Unbelief and Belief in God and Words

Nathan Aaberg —  February 29, 2024 — Leave a comment

So I’m back.

Last year, as I’ll describe in a future blog, I worked two demanding jobs for two non-profits in the food and farming field. This squeezed the rest of my life. Even though I continued to think about all things Creation every day, I took a break from the blog to leave room for my family and my health.

And to be very candid, even as I took a sabbatical of sorts, I questioned whether I should continue to make this blog a life pursuit. Was what I was writing, I asked myself, significant to anyone else?

Adding further sharpness to that question was turning 60 and experiencing the limits of my constitution in my working life. I ran into my limits while appreciating more acutely that my life itself had limits. That created habitat attractive to other questions and doubts.

What do I want to give my energies to going forward? Is diving into the ideas that this blog has been my exploring the right thing to invest in? Or should I devote more energies to acting in the world out of my faith for Creation?  

Even deeper questions, questions I thought I had long ago resolved, surfaced.

Do I believe?

Am I willing to rest my life choices and convictions on commitment to God and Jesus? And if I am, how does it make sense to do so?

How, I sometimes wonder (and you may find this heretical), could God choose to give us the Bible as we have it as a major revelation of himself when it can be read so many ways and when there are threads within it that can be woven in many varieties of cloth? Why do so many of those varieties of cloth result in Christians who believe God created this world and then treat it, collectively and individually, with so much indifference?

The following tweet by a thoughtful rancher and land steward out West encapsulated it all perfectly. You can tell from her words that she has met many people of the Christian faith who are completely indifferent:

I am horrified. I know that you are horrified. But if you went to the average church and expressed your horror and asked for prayers for Creation, they would literally not know what to do with you. 

 

But Here I Am…Paying Attention

When I find myself asking all of these questions, I am a little envious of people whose faith in God and Jesus seems so secure, deeply rooted, and unshakable.

I believe. Yet I need God’s help with my unbelief.

After 60 years on this earth, I am more convinced than ever that there is more to life than the random interaction of atoms. I also find myself compelled (and I can find no other word for it) in heart and mind by the Bible and the God I find there and by that same God I find reflected in Creation. I find myself captivated, thanks in part to The Bible Project, by how the whole Bible fits together and by how Jesus fits within that whole. 

I have also come to understand this after ten years of writing — any attempt at weaving the threads of the Bible together into a satisfying and whole cloth depends on you and I really paying attention. This applies to Creation and much else that relates to how we live faith-lives.

All too often we don’t actually see what is in front of us, around us, and even inside of us. We get carried along. Sometimes we are carried along by our busy-ness and our eagerness to get on to the next thing. Sometimes we get carried along by what we expect to see or experience. The culture in which we swim and breathe can blind us. The theologies we have been taught can cause us to miss things or interpret things in a way that isn’t fair or respectful to what is right in front of us.

I believe, too, that is very possible for us to have hearts that have gone numb. We can no longer know at a deep level what really gives us life and energy. The capabilities we have that come from being made in God’s image can be covered up by the habits we fall into. Confusing the Christian faith-life with pledging alliance to the correct theology can be one of the most effective blinders to actually paying attention.

Often we need to look anew and question anew. We need to pay attention to all that is in the Bible, in Creation, and in our hearts. 

 

A Signpost in the Psalms

I recently read through all of the Psalms. It was not the first time, but in the process I saw new things I had not remembered before. Here is just one of many verses that struck me:

Psalm 145:16 

You open your hand; you satisfy the desire of every living thing.

The desire of every living thing – from fish and birds to moss and plants and even lichens – is something the Bible is mindful of. Any theology that ignores the desire of every living thing is inherently incomplete. A Christian faith-life that ignores the desires of the living things around us is unwhole.

And I would be so bold as to say that its incompleteness is not just equivalent to a puzzle missing a minor piece on the edge. It is like an engine missing its valves or its gas tank. The absence actually causes the whole not to work.

As Wendell Berry wrote, “We are are holy creatures living among other holy creatures in a world that is holy.”

Are you aware and thoughtful of the desires of every living thing? How do we balance those desires with our own lives, much less our civilization? It almost seems too much to bear. At the very least, it should force us to question how we and our community and our economy and our laws relate to Creation.

Maybe that is the role of people like me, people who live in both belief and doubt. Maybe we are here to pay attention, to balance off people so set in the narrower tracks of their faith and lives that they no longer pay attention to the world and the many subtleties and cross currents of both the Bible and Creation.

And perhaps we are in the better place to respond (as I did) to Ariel and say, “Yes, you are right. This is a precious world. And yes, I am horrified and feel despair about what people have done to God’s world. And, no actually, I can’t really explain why other people who believe this is God’s world don’t care. But the fact that they don’t care doesn’t mean God doesn’t care.”

 

Do I Believe in Words?

I sat down to write this with a general but fairly good idea of the parameters of what I intended to write. But as I let myself write, ideas and thoughts emerged that did not fit into my initial mental outline. This is when writing becomes even harder. You want the process to be smooth and predictable. Instead, you find yourself wrestling and slogging. 

And why engage in that struggle? Why does one combination of words formed from a 26-letter code seem more right than another combination of words? Why do they matter? Don’t real tangible things – like trees, houses, computers, etc. – matter more?

Maybe that is one more reason why I question this blog writing and even my desire to write a book. Maybe what I really question are words themselves.

Do I believe in words? Do I believe that words matter?

Because of how much I care about God’s earth, I’ve tended to see the production of words as somehow a lesser form of action than actually changing how God’s earth is treated. After all, if matter matters, shouldn’t I be devoting time and energy in the world of matter? Planting trees. Restoring wetlands. Farming in ways that produce nutritious food while renewing the life of the soil, of landscapes, of water?

Ironically, I like words. I love to read, especially books with a skillful and lyrical approach to words and ideas. I find a certain kind of felicity from using words in writing and speaking and especially asking questions. I felt I could not not write this blog, which seems like something you could call a calling for words.

So why would I devalue what gives me pleasure and that allows me to create with God’s help?

Perhaps it is partly because my calling, the fact that I cannot look away from God’s earth and see it treated so indifferently, is all about tangible life around us. 

So I’ve meditated further on words. And I’ve begun have a better appreciation for their deeper value and importance beyond the obvious value of communication.

Note that in Genesis God uses words to interact with matter, to call upon it to move from a state to another, to develop boundaries and to bring forth new complexity. I would suggest this is both command and invitation that gives matter direction but also creative freedom. 

And isn’t it interesting that humanity’s first work – the naming of the animals – is creativity with words? 

Words can be used for evil and wrong. That cannot be missed in the Bible. By words, you will know the intentions and state of the heart of the people around you.

Note, too, that in the Bible words have power even when used by people. There are blessings and curses. The power of the Spirit at Pentecost is revealed by an explosion of ability to use words and languages. 

One of most astonishing elements of the Gospel of John is how it labels Jesus as Word. And somehow through Jesus the Word all things are said to have been created. And in this Word-figure all things on heaven and earth will be unified and brought together in some kind of cosmic shalom. Not only will that mean an absence of conflict between people and between people and God. It also promises to be the whole connection of the whole universe. God, people, and Creation will not just have an absence of conflict but will be in joyous union and flourishing.

From all that, I’ve come to believe that words connect and they shape reality in the world itself. They have power. They are tied into the deeper structure of the universe. In a flight of fancy I even see the parallel between how the Bible depicts the creation of humanity – the merging of breath/spirit and matter — and what words themselves are – the merging of spirit/thought and the vibrating molecules all around us. 

 

At Home With Words and Deeds

I admit that I am out of my depth here. Probing the metaphysical meaning of words is a good indication that one is not in Kansas or normal company anymore. I even feel a certain self-consciousness about being so candid about my doubts and my tendency towards this mysticism. 

But at the edge of certainty and feeling alone in my convictions, I feel a surprising settledness. It is as if I have climbed to the top of a ladder with nothing to hold onto with my hands. Yet, I stand. My legs feel solid and well-braced. Even as my head says I should feel fear, I find my body balanceing. My arms no longer seek security but they do not know what to do with themselves. And yet I stand.

The purchase of balance I have comes from things that are not enough in themselves to give 100 percent stability and security.

The mysticism I find true and that resonates with what I encounter in Creation is, I realize, Biblical.

I cannot imagine not writing, not engaging with words in other ways. I need also to act beyond words, but words are also my way of acting.

I have believed what I have written. I have found belief, perhaps my own unique belief, through what I have written.

I have received emails from readers thanking me for particular blog posts. That is something.

I am coming to accept that I am who I am and that God’s abundant love is all around me and everyone  and everything. And that following what is my way, however modest it may be, is what I should give myself to. I cannot be concerned about what my particular impact is. 

Being faithful and faith-full is what I need to be about. And part of my faithfulness is to be candid about my doubts even as I proceed.

There are many more ideas and topics I want to explore around whole faith faith-lives. I also want to share more of the stories of Jesus followers (and others) who are striving to live out a whole faith. I need to wrestle with what it means to be faithful in a whole faith way in the midst of increasing climate chaos. Somehow I will find the time to do that.

Look for more blog posts to come. Look for more words.

 

P.S. While I was not writing this blog, a number of people found my blog and signed up to receive updates via email. Thanks very much for that. I also received a few direct emails expressing thanks for particular posts. I’m very grateful and pray that your convictions around cherishing Creation will grow stronger. I pray, too, that you will find others of faith who share those convictions. And not every post is so long. 🙂

permalink

What Creation Stewardship Looks Like

Nathan Aaberg —  April 30, 2023 — Leave a comment

Whether you call our obligation and calling to tend God’s earth “stewardship” or “Creation care,” it’s easy to feel like the concept is a little vague. This is especially true when it comes to producing food.

So I encourage you to watch this video of a webinar hosted by Food Animal Concerns Trust (FACT) to get a sense of what Creation stewardship looks like on a small scale. In the video, Kirsten Robertson details how she creatively found natural solutions to replace the chemical dewormers she had previously been using on her goats and sheep at her family’s 10-acre farmstead in South Carolina.

As you’ll see, Kirsten brings both an engineering background and extensive grazing experience to her situation. I believe you’ll enjoy the thoughtfulness and logic of her presentation’s structure while also appreciating her tenacity and values. Please enjoy.

There are several things that struck me about the story of Kirsten’s creative stewardship journey.

The first was how it occurred to her to study how grazing animals in nature generally avoid dying from parasites.

In my interview with John Kempf, he shared one of his favorite Bible passages – Job 12: 7-10  That passage especially resonates with Kirsten’s story.

The passage reads: But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you, or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish in the sea inform you. Which of these does not know that the hand of the LORD has done this? In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.

How often do our systems of producing food and even living itself come out of careful learning from Creation? They should.

The second was how Kirsten learned as she went. She didn’t have all of the details of her new systems in place when she stopped using chemical dewormers. She had to make adjustments. New insights came to her as she proceeded. Her faith and persistence were rewarded. Creation stewardship is a lively, interactive endeavor. It builds our wisdom muscles.

Another thing that stood out to me was how the characteristics of specific plants, like black locust and chicory, were helpful allies to her. What a wonderful example of how knowing the “players” in Creation is valuable and fascinating. I encourage you to launch into the study of Creation as a lifelong pursuit.

You can’t help but notice that Kirsten’s approach was complex. She made the farmstead landscape more complex in terms of layout and vegetation management. This is a far different from relying on chemicals while ignoring the factors that made the parasite infections happen in the first place.

The chemicals-dependent approach that she moved away from is a microcosm of our dominant food and farming system. Our tendency is to create “simple” industrial approaches built on our chemistry and engineering prowess without caring about the impacts of those approaches on our neighbors and Creation. We need humility to learn from Creation. We  need to consider its needs and patterns.

Perhaps this is why the Bible teaches us that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. When we work with Creation, we should remember that God is looking over our shoulders and observing whether reverence for God is in our hearts.

And what I ultimately responded to in Kirsten’s story was the joy and life that emerged from it.

Stopping the use of the chemical dewormers allowed dung beetles to return with benefits for the soil.  Diversifying her homestead’s landscape attracted other wildlife as well.

And that changed the direction of Kirsten’s life. She was once close to giving up on their farmstead. By learning from Creation and creatively applying its lessons, she ultimately found her enjoyment of life there resurrected.

permalink

A Voice for Belonging to a Church

Nathan Aaberg —  February 28, 2023 — Leave a comment

I received a number of thoughtful responses to my last blog post entitled Longing for the Belonging of Church. For this I was grateful. What I had written was quite personal and, frankly, counter to what most Christians would think of as being Christian. 

Below I share one of the responses. As you will see, the writer’s words, which he and I edited slightly for this blog post, also come from the heart. He communicates the challenges and joys of being part of a church while also being a voice in that church for the deep value of Creation to God. I admire his faithfulness and compassionate spirit. 

Hi Nathan,

I enjoyed your most recent blog piece and especially appreciate your willingness to share your struggles with finding a church that reflects the whole of your Christian values.

I’ve been reading Surprised by Hope by N.T. Wright, which is chock-full with both the hope of the new creation and a radically healed Earth. I’ve wept at the strength and conviction of his writing, words that I’ve felt strongly in my heart but could never articulate very well. I think you’ve mentioned that book as an influence also, yes?

One of things that attracts me to Wright’s writing is his conversational style, with portions sounding like they could be delivered in a lecture (and I think he notes that portions actually were). In this way, his writing reminds me of C.S. Lewis, coincidentally or not, who also had ties to Oxford.

Which brings me to a word of encouragement, from C.S. Lewis. One of the things I recall poignantly from Mere Christianity is Lewis describing Christianity as a large house with many rooms off the “main hall”. Each room (church, denomination, etc.), has its own characteristics (and flaws), but his observation is that fellowship and community develop within the room as people share life together. His encouragement is to “not stay in the hall” but to enter a room.

My heart aches for you and Mayumi not being able to find Christian fellowship together at a local church. I applaud your willingness to ask yourself hard questions in humility, like “Am I being unforgiving”—it’s a question many of us need to ask when we become frustrated with others, especially our leaders (in our churches, nation, world, etc.).  I also find I need to remind myself of other virtues as well, like forbearance, humility, and charity (caritas/love), even when I don’t feel like being charitable toward others.

But I have found that if I’m willing to plug into a place and do it with some virtues, and find other people grounded in virtue, even if they don’t think quite like me about restoring the Earth, they’re at least open and curious to hearing about it, precisely because they’ve grown to know and love me as a person.

I’ve also left some communities because the fit didn’t seem right. But my overwhelming impression was that my leaving grieved those who stayed, because they knew I had something different to offer while I was there.

For myself, I’m a cradle Catholic and find both hope in figures like Pope Francis and frustration with lack of action and what I perceive as political bias on behalf of U.S. bishops and their lack of action on things like climate change. But I stay in the room, knowing that I’m slowly influencing others.

I thought I had our pastor on board for solar panels about five years ago. We still don’t have panels, at which I sometimes shake my head in exasperation. But he did recently announce that as part of our capital campaign (part of which involves solar) there would be a Care of Creation committee to ensure upgrades were as sustainable as possible—and he asked me to lead it. In particular, he also wanted to make sure that promotional materials that are distributed to every member of the church highlight the importance of putting our values of caring for the earth and future generations into practice. I don’t know a hoot about building sustainability and energy efficiency, but I’m glad to be at the table.

When I first met him, I never would have dreamed he’d designate a Care of Creation committee for the capital campaign. Although pastoral in person, he is also at times a strident conservative, which rubbed me the wrong way.

There was even a time when my wife and I and some close friends thought seriously about leaving that particular Catholic parish in large part because of what we perceived in some of his homilies. But we have stayed, offered up our frustrations in prayer, humbly tried to enter into a dialogue with him and others, and then rolled up our sleeves to make it more of a place where we wanted to stay. It’s far from perfect, but it’s our community.

A few weeks ago, our pastor, who frequently preaches on the theme of God’s love for us, went on to also say “God loves his Creation.” I beamed. I would like to think it was partly my influence in continuing to beat that drum. He still doesn’t preach on it much from the pulpit, but he did invite me to give a short reflection to the entire congregation on it this Lent, which is further affirmation that the Spirit is at work in both our hearts.

I think in part my influence was due to him being convinced that I wasn’t lobbying for something from the outside. I was committed to the community and to personal and collective spiritual growth. For example, I lead a men’s faith-sharing group (most of whom share my views on Creation care or have come to do so over time). I have also served on pastoral council, even being asked to be president. So I have some street cred, I guess.

I’m praying that you might find a church you can call home. Grapes can only grow on the vine.  And the vine has to be grafted on a rootstock, which I imagine could be painful and feel binding and awkward at first for both rootstock and vine. But only when a vine is rooted in a particular place can it sustainably bear fruit.

Blessings and peace.

permalink

Longing for the Belonging of Church

Nathan Aaberg —  January 31, 2023 — 2 Comments

I was driving home late last year on a familiar road when I saw a sign for a new church that I had not seen before.

There was no traditional church building in sight. But there was a barn with fresh red metal siding and a metal roof. That, I realized, was the church’s sanctuary. Intriguing.

Perhaps this was it. Perhaps the alternative approach to church architecture signalled an assembly of believers where Creation mattered, where people really believed God loves the whole world.  Could this be a community of faith where Creation’s presence in the Bible was reflected in theology, culture, and way of living? Maybe this would be a place where I could belong.

After pulling away from church a number of years ago, I’ve longed for belonging around faith and Jesus. Seeing that new church in a non-traditional building brought that old familiar pang back to the surface of my heart.

When I got home, I promptly visited the church’s website. It was bright and well-designed. Its photos and text highlighted the church’s racial diversity. The faces, set against a background of wooden barn walls, were friendly, enthusiastic. Promising, I thought.

I found the “What We Believe” section of the website. Hope crashed into reality.

 

Not a word about Creation. Not a single word.

I have to admit this – in that moment, for a moment, I questioned myself.

Maybe I am wrong, I thought. Maybe there’s a good reason why so many churches don’t speak about Creation or care about it. And maybe staying away from church is a rebellion against God’s will. Doesn’t the New Testament speak clearly about the obligation and rewards of being with other followers of Jesus?

That old familiar pang pressed against my heart. Here I was again, feeling guilt for not going to church while longing for belonging in a faith community.

 

Am I Unforgiving?

Some new friends, who I met at a field walk last September at their farm, suggested a different way for me to consider my situation.

They are faithful believers who steward their land carefully and attend a church in Indiana. There they often find themselves alone in expressing a Creation care consciousness. They are not always understood.

During the field walk, we had bonded over our common convictions. I had shared my challenges in finding a church. They wrote this in a recent email:

For us, it’s forgiveness every single time we walk into our church. It can be a struggle for fellow Christians to understand our views, but we think it’s important to lend grace and forgiveness so we can continue to educate them on this matter. People are starting to listen, starting to realize the connection we have to all of His Creation. We pray that you can find forgiveness in your heart so you can go out to disciple this to His people.

These words brought me up short.

Was that the problem? Am I not being forgiving? Was that why I couldn’t fit in and make a home at a church?

Perhaps I needed to commit myself to forgiving fellow believers as they would need to forgive me for my own blind spots. If I repented of the judgments I was making, would I then be able to find a church where I could belong?

 

A Buck Outside the Window

More recently, I was having a conversation with a coworker at the nonprofit I work for in a room with a wide window. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement in one of our organization’s farm fields roughly 80 yards away. I couldn’t help myself. In mid-conversation, I turned to look closer. Through a row of trees between us and the field, I saw a deer. It was a young buck. The head it held high had a small set of antlers.

Then it strode through the row of trees and onto the lawn south of our office. This was midday. It was now in full view and less than 30 yards away in the middle of a subdivision* in a Midwest town.

By now, I was no longer pretending to be engaged the conversation. We both watched as the buck strode across the lawn. Its eyes were watchful. Its posture powerful.

He passed out of sight. The lawn seemed a wilder place even with him gone. My mind and heart were still absorbing the experience even as my coworker renewed the conversation as if nothing unusual had happened and without a word about the buck.

 

Ears to Hear

Jesus sometimes used the phrase, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” (Matthew 13:9, Mark 4:9, Luke 8:8, etc.)

In recent weeks I’ve encountered stories and insights that convince me that…… well, let me share them first and then share my conclusion.

The first came from an article in Christianity Today about Bono’s newly published memoir. In it, Bono shares his recollection of a conversation he had with Franklin Graham, the son of Billy Graham. Billy Graham, one of the most famous Christian evangelists of recent history, had invited Bono to visit him. Franklin had picked him up at the airport. From the conversation that Bono recollects, it’s clear that Franklin was dubious about whether the rockstar Bono was an authentic Christian.

“You … you really love the Lord?” (Franklin)
“Yep.” (Bono)
“Okay, you do. Are you saved?”
“Yep, and saving.”
He doesn’t laugh. No laugh.
“Have you given your life? Do you know Jesus Christ as your personal Savior?”
“Oh, I know Jesus Christ, and I try not to use him just as my personal Savior. But, you know, yes.”
“Why aren’t your songs, um, Christian songs?”
“They are!”
“Oh, well, some of them are.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, why don’t they … Why don’t we know they’re Christian songs?”
I said, “They’re all coming from a place, Franklin. Look around you. Look at the creation, look at the trees, look at the sky, look at these kinds of verdant hills. They don’t have a sign up that says, ‘Praise the Lord’ or ‘I belong to Jesus.’ They just give glory to Jesus.”

 

Killer Whale Theology

Cover of Beyond Words by Carl Safina

 

In Beyond Words: What Animals Think and Feel, ocean advocate Carl Safina opens the reader’s mind and heart to the complex world of killer whales.

Three things astonished me. The first is the very creatures themselves. There is, for example, not just one generic kind of killer whale. There are actually estimated to be eight types of killer whales. Some eat only fish, primarily salmon. Others prefer mammals. One type, much smaller than the type that eats seals off of ice flows, hunts penguins. Yet another type hunts sharks. Regardless of type, these are highly social animals with matriarchal leadership. Oddly, pods of the same type of killer whales will not socialize with other pods of the same type. They have their own cultures. Yet, killer whales in the wild have never been seen being aggressive to each other.

Their vocal communication capacity is amazing.

“Killer whales in a  group can be spread out over 150 square miles – and all be in vocal contact,” write Safina.

Having huge nerve cells for hearing and generating sounds from skulls that are sophisticated technologies, killer whales (like other dolphin species and whales) inhabit a world we can only dream of. They live, in fact, by sound.

The second remarkable thing is how little humans have known about killer whales for most of human history. It was only in 1960, just over 60 years ago, that a researcher discovered that dolphins relied on sound for so much and that eyesight was a secondary source of information. And it’s been even more recently that people have differentiated the different types of killer whales and discovered that each killer whale has its own individual personality and remarkable social intelligence.

And the third most remarkable thing?

After detailing how powerfully effective killer whales can be as hunters, with some even hunting down 30,000-pound sperm whales, Safina writes this:

“Even stranger, then, that killer whales have overturned no kayak, emptied no rowboat, and slurped no human. It is perhaps the greatest behavioral mystery on our mysterious planet.”

 

Seeing Blue

In Joni B. Cole’s excellent and warmly witty book on writing – Good Naked – she has a chapter entitled “Seeing Blue.”  In it she argues why each writer’s writing matters and is worth pouring energy into, even when it seems to have no immediate reward.

 

Here’s a paragraph in that chapter. It follows her statement that the Egyptians were likely the first civilization to create a word for the color blue and that research indicates few people until modern times really noticed it as a color (don’t worry – you’ll see the point in just a bit):

The claim that a culture with no word for a color it cannot see is supported by a contemporary study with the Himba tribe in Namibia, whose language has several words for nuanced shades of green, but nothing to describe blue. When shown a screen with eleven green squares and one distinctly blue square, the Namibians could not pick out the blue one. Yet, among the green squares that appear identical to a Westerner’s eyes, they could immediately identify the different shade. The ability to see or not see a shade speaks to its important to a culture. Now just imagine if every culture had the ability to see every kind of color!

Her point – every writer has the potential to help readers see something they could not see before.

What I also see in her words is this – our culture can blind us to truth that is right in front of us.

 

A Misfit Who Can’t Unsee Blue

The blue so many churches and so many church cultures cannot see is the life, beauty, mystery, and vulnerability of God’s Creation all around us. The blue that Franklin Graham and many other Christians cannot see is that Creation matters deeply to God and that care of Creation is part of the very core of what we were created for.

I can’t unsee that blue.

Nor can I force Christians who are happy with their churches to see that blue if they don’t want to see it. Nor do I believe that many churches, who are struggling with declines in attendance, will be open to changing their culture and theology around Creation.

So what is worse? Going to church and not belonging because I see a color in the Bible and Creation others won’t see? Or not going to church and missing the fellowship and singing of songs with other believers? Of longing for belonging to a group of people committed to God and Jesus in a whole way?

Right now, despite those old familiar pangs that emerge from hidden places in my heart when I see a church, I’ve come to accept that I am what Jon Terry called me in our conversation earlier this year.

A misfit.

That’s who I am.

Or, if one puts a more positive spin on it, you could label me an “edge walker,” a term Valerie Loorz calls herself in Church of the Wild.

Is there any reason to think such a path could be faithful to God?

When Jesus responded to the Pharisees who complained that he was healing people on the Sabbath (Luke 14:5), he asked them if they would not act on the Sabbath, despite the prohibition on work, if they heard a child or an ox stuck in a well.

When you imagine the scenario that Jesus presented to the Pharisees, you cannot help but hear the cries. Whether a child or ox fell in a well, there would have been heart-rending sounds – the pleading screams of the child, the plaintive bellows of the ox.

My ears can’t unhear the cries of Creation today. Nor can I unhear the lamentations of people whose lives are or will be in misery because of what is being done to Creation.

Pretending I couldn’t hear those cries or shutting my ears to those cries would be, in my mind, a betrayal of God.

I see the blue.

I hear, and I listen.

And what I hear (and oh how I wish I could hear the sounds of killer whale clans as they race through the ocean) resonates with the thread of Creation’s worth through the whole Bible.

So I need to act as best I can.

I pray that people out there who are like me will find each other and act out of the convictions we have from our faith.

Perhaps we will together form new wineskins?

And perhaps many years from now there will be people who drink the vintage of the wine from those wineskins and smile and nod and make more of their own and please God in the process.

 

 

*To be fair, the subdivision is not just any subdivision. It is the Prairie Crossing conservation community, where a significant amount of habitat has been set aside and managed for natural habitat. This makes the buck’s appearance just slightly less surprising. But still a remarkable moment in the middle of an afternoon.

 

 

permalink

Bravery, Goodness, and Gratitude in 2022

Nathan Aaberg —  December 31, 2022 — Leave a comment

I wrestle with staying hopeful.

My heart and mind are often painfully aware of climate chaos and the ongoing loss of the life of God’s earth

But I know those who follow Jesus and love God cannot help but to also be people who see light and hope. Everyday we are alive on this earth, we should seek out and hold onto gratitude for the goodness around us that comes from God. That awareness feeds our hearts and fuels our persistence.

As you begin a new year, I encourage you to take time to meditate on the year that has just past. What was good? Where did you sense God’s grace? What are you thankful for? What did you learn? In general? About protecting and restoring Creation as part of a whole Christian faith-life?

Here are just some of the things I discovered by looking back at my own year.

1. Bounty from the Garden: My wife Mayumi has been building the soil of our pesticide-free garden for more than 15 years. In 2022, she harvested a wonderful bounty – garlic, Asian pears, beets, kale, green beans, parsley, ground cherries, and even okra. During the height of the okra season, she was harvesting and cooking it in delicious ways almost every day. God’s Creation enables us to taste and see that God is good.

My wife harvesting okra

My wife Mayumi harvesting okra from our garden that she will cook later. Through her careful tending, the garden produced wonderful food again this past year.

2. Earthkeepers Podcast: Early in 2022, James Amadon and Forest Inslee interviewed me for their Earthkeepers Podcast, a production of Circlewood. Circlewood is an organization in the Pacific Northwest that is working to accelerate the greening of the Christian faith. I first interviewed James for this blog back in 2017 when he was still early on in his move from being a church pastor to becoming Circlewood’s executive director. I’m delighted to see that his gifts are bearing so much fruit. I was also honored that I would be chosen to be interviewed. Through the Earthkeepers Podcast, James and Forest are interviewing fascinating people on the edge of faith and ecology.

3. Good and Brave People: In 2022 I had a good conversation with the elder of a church in Davenport, Iowa. He had given a sermon about the Biblical basis and faithfulness of Creation care. He had been nervous but felt compelled to bring up the topic. We need more brave people like him.

Through my work and my own personal seeking, I continue to have the chance to encounter brave farmers. They are willing to go against the current of conventional practices and raise crops in ways that minimize harm to God’s earth. These same ways produce excellent, healthy products, from vegetables and meat to grains and flowers. Farmers like these put their livelihoods on the line in their choice of how they will raise food to sell. Their faith and values are profoundly inspiring to me.

This sign at Broadview Farm in Marengo, Illinois, highlights an area planted with sunflowers specifically to feed goldfinches. I’ve been fortunate to meet many farmers who keep the life of God’s world in mind as they plan the uses of their farm.

Over the past years I’ve had the opportunity work with and help a number of public conservation and forest preserve districts work to improve the sustainability of their farmland management systems. These are public organizations with thousands of acres of farmland which have largely been farmed with a chemical-reliant, production-first approach for decades. I have been blessed to work with staff who care deeply about the land and water under their management.They are creatively advocating within their institutions to move more earth-friendly farming requirements forward. They do this even when others in their institutions don’t get it. I admire them.

During a 2022 field walk at a farm field owned and managed by the Forest Preserve District of Will County, participants were shown a prairie strip planted perpendicular to the downward slope of the field. The strip provides habitat for wildlife while slowing erosion from farmed land. 

4. Food Forest and Land Stewardship Near Galesburg: This summer, my wife, eldest son, and I visited friends who had purchased some beautiful land near Galesburg. Just one of the ways they are tending this land is by replacing conventional corn and bean fields with trees that will produce nuts and fruit. They have a long-term vision and love the land very much. Their willingness to try new things, work hard, and build community inspired us greatly.

Our friend Craig showing us one of the chestnuts he and his wife planted on their land near Galesburg.

5. Positive News in the World: In the midst of many negative forces, we cannot forget that Creation, when given the chance, can begin to rebound. Check out this story about the response of nature in New York Harbor, which used to be a cesspool of pollutants. A key point to remember is that in a world in which we are all tempted to sin, good regulations and laws are needed.

We can also forget that people can push for decency and goodness in their society….and succeed. Check out news of this ruling in Maryland that preserves the right of homeowners to garden and landscape in ways that enable nature to thrive. A brave couple made that happen.

6. Birds of the Garden: We had three surprise avian visitors this year to our largely naturally landscaped yard. Two were birds – a nuthatch and red-bellied woodpecker – that came to the bird feeder and thrive around trees. After 19 years, our yard has three bur oaks, a pin oak, and two hackberries that are all of decent size. I particularly appreciated the nuthatch. It is able to descend headfirst down the trunk of a tree with perky little movements. Its  upturned beak is perfectly suited for seeking out food in the nooks and crannies of tree bark. It also, as this excellent article explains, stockpiles seeds in the bark of trees for accessing later.

The third bird was a red-tailed hawk. It somehow caught a rabbit, despite the restricted air space of our small property. The hawk consumed the rabbit on top of a rain barrel with little concern for the sensibilities of the people looking at it from their dining room.

This red-tailed hawk has the remains of a rabbit on the top of the rain barrel in our yard during a rain day. (Our son Owen snuck up close to get this picture)

7. Thought-Provoking Books: There were two books I read in 2022 about Christianity and Creation that were so thought-provoking that I read them twice – Victoria Loorz’s Church of the Wild and Norman Wirzba’s This Sacred Life. I’m grateful to the authors, their editors, and their publishers for producing these books.

This book was insightful and moving. it also used language far from traditional conceptions of Christianity. I

8. Inspired Words: I continue to find inspiration (and challenge) in reading the Bible. Thanks to my interview with John Kempf, I now have Job 12: 7-10 indelibly etched into my consciousness. How much better would we be faithful servants of God if we actually did ask the beasts, the birds, the bushes, and the fishes of the sea and were willing to listen and learn from them? What if we remembered that our lives and the livings of all living things are in the hand of the God? We are created kin.

What are you grateful for in 2022?

Write those things down. Talk about them. Feed your heart and soul with them. Share them if you would.

Many blessings to you all.

permalink