Recently I have been desperately missing autumn. As I hear reports of the temperature dropping in Minnesota and I see my friends’ facebook statuses about canning goods from the farmer’s market, my heart is a bit sad. I knew I would feel this way when I realized I would be in the Philippines for the harvest many months ago. But now that I’m in it I’ve been wondering, “why is the harvest and autumn and canning so important to me?”
When I was growing up my family vacations were either to visit my Grandma, who lived near a quiet, calm beach, or to the beautiful North Carolina Appalachian mountains. As I got older, trips to visit Grandma and dig my toes into the familiar sand became a sweet homecoming. My soul felt lighter near the sea. I also craved mountain trips and lamented that I never seemed to fit in enough hiking and camping each year. Even in my conservative Catholic days I always felt as though I was more in touch with God in nature than in Eucharistic adoration.
In college when I studied theology I learned of the principal of Catholic social teaching, "Stewardship of God's Creation." When I interned with the Conference of Catholic Bishops I was impressed by the Bishops’ campaign to impress upon Catholics in the U.S. the need to be stewards of the earth. As I progressed further in my theology classes I began reading eco-feminist theology. I learned how the previous Catholic teaching of dominion over the earth (hearkening back to Adam naming the animals in Genesis) formed part of the thinking of the time that allowed for men to destroy the environment for capital and development. This domination of the environment was distinctly wrapped up in the domination of women as well, since pre-modern ideas regarding femininity were associated with the earth. Some of these eco-feminists argued that stewardship, while a step forward from dominion, was still not an appropriate relationship of humans with the earth. Stewardship still allowed for a relationship in which humans were “over” the earth. Communion with the earth, described as complete equality with the earth, should be the relationship humans strive to have with creation. This sort of relationship is the most morally responsible, these eco-feminist theologians argued. (If you are interested in this theology a good place to start is by reading some works of Rosemary Radford Ruether.)
With this background I began my volunteer year with the Sisters of St. Joseph. Sustainability was one of the core tenets of the St. Joseph Worker program. To practice this principle we learned a myriad of ways to live sustainable lives. Here I learned “if its yellow let it mellow, if its brown flush it down,” I learned what diva cups are, I learned how to freeze and can food, and I tried my hand at making my own cheese. I began biking as much as possible, instead of driving a car, shopping at the co-op and the farmer’s market, and taking care of two gardens come spring. My roommates and I attended Nordic prayer services at Pilgrim Lutheran Church, where we sang, “creation waits with eager longing” as we waited for the snow to thaw and for spring to bloom. I started reading books like Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and Dance of the Dissident Daughter – books that in different ways explored the eco-feminist ideas I had been learning about in the classroom. I also read the phenomenal book about Celtic creation spirituality, Christ of the Celts by J. Philip Newell. Together with Jesus Against Christianity (a book about the historical, radical, nonviolent Jesus) by Jack Nelson-Pallmeyer, I stated then that these two books summarized my faith.
This is all to say that looking back on it I spent that year seriously inculcating my life with a sort of creation, eco-feminist spirituality. I didn’t realize all the “earthiness” I had spent that year doing until I wondered why it was so hard to go this year without canning and welcoming the harvest. When I say a little part of my soul dies with everyday that I don’t work in the garden or can a vegetable, I’m not exaggerating too much. Gardening, canning, biking have all become important rituals in my life that are ways in which I express my appreciation for the earth and my communion with it. Here in the Philippines I bought plants for the house, since I know I can’t live without something green to take care of and I try to live as sustainably as possible – keeping the A/C off when its bearable, buying from the market instead of the grocery store, taking the jeepneys instead of cabs, etc. It was important to me to learn how to live sustainably here as soon as possible, because I realize now, looking back on my life, that these practices are my form of prayer. I may not go to mass every Sunday but I try not to shirk from my responsibility to turn lights off and conserve water. These small actions are how I say “thank you God for making this beautiful earth, I promise to be an integral part of it and respect it.”
The political debate on environmentalism is important and has a place. And it is important for me to be aware of this debate and the points on either side in order to engage the debate as a responsible citizen who doesn’t want to see the planet explode from overheating. And I do turn off lights and conserve water because I think every bit matters, and if every one did these things it would make a big difference. I do eat organic because I want to increase the demand so as to drive down prices to make it more affordable for everyone. I do buy from the local farmer’s market as much as possible instead of the grocery store, because even if it isn’t organic, it is important to weigh the environmental impact of hauling food around the world to stock grocery stores. But I’m also not going to force these practices on any one; I’m not an extremist about it. And I am in no way perfect either – I take long showers sometimes, I enjoy certain processed chocolately foods, and I am sure I waste water since I am a little OCD about washing my clothes well. But what I am is a person whose soul needs to constantly feel in deep communion with the earth by trying my best to infuse my day with expressions of thankfulness for the bounty she provides to sustain life.
My prayer is a switched off light, a dig in the dirt, a turn of bike pedals, and a juicy homegrown cherry tomato.
Thanks for the beautiful thoughts
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