“Good Shepherd” Sunday conveniently falls next to “Earth Day” this year. These events remind us that we have been called to be “good shepherds” of the environment. It was our current pope, Francis, who called world attention to our Christian/Catholic identity as caretakers of the land, sea, and sky.
Pope Francis wrote an encyclical on this topic, Laudato Si, and confronted us with what geologists (and others) know. Namely, time on earth is divided into “epochs,” and the last 10,000 years are known as the “Holocene epoch.” Each epoch is identified by some life form that became dominant or emerged at a certain time. For example, dinosaurs preceded mammals, and then primates arose, humans, etc. Epochs last a long time—the Holocene being in its infant stage.
HOWEVER, because humans have made such a gigantic mark on creation over the recent past, some are saying we are already in another epoch—the “Anthropocene” epoch. This refers to the recent past wherein humans (“Anthropos”) have been the cause of massive changes—affecting 80% of the earth. Changes include such things as the Amazon Jungle being chopped down by corporations that are taking its natural resources and making enormous profits for corporate owners. Called “the lungs of the earth,” the Amazon is headed toward extinction—along with its vast vegetation and animal life. All in the name of getting expensive cars, expensive homes, and short-term gratifications of all kinds.
Or the vast area in the Pacific which is an enormous garbage dump floating in the ocean. The size of Texas, it is a massive waste area that not only destroys ocean life but also human life with its poisons fermenting in that body of water.
These sorts of things are the epoch we are creating. We are not being “good shepherds” of the earth.
As you read this, you might be overwhelmed at the immensity of environmental care, and assume you have no role to play at all within this global threat to human life. I used to have a “throw in the towel” attitude in trying to address this subject. I had no expertise in any biological area, or environmental studies realm. But then I was on St. Paul’s “road to Damascus” and was struck by God’s calling me out of my blindness. Here’s my story—which is also your story (in the sense of how God operates in our lives).
A turtle was crossing the road and I stopped to save him from being hit. I learned he was a “box turtle” and that his kind used to be seen everywhere in West Virginia. Now they were seldom seen. I put him in my garden on campus, and word spread that a turtle was there. A few people brought me their box turtle since they thought these wonderful creatures would like to be among their own. A light went on in my head (a “grace” from heaven?) and I set up a “box turtle sanctuary” wherein I would breed and release these creatures into the wild.
My challenge was that I knew absolutely nothing about breeding turtles. This required studying material about them. And so it came to pass that I was able to breed box turtles and care for them as best I could. When I had to leave West Virginia, I saw to it that the box turtles could continue their colony at West Liberty University—which had started a zoo program. Its director said they could use the turtles for their student programs.
While developing this turtle project, I noticed other areas of campus life that needed special care of its plant and animal residents. I conceived a project that would enlist students and campus employees to be caretakers of the environment. While trying to get this going, the University of Notre Dame sent out a “call for papers” on the topic of “The Catholic University and the environment.” 2 papers would be selected and presented by their authors at a national conference on the environment.
I—with no training in biology—put together a paper, submitted it, and was one of the two people invited to present our material.
My point is NOT that I am a great man with great ideas and great knowledge and vision. Not at all. My point is the exact opposite. That is, by the happenstance of saving a box turtle, my interest in saving him and his people—moved me to expand my concern for campus life as a whole. In short, God graced me with a stirring of interest, a sense of concern for creatures, and, bit by bit, many related environmental issues stirred me into action.
In having this experience, I was reminded of someone known as “The Star Thrower.”
There was a man who used to go to the ocean and walk on the beach. One day along the shore, he saw a human figure moving like a dancer.
As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.
He came closer still and called out “Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?” The young man looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean.” The older man asked “Why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?”
The young man replied, “The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them in, they’ll die.” The older man said: “But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can’t possibly make a difference!” At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, the young man said, “It made a difference for that one.”
This “star thrower” was like me—doing what he could as one person—facing a massive issue that could see us become Adam and Eve all over again. Unless we become star throwers and unless we befriend turtles, we will force ourselves out of Paradise once again.
Without any education in the field, I presented ideas to a national audience. I was NOT an authority on the environment. I was just a guy whose conscience was touched by God—and an interest was stirred within me to do SOMETHING. So I saved a turtle—and the rest is history.
This is how grace works in your life, too. God awakens you to some element of creation or some human drama or some concern—and SOMETHING stirs (if only a little). You’re on the road to Damascus—like St. Paul—and God is reaching out to awaken within you a response. You might be 10 years old, or 90 years old. God reaches out to each of us.
God is trying to bring out the best in you by tapping you on the heart.
Communion reflection
A little girl walked to and from school daily.
Though the weather that morning was questionable and clouds were forming, she made her daily trek to the elementary school.
As the afternoon progressed, the winds whipped up, along with thunder
and lightning.
The mother of the little girl felt concerned that her daughter would
be frightened as she walked home from school and she feared that
the electrical storm might harm her child.
Full of concern, the mother quickly got into her car and drove along
the route to her child’s school.
As she did so, she saw her little girl walking along, but at each
flash of lightning, the child would stop, look up, and smile.
Another and another were to follow quickly, and with each flash, the little girl would look up at the streak of light and smile.
When the mother’s car drew up beside the child she lowered the window
and called to her, “What are you doing? Why do you keep stopping?”
The child answered, “I am trying to look pretty. God keeps taking my picture.”
May each of us see God’s presence in whatever storms come out way.