Be careful to seek out all the commandments of the Lord your God, that you may possess this good land, and leave it as an inheritance for your children after you forever (1 Chr. 28:8). If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his immediate family, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever (1 Tim. 5:8 NIV).

In the 1980s, commentators often called the younger generation the “Me Generation” or the “Now Generation.” They saw a disturbing attitude among young people that in essence said, “I want it all, and I want it now.” Considering the greed and materialism the younger generation saw in adults, the cumulative effect of thousands of hours of exposure to “consumer” advertising, the loss of interest in history, the disintegration of the institutions of family and marriage, and the decline of religious values, it is understandable that they would be characterized by self-centeredness.

Contrast that with the attribute of altruism—unselfish concern for the welfare of others. When the Christian values of faith in an eternal God, compassion for others, self-sacrifice, and hope for the future disappear from the general culture, there is little chance that altruism will survive. In fact, most people today would likely have difficulty even defining the term altruism. As the combined Scripture passages above indicate, people of the Word have a responsibility to provide for their children and to leave for them an inheritance of faith and the gift of good land—a creation respected and well-kept.

Christian farmer-philosopher Wendell Berry has written a number of books that underscore the broad meaning of community—community that includes our ancestors, our current family members and neighbors, our animals and land, and our descendants. These words from the book What Are People For? have caused me to consider more carefully the legacy I am leaving:

We do not need to devise a “world of the future”; if we take care of the world of the present, the future will have received full justice from us. A good future is implicit in the soils, forests, grasslands, marshes, deserts, mountains, rivers, lakes, and oceans that we have now; the only valid “futurology” available to us is to take care of those things. We have no need to contrive and dabble at “the future of the human race”; we have the same pressing need that we have always had—to love, care for, and teach our children (p.188).

Berry elaborates on this last line in the book Another Turn Of The Crank:

I know of nothing that so strongly calls into question our ability to care for the world as our present abuses of our own reproductivity. How can we take care of other creatures, all born like ourselves from the world’s miraculous fecundity, if we have forsaken the qualities of culture and character that inform the nurture of children. . . . Whatever the reason, it is a fact that we are now conducting a sort of general warfare against children, who are being aborted or abandoned, abused, drugged, bombed, neglected, poorly raised, poorly fed, poorly taught, and poorly disciplined. Many of them will not only find no worthy work but no work of any kind. All of them will inherit a diminished, diseased, and poisoned world. We will visit upon them not only our sins but our debts. We have set before them thousands of examples—governmental, industrial, and recreational—suggesting that the violent way is the best way. And then we have the hypocrisy to be surprised and troubled when they carry guns and use them (pp.78-79).

This sobers me. As one who believes in Christ, I’d like to think he’s describing only non-Christian people. But I’m afraid I see many of these behaviors and attitudes among those of us who call ourselves followers of Jesus. We’re a long way from being the community that treasures our past, guards our present, and secures our future. While we look for the any-moment return of Christ, we cannot use this expectation to excuse ourselves from the responsibility to leave God’s gift of creation to our children and their children well-kept and as undiminished as possible in its capacity to provide for them what it has provided for us.

[Photos: Lancaster County, Pennsylvania]

Our Relation To Others Through Creation (Part 2)

Be careful to seek out all the commandments of the Lord your God, that you may possess this good land, and leave it as an inheritance for your children after you forever (1 Chr. 28:8). If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his immediate family, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever (1 Tim. 5:8 NIV).

In the 1980s, commentators often called the younger generation the “Me Generation” or the “Now Generation.” They saw a disturbing attitude among young people that in essence said, “I want it all, and I want it now.”

Considering the greed and materialism the younger generation saw in adults, the cumulative effect of thousands of hours of exposure to “consumer” advertising, the loss of interest in history, the disintegration of the institutions of family and marriage, and the decline of religious values, it is understandable that they would be characterized by self-centeredness.

Contrast that with the attribute of altruism—unselfish concern for the welfare of others. When the Christian values of faith in an eternal God, compassion for others, self-sacrifice, and hope for the future disappear from the general culture, there is little chance that altruism will survive. In fact, most people today would likely have difficulty even defining the term altruism.

As the combined Scripture passages above indicate, people of the Word have a responsibility to provide for their children and to leave for them an inheritance of faith and the gift of good land—a creation respected and well-kept.

Christian farmer-philosopher Wendell Berry has written a number of books that underscore the broad meaning of community—community that includes our ancestors, our current family members and neighbors, our animals and land, and our descendants. These words from the book What Are People For? have caused me to consider more carefully the legacy I am leaving:

We do not need to devise a “world of the future”; if we take care of the world of the present, the future will have received full justice from us. A good future is implicit in the soils, forests, grasslands, marshes, deserts, mountains, rivers, lakes, and oceans that we have now; the only valid “futurology” available to us is to take care of those things. We have no need to contrive and dabble at “the future of the human race”; we have the same pressing need that we have always had—to love, care for, and teach our children (p.188).

Berry elaborates on this last line in the book Another Turn Of The Crank:

I know of nothing that so strongly calls into question our ability to care for the world as our present abuses of our own reproductivity. How can we take care of other creatures, all born like ourselves from the world’s miraculous fecundity, if we have forsaken the qualities of culture and character that inform the nurture of children. . . . Whatever the reason, it is a fact that we are now conducting a sort of general warfare against children, who are being aborted or abandoned, abused, drugged, bombed, neglected, poorly raised, poorly fed, poorly taught, and poorly disciplined. Many of them will not only find no worthy work but no work of any kind. All of them will inherit a diminished, diseased, and poisoned world. We will visit upon them not only our sins but our debts. We have set before them thousands of examples—governmental, industrial, and recreational—suggesting that the violent way is the best way. And then we have the hypocrisy to be surprised and troubled when they carry guns and use them (pp.78-79).

This sobers me. As one who believes in Christ, I’d like to think he’s describing only non-Christian people. But I’m afraid I see many of these behaviors and attitudes among ourselves. We’re a long way from being the community that treasures our past, guards our present, and secures our future.

While we look for the any-moment return of Christ, we cannot use this expectation to excuse ourselves from the responsibility to leave God’s gift of creation to our children and their children well-kept and undiminished in its capacity to provide for them what it has provided for us.

[Landfill photos by Vera Sytch]

How can we celebrate the wonder of God in creation?
By doing everything we can to guard and protect its ability to provide for our children and their children the treasures we have enjoyed and received from it because of our parents’ and their parents’ care and concern.

Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth, burst into jubilant song with music; 5make music to the Lord with the harp, with the harp and the sound of singing, with trumpets and the blast of the ram’s horn– shout for joy before the Lord, the King. Let the sea resound, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it. Let the rivers clap their hands, let the mountains sing together for joy; let them sing before the Lord, for he comes to judge the earth. He will judge the world in righteousness and the peoples with equity (Psalm 98:4-9)

in Pollution And The Death Of Man: The Christian View Of Ecology, Francis Schaeffer recounted that Charles Darwin near the end of his life found that two things had become dull to him: his joy in the arts and his joy in nature. Schaeffer comments on the irony of this great naturalist losing his enthusiasm for the very thing he had made his life’s calling. Then he continues:

We are seeing today . . . the same loss of joy in our total culture as Darwin personally experienced: first of all in the area of the arts, then in the area of nature. The distressing thing about this is that . . . Christians often really have had no better sense about these things than unbelievers. The death of joy in nature is leading to the death of nature itself (p.11).

Schaeffer also tells the story of visiting a Christian school in the 1960s that was located across a ravine from a “hippie community.” Curious, Schaeffer crossed the ravine to learn more about the settlement. He discovered that the commune was clearly a pagan one—even conducting pagan earth rituals common to the New Age Movement today. But he was also struck with how attractive the community was and how carefully they kept the land. The difference between the grounds of the two communities was extreme.

The leader of the pagan commune even commented to Schaeffer about the “ugliness” of the Christian school. Schaeffer tells of his reaction to that comment:

It was then that I realized what the situation this was. When I stood on the Christian ground and looked at the Bohemian people’s place, it was beautiful. They had even gone to the trouble of running their electric cables under the level of the trees so that they couldn’t be seen. Then I stood on the pagan ground and looked at the Christian community and saw ugliness. That is horrible. Here you have a Christianity that is failing to take into account man’s responsibility and proper relationship to nature (p.42).

Schaeffer’s book was not just another commentary on the decline of Christianity; it was a call to apply biblical principles to the world’s growing environmental problems. It was an invitation to rediscover the wonder of God in creation. It was a reminder that we are not as likely to care for one another if we have forgotten the high calling of God to appreciate and care for all that He has made.

It’s not too late to find joy and renewed worship in an awareness that was expressed by George MacDonald more than a hundred years ago:

If it were not for the outside world, we should have no inside world to understand things by. Least of all could we understand God without these millions of sights and sounds and scents and motions weaving their endless harmonies. They come out from His heart to let us know a little of what is in it (What’s Mine’s Mine, p.29).

The capacity of God’s awesome creation to reveal knowledge of himself and His goodness is so obvious that children are almost the first to notice—something Peter Illyn of Restoring Eden discovered a few years ago when he was out in the wilderness with his young son.  As they were walking, the joy of the experience prompted the boy to say, “You know, Dad, it’s easy to believe in God when you’re outdoors, isn’t it?”  A sermon from the lips of a child.

How long has it been since you’ve let your voice join with the voices of the mountains and rivers singing for joy at the promise that our Redeemer and Creator will indeed come and judge the world with both righteousness and equity.

See you outdoors!

Dean

I’ve had a long love affair with the maple tree.  It started with the three sugar maples that stood in front of our house in Hastings, Michigan.  One of them was a perfect climbing tree that had a particular limb arrangement that made it possible for me to settle into a neat seat with a fine backrest—and far enough out from the trunk that I could bob up and down gently with just slight swings of my legs.  The second tree directly in front of the house was not friendly to climbers: lowest branches too high for me to reach, and the one time I did reach one, it tossed me off and laid me out flat on my back.  The third one was just too big and tall to do much but offer us abundant fall leaves to rake into piles for leaf tumbling and, best of all, leaf burning.

I still remember vividly looking down our street and seeing several neighbors, garden rakes in hand, tending their leaf fires along with us and turning the air “foggy” with wonderfully fragrant leaf smoke.  I understand why cities now have ordinances against leaf burning, but I still miss that old fall ritual.  Marge and I will sometimes take a fall drive into the country and deliberately slow down and open the windows whenever we find that bluish leaf smoke wafting through the cool air—just to create some nostalgia.

Besides offering tough limbs for climbing, the maples, of course, offered their spring sap for the making of syrup.  The nearby town of Vermontville (fittingly named) was famous for its spring maple syrup festival.

In the fall, the maples’ treat is also aesthetic: the flaming glory of its leaves.  Neighborhoods canopied over with green all summer long suddenly reveal subtleties as the chlorophyll production is cut off by lessening daylight—actually by the increasing amount of darkness.  When the green drains away, it leaves behind other pigments that were there all along.  Then the trees and shrubs show their defining fall apparel: brown oaks, yellow ashes, yellow-orange-red sassafras, golden Norway maples, golden-brown elms, burgundy sumacs—and the brilliant red sugar maples.  Because of the glucose content of the sugar maple, the absence of the chlorophyll plus sunlight and cool nights interacts with the sugar in the leaves to make them their brilliant red.

It’s at this time of the year especially that the allusions of the “tree psalms” most speak to my heart and soul (After people, trees are the most mentioned living things in the Bible).

Consider this merry message from Psalm 96:

Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice;
Let the sea roar, and all that fills it;
Let the field exult, and everything in it!

Then shall all the trees of the forest sing for joy before the Lord.
(vss. 11-12 ESV)

All over the countryside in Michigan, October is the month when the silent song of the trees is most joyous—when we are reminded in spectacular fashion that all created things in their own nature respond to their Maker, making the outdoors a giant cathedral echoing with praise.  In this cathedral we do not worship the creation; we join with all its creatures in “manifold witness” singing together a doxology of praise to our great Creator for His never-ending faithfulness.

[Click on the photos to enlarge them.]

See you outdoors!

Dean

Fall is the ideal time to teach children about nature—and about nature’s Creator.  While Christian schools can be straight-forward about referencing the Creator, most secular schools cannot.  Home-schoolers, parents, grandparents, and other care givers might want to use the following list of biblical truths as a guide to some good outdoor teaching this fall—maybe starting today! [Photo by Cali2Okie]

The Natural World:

1. It was created by God. (Gen. 1-2; John 1:3; Col. 1:16-17)

2. It is owned by God. (Psa. 24:1; 1 Cor. 10:16, Psa. 104:24)

3. It is loved by God. (Psa 145:17 NIV; Psa. 36:5)

4. It is sustained by God continuously. (Gen. 8:22; Psa. 145:17; Psa. 104, Psa. 36:5-6; Matt. 6:26; Col. 1:17)

5. It was placed under man’s dominion. (Gen. 1:28; Psa. 8:6-8, Heb. 2:8, Psa. 145:13)

6. It was assigned to man for care and servant leadership. (Gen. 2:15)

7. It was altered by sin at the Fall. (Gen. 3:14-19)

8. It was altered again by the Flood. (Gen. 8-9)

9. It provides needs for all people throughout time. (Psa. 104:13-15; Matt 6:25-24; Zech. 10:1)

10. It is considered less valuable than people. (Matt. 6:26)

11. It has been redeemed by Christ. (Rom. 8:18-23; Col. 1:20)

12. It will be restored, reconciled to God, and unified at Christ’s return. (Isa. 11:6-9; Rom. 8:18-23; Col. 1:20; Eph. 1:9-10)

13. It will be assigned its destiny by God, not man. (2 Pet. 3:10; Rev. 21:1)

Implications of these biblical truths:

We do not own the earth and can never ultimately “possess” any part of it. When we buy and sell land, we are only assigning temporary care to “owners” who are expected by God to use it carefully, frugally, and justly for His glory. We should not deliberately destroy the land’s capacity to do its assigned work: to produce needed elements (fruit, oxygen, water filtration, moisture, etc.) for the health and survival of all that depend upon it. Our task is stewardship, which acknowledges that we are accountable to the Master for the creation’s health and for how we use its fruit (profit).

Since it was made by God, is sustained by God, is loved by God, and will be restored by God, we must use it with reverent care and respect. We must always be thankful for our parents and their parents for their care of it and be careful to hand it on to our children and their children as little damaged and diminished as we can.

Our worship is of the Creator, not the creation. But, we must also remember that with the astronomical wonders above we “join with all nature in manifold witness to [God's] great faithfulness, mercy, and love!” Mankind is expected to establish communities and cultures upon the earth that use the land and its produce with as little waste and destruction as possible. All creatures are made by God and must be respected as His creation. When we use the earth’s produce, we do it with gratitude and with the understanding that all His creatures, beginning with—but not limited too—mankind, have a right to occupy and make use of their allotted portion of it. As much as possible we should attempt to treat the earth now as we will be expected to treat it at its restoration in the coming Kingdom.

While “our citizenship is in heaven,” we cannot forget, as T.S. Eliot reminds us, that such citizenship “is our model and type for our citizenship below.” Children need to know that the earth we see now is not like it was at the creation (because of the Fall, the Curse, the Flood, and the ravages of time), and it is not now what it will be at the restoration (the “peaceable kingdom” of shalom). Nonetheless, we also must show them how it still demonstrates to us the power, divinity, beauty, and awesome creative nature of God. For that reason alone, we should tend faithfully to our stewardship tasks.

Motivate children to think of their use of the earth as a creative school project that will be graded by the divine Teacher at the end.  And if children offer up their creative work as art to the Heavenly Father, they can know that regardless of how imperfect and simple it is, He will post it on His fridge.

See you outdoors!

Dean

[Acorn photo by Amanda *Bake It Pretty*]

[Discover other issues and ideas related to children and the environment on the "Wonder Kids" page accessed from the top menu bar---or here.]