Let me sing for my beloved
my love-song
concerning his vineyard:
My beloved had a vineyard
on a very fertile hill.
He dug it and cleared it of stones,
and planted it with choice vines;
he built a watchtower
in the midst of it,
and hewed out a wine vat in it...
-Isaiah 5:1-2a
In the name of God, Source of all Being, eternal Word, and holy Spirit: Amen.
Among the vineyards of Kenwood, California, there are mustard flowers growing in the spring, even ahead of the bud-break on the vines. Ancient watchtowers, made of wood, clamber over head. And in the fall the wine presses are at work. The whole valley richly smells of the crush of grapes. Wine is being made. Hoppers full of blue heavy juiced grapes fill and empty into vats. Trucks bring more. And that is how it is, at this time in a normal year. Not so anymore. Three years ago the valley was threatened by fire, wildfire that came quickly over the ridges from the valley to the east, blown along by dry hot winds through brush, trees, grass, and houses. Vineyards smoked. And the grapes were tainted. That was then, that is now. For the same areas are once again threatened, or consumed, by wildfire. Spreading quickly. Homes are lost. And the grapes are tainted, and once again fall to the ground, unharvested.
This brings home to me the Biblical images of the vineyard, the press, the tower, and the owner and the tenants. We are the tenants. In those stories, we have an image of our common earth, our common task, and hence our common prayer.
We believers, believers in more than the surface of things, know there is more to the story than what we read in the news or hear through the air, know that God is good, creation is valuable, and we have to do something about this. It is our heritage and our stewardship.
You may have noticed the prayer for the original stewards of this land that we say at the beginning of our gatherings. We remember those who came before us and their continuing traditions of care for the earth, and we join them in its care. We are planted in the garden, alongside other creatures, but we have a call to care for the earth. Knowingly, not just instinctively, we can act together for the common good of earth.
Today is the 18th Sunday after Pentecost; it is also the feast day of Saint Francis of Assisi. The birdbath saint. The one who seems to know and care for all creatures, and to talk to them more unselfconsciously than Doctor Doolittle. Among the creatures he cared about and looked after the most were his fellow human beings. His vocation as steward and teacher took early expression in his embrace of a beggar on the road with skin disease. Then young and impetuous and rich, he leapt down from his steed and gave the man a kiss. Breaking the taboos, breaking the rules, making his home then on with the poor. With us.
For we are the poor and we are the wealthy. We live under glorious skies, and transcendent gloom. We have and we have not. We share and we do not. We care and we do not. It is our choice; and it is not.
We can do what is within our power, collectively, as the people of God, and individually as people of prayer, of power through our intentional stewardship of what has been given us.
Or we can be like those guys in Jesus' story.
Pretty much the whole thing had been handed to them. The vineyard they rented had already been developed, fenced and provided with watchtower and winepress. All they had to do was take care of it. And the harvest would come. And when it did, the landlord would be back. Were they ready? No.
Are we?
That is the challenge before us, to be good stewards of what has been provided for us. And to 'bear fruit' as Jesus puts it, the fruit of the kingdom, the fruit that is more than agricultural produce but is the fruit of the spirit. And that means justice. For climate change is racial injustice. And to bend the arc of natural and human history back toward justice is going to take the work of all of us, each of us, in our individual and common work.
This past spring nature was bursting forth in all its glory, and we were shut down. In the middle of a pandemic the natural world continued on its way. And so in a sense the coronavirus was contained within our heads, within human motivations, concerns, and movements. Nature soared on alone.
Until the fires began. In my neighborhood, on the evening of June 5th, as we watched the sunset, we could see lightning striking the hills to the west.
That was the beginning of the Bighorn Fire, which lasted for five weeks, consuming much of the dry brush, grass, trees, and even saguaro in a wide swath of Mount Lemmon to our north. On occasion the winds would change and smoke would drift down to us. At night we could see the flames on the mountain and during the day the aircraft dowsing them.
Nature began to take a turn. Of course this was months after the coronavirus pandemic came to us. By Saint Patrick’s Day everyone had gotten the message: mask, distance, hand-wash, test, trace, treat, repeat. Eventually with permission we could gather outdoors in small numbers at a safe distance.
It was depressing! And unnerving. We have had several smoldering crises on top of each other this year. Climate change, which is a force multiplier for every other catastrophe, layered on top of the wildfire season - which had just really gotten going when the Bighorn Fire ended - as well as the coronavirus pandemic with its public health and economic and political effects.
Even the President now is in isolation as he announced Thursday night just after midnight that he and his wife had tested positive for coronavirus. Fourteen days at home, if all goes well.
[Please pray for the healing of those who are ill, for those who may have been exposed, for the healing of every person now suffering from COVID, and for all those who are mourning the loss of friends and family to the pandemic. Pray for healing of our nation, and for courage and resolve at this fragile and fraught time.
O God of heavenly powers, by the might of your command you drive away from our bodies all sickness and all infirmity: Be present in your goodness with your children, the President and First Lady, and all in the White House or Government who have been infected by this virus, that their weakness may be banished and their strength restored; and that, their health being renewed, they may bless your holy Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.-- For Recovery from Sickness, Book of Common Prayer, p. 458]
So the world is not what it was, or what we thought it would be, and what it will become is in a limbo status of nascency, as ‘ordinary life’ seems suspended for the duration. But what if for now this is ordinary life? It is an extraordinary Ordinary Time in the church - as Ordinary Time is another name for the season after Pentecost. We call this the long green season - dysfunctionally in Tucson as it gets hotter and drier longer over the trending years.
I was home for the one great monsoon storm of this season - wasn’t that an exciting hour? And now we wait: for the summer heat to abate - it will get cooler, as the seasons turn; we wait: for the pandemic precautions and professional efforts to abate the pandemic; and then we wait: for the politicians to wake up and do something about the long term causes and responses to the crises of our time.
All of this, and yet we celebrate. For the works of the Lord are good: in the Canticle we read this morning in response to the first lesson we are reminded - and the cosmic order, the Earth and its creatures, the people of God, are all exhorted to bless the Lord, to praise God and highly exalt him forever.
Why do we do this? For all around us despite our concerns, and some of them very close to home, the work of God and of the people of God who are his hands upon the Earth, continues.
The hungry are fed, the sick are tended, the dead are mourned, the bereft are comforted, the homeless are sheltered, and the unemployed find new dignity in work. All this is going on.
Not at the rate we would want. Very slowly. But if we are part of bending the arc of history toward justice, if we are among those who work and pray for the good things of earth to be cherished, sustained, and shared, then we are moving forward into a future with hope.
For the Lord has assured us, “I have a plan for you, for your good and not for harm, a future with hope.
What do justice and righteousness look like to us? How are we to let justice roll down like waters and righteousness flow like a mighty stream?
We are inheritors of the original inhabitants of the land, caretakers, stewards, and, when the time comes, harvest helpers and celebrators of its providence. Among us are those descended from the earliest days, and those who have come from the four directions, from north, east, south, and west, to this place inhabited for countless millennia and cultivated for now over four thousand years. But change is coming.
Change we have ourselves instigated, and inherited, from the well-meaning and the obtuse, the greedy and the generous, as they in their best lights (and worst) built the city we know today as Tucson.
And in it, even as the power company tears down its coal barn, are the effects being felt of all those generations, over the past 250 years particularly, that have led us to a point near the point of no return.
There is a pretty silly movie called “The River of No Return”. A small group of people shoot the rapids in a cumbersome raft. Not something you want to do twice. And in our case not something you can repeat.
Because the climate is at a tipping point. In 50 years we might not recognize the landscape, for the changes in weather pattern, vegetation, growth or decay of civilization. There are some things we can do, non-exclusive options. Here are three responses we will be discussing at this year's convention (one you can watch if you have internet access).
1 : We can sharply reduce carbon emissions. We can reduce carbon emissions that cause the Greenhouse Effect and combat climate change.
We can employ efficiency and conservation and move toward a low-carbon economy (and yes burning less coal helps).
We can tackle climate change at its source by taking coordinated, aggressive action to reduce the CO2 we put into the atmosphere.
2 : We can prepare and protect our communities, assessing the risks and taking care of the most vulnerable.
We can work together now to secure our communities and strengthen our resilience in the face of climate-related impacts.
3 : We can accelerate innovation, promoting clean energy and creating new technologies.
While climate change represents a serious long-term challenge, it also presents unique opportunities for ingenuity and innovation.
How shall we meet the challenges of a warming planet?
The challenge of climate change is daunting.
But this is the challenge we face, we in our generation, and we are called by God to face it.
Remember then that a loving God is behind us, a God who is sovereign over all Creation, and that in his Spirit we find guidance and strength. As we have been promised, in the words of the prophets, he has a plan for us, a plan for good and not for harm, a future with hope.
To all earth's creatures God has given the broad earth, the springs, the rivers and the forests, giving the air to the birds, and the waters to those who live in water, giving abundantly to all the basic needs of life, not as a private possession, not restricted by law, not divided by boundaries, but as common to all, amply and in rich measure.
- Gregory of Nazianzus c.329-c.389 (quoted in http://edgeofenclosure.org/proper22a.html)
Most high, omnipotent good Lord, grant your people grace to renounce gladly the vanities of this world; that, following the way of blessed Francis, we may for love of you delight in your whole creation with perfectness of joy. O God, you have made us and all living things. You are even more wonderful than what you have made. We thank you for giving us joy in your creation and the creatures with whom we share it. As you take care of us, so also we ask your help that we might take care of what you have entrusted to us. By doing this, we share in your own love for all creation. We ask this in Jesus' name. Amen.
Options and suggestions from
Climate Choices: How Should We Meet the Challenges of a Warming Planet? National Issues Forums Institute. 2016. ISBN: 978-1-943028-03-0 (www.nifi.org)
