now suspect that just as a deer herd lives in mortal fear of its wolves, so does a mountain live in mortal fear of its deer. And perhaps with better cause, for while a buck pulled down by wolves can be replaced in two or three years, a range pulled down by too many deer may fail of replacement in as many decades.
So also with cows. The cowman who cleans his range of wolves does not realize that he is taking over the wolf's job of trimming the herd to fit the range. He has not learned to think like a mountain. Hence we have dustbowls, and rivers washing the future into the sea. (130-132)

       The thought of shooting into a pack of frolicking wolf pups appalls me.
Maybe that’s because I see with the eyes of a grandma—I see babies playing with their mama, not a threat to my livelihood. Leopold and the others in the story see wolves as competition for the food resources they all want from the deer. Deer are commodities; they have measurable value as meat. From the men’s perspective here, wolves threaten to lower the total value of the deer herd. Deer become scarcer, making the meat more difficult to find and harvest. That’s why they kill the wolves without hesitation.
       There’s a third point of view that avoids the sentimental anthropomorphism of my perspective and calls into question the commodities-view of Leopold and his companions. To the mountain, wolves are saviors. They prevent complete deforestation. A deer herd without predators will eat vegetation faster than plants can regenerate. Habitats disappear; food becomes scarce; deer die of starvation. And soil is washed off the naked mountainside so no new plants can grow.
Leopold’s story reminds us that everything is connected. When we destroy one part of a system, the system as a whole tends to die. His own blind ignorance of the interplay among the wolves, the deer, and the mountain illustrates why Leopold spent most of his life helping the rest of us see what he saw that day.
When planning today’s worship service, I chose the theme of Earth Day because of the 7th principle of Unitarian Universalism: We affirm and promote the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part. The interdependent web analogy has always spoken to me in a deeply spiritual way. The word “religion” itself has its roots in the Latin “religare,” meaning “to bind,” and “religio,” meaning “obligation, bond, reverence.” Connection forms the beating heart of religion—linguistically and spiritually.
Physically, all existence contains the same chemical molecules. Stars, planets, and all of space; the air we breathe, the soil and water that sustains life, all plants and animals—including us—owe our existence to the same source as the stars. That’s what science tells us. It’s also what many religious traditions tell us. The Hebrew Bible, also known as the Christian Old Testament, begins with: “In the beginning when God created[a] the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void” (Gen. 1:1). From the void, God produces light, earth, and all the plants and animals.
The Tao de Ching, foundation of Taoism (translated into English as “The Way”), says: "The Way gave birth to unity; unity gave birth to duality; duality gave birth to trinity; trinity gave birth to the myriad creatures." (Daodejing, 4th century BCE)[13] (“Creation Myths” Wikipedia). All existence is descended from “The Way,” all the varieties of life beginning from one.
Other creation stories, such as one from the Maori of New Zealand, tell that existence emanates from the separation of two divine beings—or from the dismembered body parts of one or more of these gods. In all of these cases, all existence begins from one substance. Everything is connected.
But the concept of interdependence implies even more than the connection of common origins. Many other traditions describe humanity as arising from the ground. Sacred buildings in Laguna pueblo communities are built with a hole in the floor to represent the place where people first emerged from the earth. In the second chapter of Genesis, the Bible presents a second creation story:
In the day that the Lord[a] God made the earth and the heavens, when no plant of the field was yet in the earth and no herb of the field had yet sprung up—for the Lord God had not caused it to rain upon the earth, and there was no one to till the ground; but a stream would rise from the earth, and water the whole face of the ground— then the Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground,[b] and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and the man became a living being. And the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east; and there he put the man whom he had formed. Out of the ground the Lord God made to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food, the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. (Gen. 2:4-9)
Interdependence means that our connections to all existence are what sustain us—and at the same time, sustain existence. Leopold discovers that the system needs all parts to remain healthy, that the disappearance of the wolf decimates the deer and the mountain. Such interdependence is implied in the creation stories from cultures around the world, suggesting that we humans have understood the spiritual nature of our relationship to the Earth from the beginning.
Over the first couple weeks of December 2015, 195 countries negotiated an agreement at the 2015 United Nations Conference on Climate Change, known as the Paris Agreement. The agreement calls for concrete action to limit greenhouse gas emissions. To become binding, the agreement must be ratified by 55 countries. On Friday, April 22, 2016, representatives met to begin the ratification process. April 22 is, not coincidentally, Earth Day. In response to the Paris agreement, faith leaders from around the world created an Interfaith Climate Change Statement to World Leaders. They write:
Statement by Religious and Spiritual Leaders On The Occasion Of the UN Secretary General’s High Level Signature Ceremony for the Paris Agreement

Ahead of the Paris Agreement Signing Ceremony at the United Nations Headquarters on 22nd April 2016, as religious and spiritual leaders, we stand together to urge all Heads of State to promptly sign and ratify the Paris Agreement.
Caring for the Earth is our shared responsibility. Each one of us has a “moral responsibility to act,” as so powerfully stated by the Pope’s Encyclical and in the climate change statements by Buddhist, Christian, Hindu, Jewish, Muslim, Sikh, and other faith leaders [1].
Humanity is at a crucial turning point. We as faith communities recognize that we must begin a transition away from polluting fossil fuels and towards clean renewable energy sources. It is clear that for many people significant lifestyle changes will have to be made. We must strive for alternatives to the culture of consumerism that is so destructive to ourselves and to our planet.
. . .
The global collaboration by all nations is proof that our shared values are far greater than any differences that divide us. It demonstrates that the sense of collective responsibility shared by all nations and society is far more powerful than the recklessness and greed of the few.
Climate change presents our global family with the opportunity to embark on a path of spiritual renewal defined by deeper awareness and greater ecological action. Every act to protect and care for all beings connects us to one another, deepening the spiritual dimension of our lives. We must reflect on the true nature of our interrelationship to the Earth. It is not a resource for us to exploit at our will.

       To act, to change how we live in this world in recognition of our interdependence on each other and on the Earth, requires transformation as radical as Saul’s conversion experience on the road to Damascus. The scales fell from his eyes and he transformed from Saul, persecutor Jesus followers, to Paul, the originator of Christianity. Consider what it will take to transform from people who value comfort over sustainability to people who honor our interdependence with nature enough to make changes that preserve ecosystems.
       In a book he spent the final years of his life crafting, Aldo Leopold asserts that the only way people will ever treat the Earth with the care it needs is to develop what he calls a Land Ethic. He explains that we have developed ethics as a means for getting along in community with each other. One person alone can pretty much do as they please, but in order to live together, we need to consider the needs of others. Most people acknowledge their ethical responsibilities to other individual people and to their communities. Think of the Golden Rule as a foundational statement of ethics.
       The only way people will be able to treat the Earth ethically is to acknowledge our own place in the ecological community. Leopold writes:
The land ethic simply enlarges the boundaries of the community to include soils, waters, plants, and animals, or collectively: the land.
This sounds simple: do we not already sing our love for and obligation to the land of the free and the home of the brave? Yes, but just what and whom do we love? Certainly not the soil, which we are sending helter-skelter down river. Certainly not the waters, which we assume have no function except to turn turbines, float barges, and carry off sewage. Certainly not the plants, of which we exterminate whole communities
without batting an eye. Certainly not the animals, of which we have already extirpated many of the largest and most beautiful species. A land ethic of course cannot prevent the alteration, management, and use of these ‘resources,’ but it does affirm their right to continued existence, and, at least in spots, their continued existence in a natural state. In short, a land ethic changes the role of Homo sapiens from conqueror of the land-community to plain member and citizen of it. It implies respect for his fellow-members, and also respect for the community as such.


     When we can feel, in our hearts—in our very bones—that we are members of the land-community, we will naturally develop the same ethical obligations to the Earth as to each other. Until then, we can remind each other of our interdependence. We can encourage each other to remember how our lives affect the ecosystem as a whole. We can help each other to consider how our choices impact other members of the land-community. We can practice thinking like a mountain until it becomes natural to think that way.
      
Prayer of Compassion
(By St. Basil the Great, 330-379.) [Basil of Caesarea]
O God, enlarge within us the sense of
fellowship with all living things,
our brothers the animals to whom thou
gavest the earth as their home in
common with us.
We remember with shame that in the past
we have exercised the high dominion
of man with ruthless cruelty
so that the voice of the earth,
which should have gone up to thee
in song, has been a groan of travail.
May we realize that they live not for
us alone but for themselves and for
thee, and that they love
the sweetness of life.







Sources:
  
2015 United Nations Climate Change Conference. Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2015_United_Nations_Climate_Change_Conference






Clark, Jerry L. "Thus Spoke Chief Seattle: The Story of An Undocumented Speech." Prologue Magazine 18.1 (Spring 1985). http://www.archives.gov/publications/prologue/1985/spring/chief-seattle.html


The Cry of Creation: A Call for Climate Justice. An Interfaith Study Guide on Global Warming. Earth Ministry. http://www.interfaithpowerandlight.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/CryOfCreation.pdf



Interfaith Statement on Climate Change. http://www.interfaithstatement2016.org/statement

Leopold, Aldo. “Thinking Like a Mountain.” from “Arizona and New Mexico” in A Sand County Almanac and Sketches Here and There. London, Oxford UP, 1949. 132-133.

Prayer of Compassion. (By St. Basil the Great, 330-379.) http://earthministrytemp.org/worship/prayers/#opening

A Sand County Almanac on AldoLeopold.org. http://www.aldoleopold.org/AldoLeopold/almanac.shtml





Comments