I suffered from a case of the blues last night. People
around the world —including treasured Christian colleagues and friends—would be
part of the People’s Climate March. They would walk in solidarity out of care
for our only earthly home.
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| Colleagues in NYC |
What was I doing on the eve of this march? I was preparing
to lead our first children’s choir rehearsal of the season. I had a plan in
place to introduce the choir to songs from all around the world: “Sizohambe
naye (We Will Walk with God)” from South Africa “When the Poor Ones” set to a beautiful Spanish Folk
tune, the African American spiritual, “I Want Jesus to Walk with Me,” and a
canon set to the most important commandment: love God with your heart, mind,
and strength and your neighbor as yourself.
I told the children that the theme for our year together
was “Walking with God.” It wasn’t until
this afternoon that it dawned on me like a big slap on the forehead: Here I was teaching the children that God
walks with all of us, yet I was down
because I couldn’t be marching. Did I not believe that God works through us,
walking with us wherever we are walking or sitting? What about the claim that “We
are one in the Spirit, one in the Lord?” Is not teaching these songs a form of
solidarity?
Perhaps its self-delusion or an exercise to assuage my own
guilt, but today I’m choosing to believe that we do support one another in
prayer, song and worship and that it makes a difference. We didn’t plan it to
coincide with today’s march, but our church’s gathering hymn this morning
included these words:
“Give heed, O saints of God! Creation cries in pain;
stretch forth your hand of healing now, with love the weak
sustain.”
I long for creation’s healing. I long for our eyes to be
opened to the long road ahead and not just the sensationalist headlines that do
nothing but distract from what matters (An insightful blog post from pastor friend Daniel Wolpert points to this shortsightedness).
We humans charged with caring for the earth have a long road ahead of
us. Dangerous theologies that treat the earth as a candy wrapper alongside the
road to heaven only make the work of ecologically-minded Christians more
urgent.
The children’s choir this fall will be singing these
words:
“When the poor ones, who have nothing, still are giving;
when the thirsty pass the cup, water to share;
when the wounded offer others strength and healing:
We see God, here by our side, walking our way.
We see God, here by our side, walking our way."
When I look into the eyes of children and hear them sing, hope abounds. Still I wonder: will the children take this song to heart? Will
they see God at work in the poor and the wounded, even the wounded earth? I don’t
know, but we can begin by singing about it and trust the Spirit’s work.
