Sting - 57th & 9th: An Ecotheological Review

The Rev. Dr. Leah D. Schade

Sting and ecotheology?  Seriously?  What possible connection could there be between the famous pop music artist and the study of ecology and religion?  Read on!

My husband Jim Schade (himself a professional musician, a seasoned jazz drummer) gifted me with Sting’s new album 57^th & 9^th for Christmas, knowing that I have been a huge fan since the Police in the 80s, and throughout his solo career in the subsequent decades.  I had been looking forward to hearing what one of my favorite singer-songwriters had produced after a three-year hiatus from recording.  The album met and exceeded my expectations. Titled after the street corner he crossed daily on the way to the recording studio, the album not only exemplifies the trademark “Sting sound” of intellectual pop his fans enjoy, the songs plumb the depths of human experience and provide a poignant soundtrack for our time.

The multivalent meanings of Sting’s poetic lyrics are one of the things that keep me hooked on his music, and this album does not disappoint.  His songs are at once self-reflective, philosophical and poignant.  They invite multiple listenings to ponder and puzzle out the hidden treasures of the words nestled between polyrhythmic drum beats and richly-layered chords. 

The first two songs, “I Can’t Stop Thinking About You,” and “50,000” were each smartly arranged with a driving rock beat.  “Down, Down, Down” and “If You Can’t Love Me” are both quintessential Sting lovelorn melancholia, reminiscent of “King of Pain” and “When We Dance.”  Sting does heartbreak well – not quite wallowing, but deeply engaged in the emotional pain of loss.

Longing is another theme that drifts through this album.  “Heading South on the Great North Road” follows the yearning of wanderlust that seeks but never quite finds fulfillment; while the “The Empty Chair,” written for a documentary about a photojournalist who was murdered in Syria, is saturated with longing for the seat of the dead to be filled with more than just memories.

But it was when the song “One Fine Day” came on and I listened to these words that I realized Sting had entered new territory on this album: 

Apologists say, The weather’s just a cycle we can’t change.

Scientists say, We’ve pushed those cycles way beyond.

Dear leaders, please do something quick,

Time is up, the planet’s sick . . .

I nearly missed my turn while driving as I listened – Sting wrote a song about climate change!  After listening to the song twice, I stopped the CD to read the liner notes about this piece:

Lately I’ve begun to pray that those who regard climate change as a hoax, a hoax perpetuated for the express purpose of hobbling our economies and the profit margins of energy corporations, are correct!  Perhaps it is in fact a deliberate hoax and we can all just carry on with our rapacious and profligate behavior in regards to the finite resources of this planet without a thought for future generations and the depleted world they’re likely to inherit.  I sincerely and passionately hope that the skeptics are right and that the majority of scientists in the related fields of research are full of baloney, and for that . . . perhaps we’ll all be grateful . . . one fine day!

That kind of response is one I’ve given in one form or another to so many people who have argued that climate change either isn’t real, or is not caused by humans.  To hear the bitter irony of his words woven into a song that will be heard by thousands, perhaps million, was a much-needed balm for this weary climate activist’s soul.

It’s no surprise that Sting would write a song about a politically contentious justice issue.  Songs such as “Driven to Tears” (world hunger), “Russians” (the threat of nuclear war), and “Children’s Crusade” (child slavery and drug addiction) are just some examples of his socially-conscious songs.  His social activism is well known, having lent his music and concert appearances for causes such as Live Aid, disaster relief, and numerous human rights issues.

But what makes 57^th & 9^th worthy of an Ecopreacher review is the fact that three of its songs connect the subjects of climate change, religion, and the refugee crisis in Syria in a way that illuminates the intersectionality of these issues.  Following “One Fine Day,” the song “Petrol Head” barrels down like a ZZ-Top roadster, with Sting taking on the persona of a burly truck-driver.  His growling, gravelly voice sings:

               You’ll know me just like I know you,

               Where every gospel word is true.

               I’ll drive this car, I’ll be your guide,

               Just fasten your seat belt, let’s go for a ride.

               I’ll take you someplace that you’ve never been before.

               A place you might have only dreamt about what’s more. . . .

               Now don’t you worry your pretty little petrol head.  

         "Insatiable" - Theodore Bolha and Chris Davis

Where the Patriarchal Western Industrial Complex has taken the world is certainly “someplace we’ve never been before.”  The polluted and overheating planet we now inhabit is a direct result of the kind of arrogant masochism typified in this song.  But more, the song’s lyrics also highlight the complexity that religion brings to the phenomenon of consumerism fueled by oil, coal and gas:

               I speak in tongues, in tongues of fire.

               With sixteen wheels for my desire . . .

              

               Bring me my Bow of burning gold;

               Bring me my Arrows of desire:

               Bring me my Spear: O Clouds unfold!

               Bring me my Chariot of fire!

               Like Moses driving to his promised land,

               Left turn at the burning bush, a stick shift,

               Two stone tablets,

               God’s commandments in my hands.

Sting is a self-avowed agnostic, but he knows his biblical references and religious imagery.  “Tongues of fire” appeared over Jesus’ disciples’ heads on the day of Pentecost (Acts Chapter 2).  A “chariot of fire” is what whisked the prophet Elijah to heaven (2 Kings 2:11-12).  And the burning bush was the site of God’s revelation to Moses to free the Israelites from Egypt (Exodus 3).  All three of these fire images in the Bible symbolize the Sacred, the divine light that is meant to free the oppressed, announce God’s justice, and shine hope into a dark world.

But in “Petrol Head,” the images burn with an unholy fire and the lyrics demonstrate what many Christians have done with this religion.  They have used Christianity to justify a commercialized Manifest Destiny that masquerades as a holy edict while plundering land, water, natural resources, and native peoples.  As I have previously explained, fossil fuels are not God’s gift to humanity – a belief often touted by those wishing to bless extreme energy extraction with faux religious benedictions.

Where the consequences of “Petrol Head” and “One Fine Day” come together on Sting’s album is in the song “Inshallah,” a poignant elegy about the refugees from Syria who are fleeing their war-wracked homeland. 

 The title is an Arabic word meaning “if it is God’s will then it will come to pass,” and brings yet another religious angle to the album.  The song puts us on the boat with a Muslim father and his wife, with his child sleeping on his shoulder as they cross a dangerous sea to flee the war and seek a new life.  The beautifully somber music and Sting’s plaintive voice not only evoke tearful pathos, the song is perhaps one of the most effective artistic devices I’ve encountered to help make this humanitarian crisis real for us.  Reminiscent of his song “They Dance Alone,” about the mothers who danced for their sons and husbands who were “disappeared” by the 1970s Pinochet regime in Chile, “Inshallah” takes us to that place of desperation and fear, this time spraying up like the waves from the dark and threatening sea on which they travel. 

Sting has said of his more politically controversial songs:  "I never tackle political issues head-on. With something like 'They Dance Alone', and the Pinochet regime, the metaphor was of the poor women dancing alone in front of government buildings; you could understand that metaphor whether or not you knew the political issues. I've never set out to write a song that is about, for example, the environment. Songwriting is much more veiled than that. The meaning reveals itself as you go into it. A song should be plastic enough for you to find different meanings there. That's what all art does, all poetry, if you can call it that."

He said those words in an interview with The Times in 2001.  Fifteen years later, he has now written songs about the environment - and in exactly the way he describes.  “One Fine Day,” “Petrol Head” and “Ishallah” reveal their meanings to us not just as individual songs, but in conversation with each other.  And their poetry contains the essence of what it means to be human in the face of inhumanity.  For example, consider this lyric in “Inshallah”:

Sleeping child, on my shoulder,

Those around us, curse the sea.

Anxious mother turning fearful,

Who can blame her, blaming me?

In that last line we feel the piercing unfairness experienced by a man determined to be a protector of his family, yet powerless to do so in the face of forces completely beyond his control.  And with “One Fine Day” and “Petrol Head” already in our ears, we start to realize the ways in which fossil fuels, climate change and the Syrian refugee crisis are all interconnected.  As I explain in a previous post, what most people don’t realize is the role that climate disruption and environmental devastation have played in exacerbating the situations in Syria and other war-torn areas.  

Climate change leads to drought and increased crop damage from insect infestations and blights in some places, which drives farmers away from the land and leads to uprisings.  When this many people are forcibly displaced from their homes – a number higher than it has been at any time since World War II – it creates the conditions for corruption, violence, and authoritarian regimes thrive.  Which means that for those of us who live in countries that have burned the most fossil fuels, polluting the planet and sending the atmosphere into feverish sickness, we share some responsibility for the refugee crisis.

Like most pop music with a social conscious, Stings songs do not offer solutions to the dilemmas they portray.  But that’s not their job.  The bard’s role is to tell the story, to give witness to what is happening, and to set it to music that enchants our ears on its way to our souls.   My hope is that 57^th & 9^th will raise awareness of the interconnected issues of fossil fuels, climate change and the humanitarian crises to a point that listeners will be driven to take action. 

Now if we could just have some powerful songs about climate change written and performed by some high-profile Country music artists . . . When this happens, we’ll know that the issues of climate change, human rights, and the need to care for God’s Creation have finally begun to sink in.  Garth Brooks?  Toby Keith? Miranda Lambert? Keith Urban? Carrie Underwood?  George Strait?  Anyone?  Anyone?

Leah Schade is the author of the book Creation-Crisis Preaching: Ecology, Theology and the Pulpit (Chalice Press, 2015). She is the Assistant Professor of Preaching and Worship at Lexington Theological Seminary in Kentucky, and an ordained minister of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.

An Inauguration of a Different Kind

Inauguration by Water – The Baptism of Jesus

Texts: Isaiah 42:1-9; Psalm 29; Matthew 3:13-17

The Rev. Dr. Leah D. Schade

Assistant Professor of Preaching and Worship

Lexington Theological Seminary, Lexington, KY

Author, Creation-Crisis Preaching: Ecology, Theology and the Pulpit (Chalice Press, 2016)

On this Sunday we celebrate the Baptism of Jesus and the gift of baptism itself. As Jesus emerges from the Jordan River after being immersed by the prophet John, a voice from heaven declares, “This is my Son, the beloved, in whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17, NRSV).  The words echo those heard in Isaiah, who foretold a divinely-appointed servant:  “Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations,” (Isaiah 42:1). 

Jesus chooses to begin his ministry on the banks of the Jordan River seeking baptism from John. Water is central to Jesus’ ministry. He is, in a sense, inaugurated in the water and by the water. As our country prepares for a different kind of inauguration in the coming weeks – one that is marked with ascension to the highest political office in the United States, and, perhaps, the world – it’s worth noting the stark contrast between these two different scenes. 

The presidential inauguration is the epitome of worldly power, with the one assuming the office standing high on a platform on the West Lawn of the U.S. Capitol Building.  Thousands of people will flock to Washington D.C. while the event is televised to millions around the world.  The ceremony bestows the authority of the Executive Branch of the U.S. government on this one individual.  Military, judicial, economic and cultural dominance are just some of the aspects of power enjoyed by the one sworn in at this inauguration.

 

Daniel Bonnell, "The Baptism of Jesus" http://www.bonnellart.com/

In contrast, Jesus’ inauguration to his earthly ministry took place in an out-of-the-way place, a wilderness.  Jesus was not on a high platform, but went down into the water, letting himself be washed by the river.  People were gathered at that place as well, though the numbers were certainly less than a hundred.  John’s message of baptism was about repentance and aligning with God’s purposes of justice, righteousness, ethical integrity, and courage in the face of evil. For Jesus to submit to this baptism meant that he was eschewing the worldly trappings of power and dominance.  The test of this decision to follow God’s way will immediately follow when Jesus faces temptations in the place of wildness and danger.  Such tests require introspection, self-reflection, and a willingness to face down the demons.  Whether you are celebrating or protesting the incoming president, we know that the fate of our nation, and the world, is in the balance as he approaches his own tests of character.  

For Christians, the tests of character that come with being baptized have important ramifications which are illustrated by both the Matthew and Isaiah passages.  It’s worth noting that for Isaiah the call to be God’s servant wasn’t necessarily for one person – it was for the whole nation of Israel. God empowers people to do the work of building the peaceable kingdom; it’s a divine transference of power. This is a commissioning.  God is telling the people: I have given you as a covenant – you are a sign of the covenant. You are blessed in order to be a blessing.

As Christians, can we as a baptized community of faith be a people who do this? Can we be blessed by our baptism to be a blessing to others? And can we be a blessing for the very water with which we were baptized?

The author helping to lead an interfaith water blessing at Shikellamy State Park Marina, convergence of the North and West Branches of the Susquehanna River in central Pennsylvania, 2011.

Just consider the gift of water itself for a minute. Water covers about 70% of the earth’s surface. But of all the water on the earth, potable water for human use is only about .3% of the world’s water, found mainly in groundwater aquifers, rivers, and freshwater lakes.

In North America we take this gift of water for granted. We can enter any house, virtually any building, turn on a faucet, and clean water comes pouring out for us. In countries without access to clean water, people (usually women and girls) walk for hours a day back and forth from a water source, carrying heavy jugs, being careful not to spill a single precious drop. At the same time, industries, fossil fuel extraction, and animal agriculture use obscene amounts of water while chemical run-off, discarded pharmaceuticals, fracking, and fertilizers threaten the health and safety of our streams, rivers, ponds, lakes and oceans.

One of the most ubiquitous symbols of our disrespect for water is, ironically, bottled water. We spend millions of dollars for water bottled in places where the natives don’t have access to the water we’re taking from them. We shell out a dollar for a bottle of water when we could simply put it in a reusable cup or bottle. According to the “Ban the Bottle” website, about 38 billion plastic bottles end up in landfills and incinerators each year.  “Making bottles to meet America’s demand for bottled water uses more than 17 million barrels of oil annually, enough to fuel 1.3 million cars for a year. And that’s not even including the oil used for transportation. The energy we waste using bottled water would be enough to power 190,000 homes.  Last year, the average American used 167 disposable water bottles, but only recycled 38.3,” (https://www.banthebottle.net/bottled-water-facts/).

Perhaps what is most frightening is the potential of future wars over water. With populations exploding and water scarcity increasing, there have already been conflicts over water resources in Bolivia, California, Mozambique, and yes, even the Jordan River.  Between climate disruption leading to drought and decades of gross mismanagement of water resources, regional crises over water will become more frequent and potentially violent. And it’s the poorest and most vulnerable people who will suffer the most.

In the midst of this suffering, Psalm 29 declares: “The voice of the Lord is upon the waters; the God of glory thunders; the Lord is upon the mighty waters.” This voice of God is the same one that called upon the people of Israel to do justice - righteousness - in the Isaiah text. It’s the same voice that commissioned Jesus to his ministry of righteousness. And each of us in our baptisms is called by God’s voice to establish justice and righteousness in the earth. We have important work to do on behalf of the water.

Our baptisms conferred on us the duties and responsibilities that being a servant of God entails. We are to protect those who are vulnerable – like the fragile ecosystems – “bruised reeds,” if you will (Isaiah 42:3). We are to open the eyes of the blind, share the truth about environmental degradation with those ignorant of the ramifications. We are to confront those in power who wantonly abuse water and speak courageous truth in order to establish ecological justice. The coastlands do indeed wait for God’s teaching – they wait for us to learn how to care for them. And we are to teach – on the coastlands, on boats, on mountains, in houses, and anywhere else people are gathered.

The God who is described in verse 5 of the Isaiah text, the God who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and what comes from it – this God entrusts it all to us, and we are commissioned to care for it. Isaiah is clear:  God will not hurt the weak. If we are servants of God, we will not hurt the weak either. We will bring justice to all the earth – even to Earth itself.  The Water Protectors at Standing Rock in North Dakota exemplify the kind of prophetic action some communities are taking to defend the life-giving water that sustains us (a fight which is far from over).

Because when we do justice for Earth, it has a flow-through effect for the entire human community, and particularly for the poor and those living in the most fragile of circumstances. People in rich countries use 10 times more water than those in poor ones.  The connection between poverty and poor environmental conditions can be seen throughout the United States and the world. It is those who have no resources who cannot afford to move, much less fight against industrial pollution, landfills, and toxic dumping sites, often right in their neighborhoods. Two-fifths of the world's people already face serious water shortages, and water-borne diseases fill half its hospital beds.

As one person put it in a BBC online commentary: “If water is life, we must learn to treat it not as a commodity to be sold to the highest bidder or as an entitlement to the privileged, but as an essential component of human existence. We must learn not only the methods and habits of sharing equitably, but also the technologies and values of protecting the environment that makes fresh water available to us.” (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/2943946.stm)

I said earlier that John’s baptism was about repentance and being a servant of God. If we’re going to take that seriously, then each of us, and each of our congregations, needs to change our habits in order to do at least some small part in establishing justice for the Earth.  Perhaps on Inauguration Day, your congregation can undertake a different ceremony – an Affirmation of Baptism where each person recommits themselves to the prophetic ministry of Jesus Christ. 

Maybe your church can look at ways to educate your congregation and community about water conservation and water justice issues. Plan a water clean-up for a local stream, river, or ocean front.  Encourage youth to make a donation to the Walk4Water (http://elca.org/walk4water) campaign that was begun at the 2015 ELCA Youth Gathering.  To date, over $1 million in gifts have created healthier families and stronger economies through projects that provide clean drinking water through spring boxes and boreholes, support for irrigation systems, education about sanitation in rural villages.

Or perhaps you can encourage people to “give up the bottle” (water bottle) for Lent and use water pitchers in their homes, and reusable bottles at work, at school, and on the sports field. It won’t change the world overnight. But it will be one small drop freed from the bottle.  And it may be part of God’s ripple effect that spreads out over all the Earth.  Amen.

Source:

Kirby, Alex, “Why world's taps are running dry” BBC News Online, June 20, 2003; Accessed Dec. 29, 2016.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/2943946.stm

Clergy New Year's Resolutions: Healthy Pastor, Healthy Congregation, Healthier Planet

http://www.paintwalk.com/2014/05/little-planet-earth-and-little-planet.html

This is the season to encourage each other to take steps toward better health, healing and wholeness in mind, body, emotions and relationships.  As pastors, we especially need to take this call seriously.  I'm ordained in the Lutheran church (ELCA) and learned from the benefit service provider for my denomination the serious nature of the overall health of ELCA clergy and what the church is trying to do to change it. (Click on this link if you’d like to learn more:  

https://employerlink.porticobenefits.org/home/CallToLiveWell/FaithBasedWellBeing/WellnessReformation)

Clergy have such high instances of stress, weight problems, hypertension, depression and heart problems that poor health is becoming a characteristic of the profession.

Our health costs as a group are 23% higher than other comparable groups.  And this is reflected in the skyrocketing costs of health care for clergy and congregations.  Clergy work is stressful and our population has a higher incident rate of chronic conditions like diabetes, heart disease, asthma, kidney disease, and heart failure than other professions. (An article by Christian Century further explains the problem of clergy health.)  

The kind of frenetic lifestyles that pastors - and our society - lead also contribute to our planet's "health crisis."  The manufactured need (greed) for excessive and unchecked “growth” leads to unrelenting demands that we place upon ourselves, each other, and the planet to supply us with more and more, without consideration of the consequences.  This leads to depletion on personal, societal and ecological levels and a feedback loop of exponentially increasing pollution, climate change, and ecosystem collapse. In the human body, cells that grow without rest, consume all surrounding resources, and take over the system are called cancer.  So the kind of growth envisioned by our consumerist culture (which has in many ways affected the Church) leads to ill health at best and death at worst.

  

One of the things the ELCA has asked clergy to do is to make lifestyle choices and changes that have tangible positive outcomes.  In response, last year I took a serious look at my habits to see what I could tweak or reshape to better reflect the blessings God wants me to enjoy.

As part of my discernment, I realized that the Commandment that I broke most often is the one about honoring the Sabbath.  Yes, I led worship nearly every Sunday.  But many months I did not take a weekly day of rest.  I also did not exercise as much as necessary.  Add to this my family history of heart disease, stroke and high blood pressure, as well as my own level of stress, and I realized that I could be a risk for the congregation and the church as a whole if I did not take steps to better care for myself.  So last year I committed to doing the following: 

1. Sabbath:  I strove to honor the day of rest once a week.  Usually this was on Fridays.  On these days I engaged in the activities that strengthened my relationships with God, family and friends, and God’s Creation (taking walks in nature alone or with friends, meditating, journaling, playing games with my kids, and having “dates” with my husband, for example).

2. Exercise: I added one additional day of high-energy exercise each week and committed to walking at least 20 minutes each day, or 40 minutes every other day.

3. Nutrition:  I eliminated meat from my diet.  In October 2015 I committed to being a “pescatarian” - not eating meat, but allowing fish and seafood.  This is not only good for my health, but also for our planet’s well-being (see also http://www.cowspiracy.com/facts/). Though I realize going vegan is the ideal, well, one step at a time.  Even if you cut out meat just one day a week (Meatless Mondays, for example), you'll be doing the planet - and your body - a favor.

 4. Accountability:  I committed to being accountable to our Council and the congregation about the steps I needed to take to improve my health.  I included that information in my pastor's report, wrote about it in my column for our newsletter, and designed a Lenten sermon series entitled "Metanoia - Turning Toward Health and Faith." I also asked for their prayerful support and encouragement.

5. Prayer:  I prayed that God would give me the will and the willpower to take care of the temple of my mind, body and emotions that have been entrusted to me, as well as the relationships that are a reflection of the Divine Love that seeks to enfold me in grace.

My hope last year was that I modeled for my congregation what it looks like to take positive steps toward better health for all of us, taking care of the temples of our bodies and our planet which God has entrusted to us. This year, however, I no longer pastor a church.  I'm now a seminary professor of preaching and worship teaching future pastors.  While the the demands of academia are different than ministry, the intensity of the work remains.  And I realize that it's important to model for my students what it means to lead a life shaped by intentions toward health and wholeness.  So I am recommitting to these 5 steps.

But I also know how difficult it is to make good on these intentions as a pastor.  Illnesses and deaths in our congregations happen.  Meetings and events are scheduled.  Reports are due.  The youth retreat is this weekend.  The surprise vermin in the sacristy demands attention.  And Sunday comes EVERY WEEK!  

So what has worked for you?  What are your challenges when trying to live a healthy life as a clergy person?  If you are inspired to take steps toward improving your own health in mind, body, spirit and relationships, I welcome hearing from you.  Post a response about your challenges, insights, and suggestions for others.  Supporting each other on this journey together will help us all live into our calling to take good care of the bodies, minds and spirits God has entrusted to us.

Leah Schade is the author of the book Creation-Crisis Preaching: Ecology, Theology and the Pulpit (Chalice Press, 2015). She is the Assistant Professor of Preaching and Worship at Lexington Theological Seminary in Kentucky, and an ordained minister of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.  

Climate Change and the Modern-day Slaughter of the Innocents

Refusing to be Consoled:

Climate Change and the Modern-day Slaughter of the Innocents

First Sunday of Christmas 2016

The Rev. Dr. Leah D. Schade

Assistant Professor of Preaching and Worship

Lexington Theological Seminary, Lexington, KY

Author, Creation-Crisis Preaching: Ecology, Theology and the Pulpit (Chalice Press, 2016)

Text:  Matthew 2:13-23

"A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, because they are no more."  Matthew 2:18 (NRSV)

This stark scene of children’s bodies lying limp in their mothers’ arms comes crashing into our silent and holy nights of Christmas peace and joy.  Last week was the time for celebration and the sweet smell of a newborn’s skin.  This week is different.  Because here we have the juxtaposition of the state-sanctioned murder of babies and toddlers against the images we cherish of Mary holding her precious baby boy in swaddling clothes.  The jarring contrast is almost too much to bear.  We squirm in our pews and anxiously wait for the reading to be over, and hope that the preacher won’t make us think about these acts of evil perpetrated against the innocent. 

But this story is part of the Christmas saga.  And it contains an awful truth.  As much as we repeat the all-too-familiar adage about Jesus dying for us to save us from our sin, this passage from Matthew confronts us with one very difficult reality that we can’t ignore: 

All those baby boys died because the baby Jesus lived.

 

Jesus escaped with his life.  Those children died. 

Mary cradled her son safely in her arms far away.  Hundreds of other mothers cradled their dead babies in their arms with excruciating cries of grief. 

Most of them probably did not even know why the soldiers descended into their town, burst through their doors and reached into the cradles.  But we know.  A despotic ruler crazed with anger kills all the other children because the one he wanted got away.  A generation of children paid for Jesus’ life with their own.

Some will say that this story about the “Slaughter of the Innocents,” as it’s come to be called, simply can’t be true.  Some scholars say that there is no indication in the historical records of such a genocide taking place.  And that may be the case.  Or it may be that the murder of Jewish babies just wasn’t important enough to make the headlines.  It wouldn’t be the first time that the erasure of hundreds of lives by thugs-in-power simply went unnoticed or ignored. 

As we listen to this Bible story today, we can’t help but hear Rachel’s wailing and loud lamentation rising not just from Bethlehem, but from other places around the world.  We hear those anguished cries piercing our ears and our hearts from the dust and rubble in Aleppo, Syria.  As I scroll through my Facebook page and see the pictures of a city bombed to sandy piles of rubble, all vegetation gone, I come upon a video of a hospital where children who have survived the latest round of bombs are sitting on gurneys.  Their faces are dusty and blood-caked but oddly quiet.  They have no tears. But the adults around them wail in grief.  One teenage boy comes in cradling a baby in his arms.  But the baby does not move, because his tiny body had been smothered in the rubble.  The teenager has already lost his parents and now clings to this little body, crying like Rachel in Ramah.

Do you know why Rachel was crying?  Genesis 35:16-20 relates that Rachel, one of Jacob’s wives, died in childbirth on the road from Bethel to Bethlehem. Her midwife tried to comfort her with the news that she had born a son – the one who would be called Benjamin.  So there is a bittersweet quality to her tears.  

But in Jeremiah 31:15, Rachel becomes a symbol for all of Israel who mourns the loss of their dead after returning from exile and captivity in Babylon:

¹⁵ Thus says the Lord:
A voice is heard in Ramah,
   lamentation and bitter weeping.
Rachel is weeping for her children;
   she refuses to be comforted for her children,
   because they are no more. 

In quoting this passage from Jeremiah, Matthew takes it one step further with the image of Rachel weeping in her grave at Ramah over the horrendous events taking place in Bethlehem.

We want to move on quickly from this story, to go back to our holiday celebrations, playing with our shiny new toys.  But Rachel’s cries do not fade when we close the covers of our Bibles and walk out of the church service.  In Aleppo, in Sudan and Kenya, in Somalia, Columbia, Ukraine, North Korea, and Afghanistan, and so many other countries we see that war, gang violence, poverty, and rulers even worse than Herod are killing children and ravaging families around the world. 

We’d like to think that Rachel’s cries from these places, while heart-rending, are not our fault.  But actually we are partially responsible. What most people don’t realize is the role that climate disruption and environmental devastation have played in exacerbating the situations in Aleppo and other war-torn areas.  Which means that those of us who live in countries that have burned the most fossil fuels share some responsibility for the carnage.

Alex Randall of the Climate and Migration Coalition notes that “Problems arise when patterns of climate-driven migration collide with existing violence.”  Rafael Malpica Padilla, executive director for ELCA Global Mission concurs: “As never seen before, over 62 million persons have been displaced from their home by violence, poverty and economic marginalization . . . But lately we have seen the huge impact climate change is having on people’s lives,” (K. T. Sancken,“Seeing Jesus in the face of the other,” The Lutheran Magazine, November 2016, 15).

https://thinkprogress.org/veterans-day-2030-could-look-like-syria-today-thanks-to-climate-change-1e4afafd523#.vep2f4qaw

Climate change leads to drought and increased crop damage from insect infestations and blights in some places, which drives farmers away from the land and leads to uprisings.  In other places, rising sea levels cause entire towns and island populations to relocate.  When this many people are forcibly displaced from their homes – a number higher than it has been at any time since World War II – it creates the conditions for corruption, violence, and authoritarian regimes thrive.

CREDIT: AP PHOTO/ALEPPO MEDIA CENTER AMC

War, in turn, consumes resources and destroys infrastructure which in turn intensifies the cycle of misery for those trapped in these areas.  Diseases like cholera and other water-borne illnesses hit children’s bodies the hardest.  Rachel’s tears weep for the babies whose bodies are depleted by intestinal illnesses, malnutrition, and disease; for the children whose fragile lives are cut short by war and violence, leaving them limp in their mother’s arms.

How are we to engage this kind of suffering?  How do we avoid the sin of avoidance and the passive evil of complacency on the one hand, without getting overwhelmed with despair on the other? 

Our way through this double-bind is illuminated by a Word from God.  There remains the proclamation of hope and the call to action.  In Jeremiah 31, after acknowledging the unimaginable pain of Rachel, the voice of God says this:

¹⁶ Thus says the Lord:
Keep your voice from weeping,
   and your eyes from tears;
for there is a reward for your work, says the Lord:
   they shall come back from the land of the enemy; 
¹⁷ there is hope for your future, says the Lord:
   your children shall come back to their own country. 

This is what they want, all those who have been displaced – refugees, migrant workers, and those we incorrectly label “illegal” – all of them want to find a home.  They want to live in peace.  They want to raise their children and grow their food and drink clean water and have access to basic health care, education, and governments free of violence and corruption.  They want to have meaningful work with enough money to live comfortably and to pray in their houses of worship.  Isn’t that what you want for yourself, what you want for your own children?  Which means they are not so different than you and me.

And so there stands before us today the choice of how to respond to what we have seen and heard.  If we are to be part of the fulfillment of God’s words of promise to Rachel and all mothers who long for restoration, then we as Christians and as the Church must take seriously what our role is in this world of Rachels who cannot be consoled with mere words.  As we begin a new year, this is an opportune time to think about what we can do both individually and collectively to help those in crisis – a crisis that we are partially, though unwittingly responsible for.  We may not be in a position to prevent the immediate bloodshed, but we can do two things – we can advocate for displaced persons, and we address the long-term causes that are contributing to the conditions of displacement in the first place. 

Jennifer Crist is a friend of mine who is an ELCA mission developer in Harrisburg, Pa., and has done incredible work with children in Guatemala through Tree4Hope for over a decade.  She says, “I really want people and congregations in the U.S. to know that there are so many things that they can do.”  She acknowledges that while there are huge systemic problems, “we as a church have such a great asset in having the ELCA Advocacy office and the AMMPARO strategy.”  AMMPARO (which is a play on the Spanish word amparo which means “refuge”) stands for Accompanying Migrant Minors with Protection, Advocacy, Representation and Opportunities. It is a strategy approved by the 2016 Churchwide Assembly to work with organizations to provide legal assistance, community outreach and family reunification to migrants who are in the U.S.  In 2017, maybe your church can consider doing a study about similar kinds of accompaniment strategies and discern where God may be calling you to give “hope for their future” (Jeremiah 31:17).

Or perhaps your church can organize a teach-in to help people learn about the effects of climate change and the ways in which it contributes to and exacerbates the refugee crises across the globe.  And then work on ways you and your congregation can help address climate change, including communicating with your local elected officials on the need to adapt measures to mitigate climate disruption.

Or your church may decide to partner with organizations to help resettle families in your local area (Lutherans can contact Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Services (LIRS).  For example, Gethesemane Lutheran, the congregation in which I now worship, has been working with other neighboring Lutheran churches to collect household items for refugees who will be settling in the Lexington area.  And a church I once served in Media, Pa., not only collected household items, but also organized volunteers to be translators, help find jobs, and navigate the complexities of becoming U.S. citizens, of settling into their new home.

At the very least, our sermons and Sunday School lessons must discourage the use of disparaging language when talking about the human beings who are fleeing desperate situations in their home countries.  They are not “illegal.”  The religion they practice does not make them “terrorists.”  And the color of their skin does not make their lives any less valuable than those of us with white skin.

As Christians who are celebrating the Nativity, we have to remember that Jesus’ birth came at a price. But it’s obvious from the life he lived and the death he suffered that he did not forget all those babies who lost their lives.  

When the disciples wanted to shoo the children away from Jesus, his rebuke of them was stern because he knew that a generation of children had already been lost: “Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs,” (Matthew 19:14).

When his disciples were arguing about who was the greatest among them, Jesus reached out for a little child as an example of the ones who are the models of greatness in God’s Kingdom (Matthew 19:1-4).  He did not forget those babies who had been murdered.

Even his dying request for the Beloved disciple to care for his mother Mary shows that the cries of Rachel weeping for her children were not far from his mind (John 19:26-27).

Of course we know that despotic rulers are still killing children.  Soldiers are still murdering babies.  Belligerent leaders are still denying climate change and refusing to act to mitigate its effects.  Facebook posts and Twitter feeds are still spewing forth hatred of immigrants, refugees, and desperate people seeking to escape the horrors that have taken over their homelands.

But the Word of God still calls to us.  The Church still stands.  Your congregation has work to do.  And you have a role in the Kingdom of God.  Listening to Rachel’s cries is part of our work.  Taking action on refugee issues and climate issues and immigration issues is an extension of our Christian faith.  As Malpica Padilla reminds us, Matthew 25 is the test of whether or not we will see the face of Jesus in these children in Aleppo, in Sudan, in Guatemala.  “We see Jesus in the face of the other, the vulnerable others, the refugee others, the marginalized others.  At the end of the day, we will be judged not by how much theology we know or how good our doctrine is, but how we have cared for the vulnerable ones,” (Sancken, 19).  Jesus has heard the cries of these children and their mothers.  And Jesus is opening our ears, our eyes, our hearts to hear them, and to respond in faith.  Amen.

Looking for more ideas for preaching that addresses climate change and other environmental justice issues?  Check out http://www.creationcrisispreaching.com/.

Sources:

Sancken, K. T. “Seeing Jesus in the face of the other,” The Lutheran Magazine, November 2016. http://www.livinglutheran.org/2016/11/seeing-jesus-in-the-face-of-the-other/

Randall, Alex, “The role of climate change in the Syria crisis: how the media got it wrong,” New Internationalist, June 10, 2016. https://newint.org/blog/2016/06/10/climate-change-and-the-syria-crisis/, accessed Dec. 23, 2016.

Romm, Joe, "Veterans Day 2030 Could Look Like Syria Today, Thanks To Climate Change," ThinkProgress, Nov. 11, 2015, https://thinkprogress.org/veterans-day-2030-could-look-like-syria-today-thanks-to-climate-change-1e4afafd523#.vep2f4qaw; accessed Dec. 27, 2016