The Earthkeepers training today was long. Not that I didn’t enjoy it, it was just a long day.
I’ve met so many people doing work in climate justice, environmental advocacy, community development, and education. The work people do is amazing.
Many of them are clergy working in their communities to organize around environmental action. Some are students in seminary, some are people working in other jobs, and others are retirees dedicating this portion of their life to this work.
What I’ve learned from all of them is that this is a struggle. No matter where they are, no matter if things are going great, there seems to be a struggle taking place. A struggle with policy, with time, with apathy, with competing issues, with tradition, and the withs go on.
In my work, I talk about Sabbath a lot. Sabbath is not, NOR WILL IT EVERY BE, a day off. Sabbath is a disruptive time, in which all work and production ceases in order to look back over what God has done and to look ahead and imagine what God will do. In that space comes the potential for imagining, re-imagining, re-membering, and resurrecting aspects of life. This time seems to be that. A time away from our work and life, a time to look at what has happened and what could possibly happen.
I recently heard a rabbi talking on NPR–which sounds like it could be any NPR show at any time–about how there is never really a silver bullet for any of the issues of justice we work on. There is more something like silver buckshot. That is, we are all aiming at the issues, but not all using the same weapon. Our approach may appear scattered but it is effective. Advocacy, education, solidarity, companionship, organizing, spiritual formation, and more.
Being here is more than a cool drink of water, its diving headfirst into a mountain pond. It is shocking. It is revitalizing. It is disruptive. It is necessary.