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Is God an Environmentalist?

In Christ and Culture, Rants, Worldview on July 13, 2013 at 9:38 pm

EnvironmentalismAt school, I occasionally I find an empty pop can in the garbage.  This is particularly distressing to me when there is a recycle bin right next to the garbage can.  This leads to an inevitable rant, albeit brief, on the importance of recycling.  Following one such outburst, that moved quickly from beverage containers to SUVs, a student asked, “Why recycle if God is going to destroy  this world and then make ‘all things new?'”

“Because he’s not,” I said.   

In Genesis 1, God declares creation to be “good” six times and on the final day, it’s “very good.”   The created goodness of the world is a consistent theme in the Bible– “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it” (Psalm 24). 

God creates this beautiful and wonderful creation.  He loves it.

 

This is why Satan deliberately sets out to ruin it.

 In Paradise Lost he says,

To do ought good never will be our task,

But ever to do ill our sole delight, [ 160 ]

As being the contrary to his high will

Whom we resist. (159-162)

Because God loves it, Satan delights in its destruction.

So let’s be clear–there is a force in the universe that loves the created world that wants to see it flourish, and another force bent on destroying it.   God is not going to destroy this world–to do that, he’d be joining the other team.

God’s love for creation as declared in the beginning, is consistent with what is presented in the end. 

In Revelation 21 John describes the vision given him by Jesus at the end of time.

I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband.  And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.’ (Revelation 21: 2-3)

The end, fits the beginning.  Because he loves this world, he is pleased to come live in it.  Heaven–God’s very presence–comes down.  He comes down to where we are, to be with us.  In His creation.  This was his intention for the Creation, and it how it will be in the end.  Or, more accurately, at the new beginning.

God says in Revelation 21:5, “Behold, I am making all things new.”  Darrel Johnson points out that God does not say, “Behold, I am making all new things,” but “all things new.”  God is not destroying the earth, but restoring it.

So what do we do in the mean time?  The task of humanity is to live in accordance with his purposes.  Notice again, Revelation 21:5.  It doesn’t say, I will make all things new.  It’s “I am making all things new.” 

How is God making all things new?  It began with Christ’s death and resurrection–he died, not just to redeem people, but all of creation.  Colosians 1:19-20 says, “For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.”

Christ’s work continues through his people, the church, until he comes again.

There are two forces at work in the world–one that would destroy the creation and one that would see it flourish.

So, those who wish to live and work in accordance with God’s purposes will start by taking recycling very seriously. 

And that will be just the beginning. 

Coffee and Conscience — Part 1

In Christ and Culture on October 15, 2012 at 11:31 pm

On the eighth day God created coffee — Zazzle Mug from zazzle.com

At the farm, coffee time never varied.  I’m not sure why I recall coffee time at Grandma’s with such reverence and affection.  Perhaps it was grace—inclusion in a ritual when I was too young to partake in the eponymous element. To a child, it wasn’t about the coffee, but the cookies—the same cookies: home-made chocolate chip and store bought chocolate-covered, marshmallow-puffs with a drip of raspberry filling.  I occasionally used to buy a box of those marshmallow cookies out of nostalgia, but they were never as good as their memory, and not nearly as good as the homemade ones.

Coffee time was a regular and holy mystery—the conversation was as incomprehensible to me as the black stuff the adults drank.  In something as quotidian as coffee time, I experienced what priest, writer and gourmet chef, Robert Capon, calls the “unutterable weight of glory.”  But at the time, I had no idea; I’m sure that I had to be prompted to say thank you before I raced outside.

*

The coffee plant is particular as to where it grows, for it desires heat.  It climbs up the equatorial mountains where it hides in the oppressive humidity of the world’s jungles.  And it likes rain—lots of rain.  The earth and air flavour the fruit.  In Africa, the seeds absorb essences drawn from rich black soil, evening fog and very hot days.  In Central and South America, mountain vistas and heavy humidity suffuse the beans with both light and depth.  Coffee grown on the slopes of the Pacific Islands is imbued with the vastness and verve of the surrounding ocean.

Because of its capacity to absorb its environment, coffee offers some of the most complex and varied flavours of anything that we put into our mouth.  Furthermore, all the flavour of a particular bean is present at the time of its picking.  Nothing will be added, but without due care, much can be lost.

*

I sit watching an episode of How It’s Made. First, the frenetic assembling of pencils; then an exposition on the processing of scrap metal, and then comes coffee.  The narrator explains that coffee “boasts over eight hundred flavor characteristics; at least double those of wine.”  The human senses can discern all these complex flavours.  And poetic language is necessary to even come close to celebrate them.   Kenneth Davids’ is a coffee aficionado and reviewer.  His reviews approach poetry.    With a few omission and some restructuring, a poem is created:

Kenya Karatu AA” by Caféa Rotisserie

 

Aroma

Sonorously bright

Lush yet delicate:

Flowers, orange, nut, fresh-cut fir

 

Flavor

A rounding hint of milk chocolate.

Silkily smooth.

 

Finish

Sweet but crisp,

Orangy chocolate.

*

The flavor is extracted from the extraordinary beans by various methods.  The most common in coffee houses is the espresso, brewed by forcing a small amount of nearly boiling water under pressure through finely ground coffee.  Then the human creator fulfills his mandate to innovate.

The variations to the making of an espresso include lungo with more water and ristretto with less.  You can add water to make an Americano, steamed milk to make a Latte, lots of steamed milk to make a Macchiato and equal parts espresso, steamed milk, and frothed milk to make a Cappuccino.  Each of these has vintages has variations, as well.  For instance, a Cappuccino can be dry with less frothed milk and no steamed milk at all.  It can be Mocha with chocolate syrup and Breva if made with half-and-half, instead of whole milk.  All of the above can be upgraded to a Double: two espresso shots rather than one.  Further, a plethora of syrups, flavorings, and spices can be added.  Chocolate is the most common, either sprinkled on top or added in syrup form. Other favorites include cinnamon, nutmeg, and Italian syrups and nearly any alcoholic beverage.  And it need not be hot, had warmed or even iced.

*

Starbucks has over 170,000 beverage possibilities.

I was standing in line to order an Americano.  In front of me was a young man casually dressed only in black and white.  His track pants were black with white stripes, and his jacket was black with white sleeves.  His backpack was black with white detailing, and his shoes, white with black detailing; bracelet, black; ear buds, white.

From his position in the line of customers, he was writing on the side of a Starbucks’ cup (white) with a pen (black).  With the flourish of a calligrapher, he wrote something in every one of the instruction boxes, except the one labeled “Decaf.” He passed the inscribed cup to the barista.

“They let you do that?” I asked.

“I work here,” he explained.

“It looks complicated.”

“May I help you,” the barista asked me?

“16 ounce Americano, please.”

“Would you like room for cream?”

“No thanks.”

I took my coffee and the guy in black and white was still waiting for his.  Such extravagance takes time.  I asked him if he could write his recipe on my cup.   He did so gladly.

Shots:              1 Aff, 1 Ris

Syrup:              4pV

Milk:                S

Custom:           140° x C Driz

Drink:              CM

And then with the pride of the artist, he signed his masterpiece, “Scott Hancock.”

“Did you invent this drink?” I asked.  He nodded proudly.

Three days later, I tried Scott’s masterpiece.  How could I not?

I will stick to my simple Americano.

It was good, but I will likely not order it again.  It came up on my bill as a Macchiato.  I like my coffee very hot but this one was served at only 140°.  It was also too sweet for a guy that drinks his coffee black.  I don’t ever take milk, let alone soy milk.  I think it was the soy that offered an aftertaste that I didn’t like.  I momentarily tasted the espresso, but it was distant and quickly subdued by the milk.

*

Cultural expressions of coffee add to the variety—Madras filter coffee from southern India is very different from the Kopi Tubruk from Indonesia.  Oliang from Thailand is distinct from Turkish and Vietnamese style coffees—all exceptional, and all brewed and drank with unique cultural differences.

The celebration of friendship and family is central to the Ethiopian coffee ceremony.  In a process that takes hours, the coffee is always prepared and served by a woman or a girl wearing a traditional white dress.  After she has arranged a tray holding the cups, she will roast the carefully cleaned coffee beans over an open fire.  A nutty aroma fills the room as the stirred beans rattle against the metal of the long handled pan.  The heat coaxes out the oils making the beans shiny and black.  When they start to crackle, the woman removes the pan from the heat and walks around the room so the smell of freshly roasted coffee fills the air.

Using a wooden pestle and mortar, she grinds the roasted coffee and then stirs it into a black earthen coffee pot.  The pot is left for a moment while the grinds settle to the bottom and the flavours permeate the hot water.  The pouring of the coffee requires grace and skill.  To further diffuse the aroma through the room, the woman pours the coffee in one continuous stream from over a foot above the small handleless cups.  It falls to the youngest child to announce that the coffee is ready and to serve it, starting with the eldest member of those who will partake.  The coffee is drunk with plenty of sugar. The woman is lavishly praised for her efforts in producing the coffee.

Three rounds of coffee are served with stories and conversation.  The last cup is called, “Baraka”—the cup of blessing.  It is possible to come as a visitor to a simple peasant hut in Ethiopia and be treated to this Yirgacheffe, which is, according to coffee experts, one of the best coffees in the world.

*

 “HEY! Coffee time”

Don, our boss, almost always barked, “Hey!” before he said anything. I think he liked to see us jump.  If we were shoveling, he’d yell, “Hey!” and sternly and impatiently show us the most efficient way to move dirt.  And if you called it dirt, he’d snap, “Hey! Dirt is what’s under your fingernails; this is soil.”  Until I got used to his manner, and I never really did, I always had the sense that I did nothing right.

He knew we were on edge and he seemed to derive some pleasure from it.  Twice a day he’d come up behind us and bark, “Hey!” followed by a much softer, “Coffee time.”

When we sat down for coffee, everything changed.  He told us stories about the Vietnam War and laughed at our stories about college life.  The breaks were supposed to be just fifteen minutes long, but if the mood struck, he’d sit there much longer.  We never checked our watches; we just enjoyed the company of those who worked hard together and enjoyed the grace of a few minutes of holding a coffee instead of a shovel.

In Defense of Fairy Tales (2) – Creation

In Uncategorized on August 20, 2012 at 6:12 am

We get a lot of rain in south western BC so we often talk about it, often disparagingly.  We fail to see magic anymore—even when it drops out of the sky and hits us on the head.

We think about rain in the same way we have been trained to think about many things.  In science texts, rain is presented as a result of a series of intractable processes.  First, water in the ocean is obligated by impersonal forces to do something we have called evaporation; as it moves inland and cools at higher altitudes the water vapor begins a process that human beings have named condensation; eventually, gravity takes over and the water falls in some form of what we have labeled precipitation.  Why does water do these things?  It does it can’t do anything else.  We expect it.  It’s the law—Natural Law.  We have named all these mindless processes, the water cycle.

Think about it.

What is happening here?

WATER IS FALLING OUT OF THE SKY!!!

This is incredible! Water is falling out of the sky!

What kind of a world is this, where water falls out of the sky?!

It didn’t have to be this way, but it is!

What is reality?  Does nature tediously adhere to natural law, or is it “a wild and startling place, which might have been quite different, but which is quite delightful” (Chesterton).

Which is more consistent with the Biblical teaching of Creation?

The Bible begins by telling us that God made everything and it was good (Genesis 1:31).

. . . crossing the line between fantasy and reality

This means there is no such a thing as an ordinary thing, and Chesterton claims that fairy tales help us to remember this truth.  In the fairy tale we encounter a golden apple and this brings back to us the “forgotten moment,” and the ensuing thrill, when we first discovered that they were green.  We come to see the creation, not as slavishly following a deterministic law, but joyfully producing green apples again and again, like a child who wants to be thrown into the air one more time.  “Again . . . again . . . again.”  It is not law, but “magic” that we find in creation.  There is no wonder associated with law, but there always is with magic.  It is because they ought to invoke our sense of wonder, that Chesterton can claim “[a] tree grows fruit because it is a magic tree.  Water flows downhill because it is bewitched.”

Tolkien refers to this characteristic of fairy tales as recovery.  It is the quality that “allows us to stay ‘childish,’ in the sense of viewing the world in the same way a child does—as if everything is brand new.”  We recover the sense of wonder that creation affords, “not seeing things as they are, but seeing things as we are (or were) meant to see them” (Northrup).  This recovered sense of wonder is not “a mere fancy derived from fairy tales; on the contrary, all the fire of the fairy tales is derived from this” (Chesterton).  According to Chesterton, the natural response—the child-like response—to the creation is one of wonder.  And the immediate effect of wonder is praise.  To be filled with wonder at the world around us and to respond with praise to the creator is to be brought back to reality, not drawn from it.

In the fairy tale “Cinderella,” through the presentation of the extraordinary, we experience the ordinary as brand new.  When Cinderella’s fairy godmother transforms an ordinary pumpkin into “a beautiful coach, gilded all over” and six ordinary mice into six “dappled mouse-grey horses” (Perrault), we see anew the commonplace pumpkin and mouse as exceptional. Because they were turned into something different we can, with Chesterton, marvel at their original state.  Which is a greater marvel, a carriage or a pumpkin?  Because it could have been otherwise, we get a sense that in the orangeness and roundness of a pumpkin, “something has been done” (Chesterton) by a creator.  Mice and pumpkins are not as they are simply because they must be; Chesterton proclaims it magic and then stands in awe of these ordinary creatures.

How much more enriching is life when we live in a world where there are no ordinary things?

******************

So fairy tales help us to see the reality of the wonder of Creation. But there is another Creational truth that fairy tales help us to see—the reality of limits.

Cinderella’s fairy godmother “bade her not to stay [at the ball] beyond midnight” (Perrault)—this was her incomprehensible condition of joy. Happiness depends on not doing something: if Cinderella stays beyond midnight, she will be humiliated and lose her happy-ever-after ending. This is a perspective that the fairy tale provides and it is consistent with the conditions found in Eden. Accept the curfew and happiness will endure, leave after midnight and suffer humiliation; do not eat of the Tree of Knowledge and enjoy paradise forever, eat of it and “you will surely die.”

Man was placed in God’s good creation to enjoy and prosper, but there was a condition—that he “must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” for to eat of this tree would bring death (Gen. 2:17). This prohibition seems arbitrary and irrational, but upon it hinges life itself.

Chesterton recognizes this biblical reality in fairy tales where we find “incomprehensible happiness rests upon an incomprehensible condition.”  He calls it the “Doctrine of Conditional Joy.” Chesterton metaphorically compares this condition to glass, a prevalent substance in fairyland.  “Strike a glass, and it will not endure in an instant; simply do not strike it, and it will endure a thousand years.”   The fairy instruction is, “You may live in a palace of gold and sapphire, if you do not say the word ‘cow.’”

Although these fairy restrictions may seem arbitrary and irrational, they are not unfair. When held up against what we can do, we should not be resentful of the little thing we cannot do.  Chesterton’s illustration of this point is monogamy.  Many chafe under the Christian restrictions of sex only within marriage, all the while failing to see, and be grateful for, the great gift that sex is [Read “KD, Bud and Sex”]. Chesterton thought that “existence was itself so very eccentric a legacy that [he] could not complain of not understanding the limitations of the vision when [he] did not understand the vision they limited.” The thrill of what we can do outshines that which we cannot do and our happiness depends on obeying the restriction. This aspect of fairy tales is consistent with reality as presented in scripture.

Fairy tales present the biblical truth that our continued happiness rests on a condition of obedience.

Read In Defense of Fairy Tales (1) – Introduction
Read In Defense of Fairy Tales (3)Fall
Read In Defense of Fairy Tales (4) – Redemption

Resources:
Chesterton, G. K. Orthodoxy. New York: Doubleday, 1990.
Northrup, Clyde B. “The Qualities of a Tolkienian Fairy-Story.” Modern Fiction Studies. 50.4 (2004) : 814-837.
Tolkien, J. R. R. “The Monsters and the Critics.” The Monsters and the Critics, and Other Essays. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1984.