With every passing day, the U.S. feels more and more like the dystopian nation of Panem (for those of you woefully unaware of classic Y.A. literature, this is the fictional, future version of America featured in The Hunger Games). The rest of the world isn't much better. It feels like we're in the middle of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix—everything's bad, Voldemort's back, and half of us are in denial. It makes you want to pull your hair out and scream "Good Grief!"
Because doesn't it feel like we're grieving an older, kinder version of the world that is no longer our reality? Or—and I'm gonna hold your hand while I say this—were the older versions of our world always this dark, but with more distraction and denial? I don't want to wax poetic about the political state of the world, or the long, long history of injustice. All I really want to say is: if you're feeling the frustration, know that I'm feeling it, too. And God feels it with us.
This week, I am thinking about how corruption has driven the earth's pollution and the looming threat of continued climate change. (Isn't it odd, that in a world so broken, this is just 1 giant problem of many I could have picked?) It's top of mind because I had the privilege of watching the play Kyoto here in London.
What a show! On a purely artistic level, it was fantastic. I'm always more of a musicals girl (I like when there's singing, dancing, and overall dazzle involved), but this play was expertly crafted. Great dialogue. Great pacing. Immersive in a really innovative and fun way. Moving. Powerful.
Essentially, it follows a lawyer in the pockets of Big Oil companies as he attends a series of climate conferences and tries to surreptitiously derail global efforts to go greener. It's as educational as it is entertaining. And most importantly, the villainous main character is humanized in a way that only art can truly accomplish. He made the wrong choice (okay, many wrong choices), but I don’t hate him. I only wish for the future to be better.
I walked out of the show impressed and a little teary. I felt weird about being an American (on the global stage, we are the biggest pollution culprit by far). I felt all the normal guilty feelings about participating in a society that isn't sustainable. And yet I felt hopeful in my conviction that the path forward involves building bridges, having difficult conversations, and extending friendship even to the most unlikely of participants.
I also thought about how Jesus would combat the climate crisis, and had two main takeaways.
We are called to love our enemies, as Jesus exemplified in his lifetime. I'm convinced that he would implore us not to hate any individuals—no singular executive, employee, or frivolous billionaire is entirely responsible for the global climate crisis. Our enemies are much more ephemeral and insidious: greed, callousness, an obsession with financial security, a love of fleeting material pleasures... these ideas are the things we must fight against.
Jesus would not shy away from the world's tragedies, or say that the world is too far gone to save. He will weep with us as we weep, and be with us as we rebuild.
You may be familiar with The Beatitudes. It is a short speech, quoted to Jesus, which discusses how Jesus values the people who are normally dismissed in the regular world.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."Matthew 5:3-10
I find this passage very beautiful. I think it sums up the true spirit of Christianity—the one that most people would probably love to be a part of, if there wasn't so much other baggage involved in contemporary interpretations and spiritual misuse.
But in light of what I'm discussing today, I want to highlight two of the blessings. Firstly: Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. And secondly: Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
When I read these verses, I immediately feel like God understands my heartache for the world. Not only does he understand it; he imbues blessing into the practice of feeling it fully. I've never even been to the ice caps, but I'm not above seeing a picture of a too-warm polar bear and crying over the loss of its melting habitat. Jesus gets that. When forests are excessively torn down without a second thought, or tons of plastic are dumped in the ocean, or rivers drowned in chemical sludge—Jesus mourns with us who are brave enough to care.
It is a Good kind of Grief to feel. They say that big feelings of grief are indicative of the love we felt for something or someone. If that is the case, I want to continue grieving the good things of the world; it is the best way to bestow honor and remember what truly matters. If a new headline comes out tomorrow about our disappearing coral reefs, I will grieve. I will not give in to the temptation of numbness or bitterness that whispers "There was no chance, it would've always happened, the companies don’t care and the world is already ruined beyond repair...". I will mourn what was good to keep my heart alive.
The second blessing talks about our hunger for righteousness being filled. This one is slightly more mysterious to me, because Godly righteousness is different from our imperfect human ideas of righteousness. It doesn't necessarily mean revenge, or an equal, tit for tat type of retaliation. It doesn't mean that things will magically get reversed and go back to exactly the way they were. But I know that I follow a good God, and I am excited to see how my hunger will be filled. Maybe it just means we'll be privy to the glimmers of hope in the longer global story of restoration. I suppose we'll see.
I’m certainly no expert on activism. But, no matter where you fall on the scale of politically/socially involved, I encourage you to take a moment this week to feel Good Grief. It is good to keep our hearts soft and pliable, focused on the things that are truly virtuous in this world. And even if you don’t have time to clean up litter at a beach or compost, I’m sure you have it in you to be kind to the people in your life. True human kindness, humble though it may be, is part of the climate solution. We need to be able to care about each other despite our differences, and practice a sense of genuine teamwork—not competition—as we move toward the future.
And lastly, I’ll leave you with the link of ‘take action’ resources courtesy of the Kyoto play team: https://www.goodchance.org.uk/kyoto/act
Until next Thursday! 😘
Somehow reading this softened the angst that overflows within me when I read or think of the human impact destroying or hurting nature. Yes, to affirming the grief AND holding on to hope...thank you.