the fullness thereof

 1 Corinthians 10:26

For the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof. (KJV)

The earth and all that is in it belong to the Lord. (CEB)

Psalm 24:1-2

The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it,

   the world, and those who live in it;

for he has founded it on the seas,

   and established it on the rivers.

Acts 17:24-25, 28

The God who made the world and everything in it, he who is Lord of heaven and earth. . . gives to all mortals life and breath and all things. . . ‘In him we live and move and have our being’.

During the season of Easter, we celebrate the resurrected Jesus, and ponder what it implies. What it implies, beyond ourselves, and our own hopes for the resurrection, to what it means for each other, our society, our world. We know that all of nature rejoices in the resurrection, but is it only humans that need to be redeemed and restored to the fullness of life promised in creation? 

Certainly nature - the rest of nature - is blessed by our restoration through Christ to fullness of life. The human stain of sin may affect other creatures, and certainly through our actions. How often do we forget to bless the Lord for the natural abundance of our world, even in its crueler manifestations. How often do we turn to the Lord and say thank you for the blessing of the sunset, or a moment’s breeze, or a first gasp of glimpse at the Grand Canyon - yet again as for the first time beyond our comprehension. How often do we forget it is his? Not ours to play with. Not ours even entirely to comprehend. Though we keep on trying. 

As we here in Tucson contemplate the changes to our beloved valley and surrounding mountains, in the shadow of climate change, by necessity and with some form of respect for the earth, we think about what it will mean as we have more people and less water, more houses and less land to put them on, bigger businesses here and failing businesses there, and mining adventures projected both north (Oak Flat) and south (Rosemont). We in our various ways feel the anxiety - or the anticipation - of environmental changes all around us.

Next door to my home is new construction. Custom homes. I’d rather they were further away. But further away is the hope of old construction, renovation by the Catholic Worker, of turning decrepit old motels into affordable housing for the homeless of south Tucson. In either place, with more optimism in the latter than in the former, I’d like to see the earth gently trod upon, not scraped clean, nor exploited. I suppose we all want that, when we can get it. 

But are we willing to pay the cost? It may mean giving up some open land or some easy profit. It may mean sharing the earth with those who scare us, and not just coyotes.  It may mean easy steps of consumer stewardship - food bank, clothes closet, recycling - need supplementing by harder measures. Choosing, on the consumer level, greener products, or at least reusing bottles and bags and other consumables, rather than throwing away yet more plastic. Civic engagement, and collective action, to address the root of the problems we confront.

How then shall we live? Shall we continue to bless the Lord, touch the earth in reverence? Can we invite our neighbors to do the same? Will it mean something dramatic, like standing in front of bulldozers, or simply sharing space - living space - more efficiently and compassionately? 

How in a world embroiled in original - and unoriginal - sin, can we live together? Yes, we can. I believe it is possible in the light of Christ, of truth revealing our folly and failings, and yet his redeeming power, at world in the world. We are part of love’s redeeming work. We are called, chosen - better yet invited - to be among the salt of the earth, not to hide our light under a bushel, but to ourselves be engines of restoration, of renewal, of grace. 

That can happen, as the spirit descends, and God stirs up his mighty power, to work through us and we, alongside his unfathomable actions, work to bring new hope to this old world. Through Christ, in the Spirit - that we await again today with anxious hope - it can happen.

The Rev. Dr. John Leech is a priest associate at St. Matthew’s Episcopal Church in Tucson.

“I’ve been active in environmental stewardship since Boy Scouts & the first Earth Day, and love to help the people of God connect faith to action in their care of creation. Let’s green the church!”

https://azdiocese.org/creation-care/ministry-leaders/

Be engines of restoration, of renewal, of grace

https://tucson.com/lifestyles/faith-and-values/be-engines-of-restoration-of-renewal-of-grace/article_fae090a8-f33f-11ed-aad4-4b1238f2b6e5.html

A version of this meditation was published in the Arizona Daily Star, May 20, 2023.

kingdom come

We live in a country without kingdoms, except in abstraction or in faraway places. In America since 1776 or so we have learned to live without a personal sovereign. The people are sovereign. That is abstract. And we are sorting out what it means.  

This affects us not only as citizens, not just as consumers, but as people of faith. As Christians we hold that there is a king indeed, just one not of this world. And we are sorting out what that means. Since about the year 30.

We have some help with that one. Human beings have been puzzling out their relation with the divine being since time began to pierce our consciousness. 

What does it mean to be under God, and not under an earthly sovereign? How then do we further the coming of a kingdom not like earthly kingdoms? “On earth as it is in heaven” - what does that mean, and how do we play a part in its coming to be?

Bishop Michael Curry refers to the ‘realization of the beloved community’ - this is part of it, and a pressing part of it for Americans. The beloved community as envisioned by thinkers from Josiah Royce to Howard Thurman and by activists from A. J. Must to Martin Luther King, is a community where all belong, together. 

Where the lion lies down with the lamb, so to speak. Where we learn to live with each other in harmony, delighting in our differences and celebrating our commonality. Where intolerance is not tolerated, and love is an active verb.

Specifically right now the Episcopal Church, like so many other church bodies and institutions, is aching through a process of reconciliation, restoration, and perhaps restitution, as it takes upon itself the historical necessity of confronting the past.

Sins of the fathers, yours or mine or not ours at all, are still affecting us. We may say we were not there, we did not come into this church or this society or this world until long after those sins were past, over, long forgiven. 

Or, as it turns out, not so much. 

People are saying, my children will have less freedom than I have had. Not just less money, less of a material future, but less in terms of rights. Freedom, liberty, and justice for all.

We may have had it. Or felt we never did. As individuals or as a part of society that has never felt free.

But now we have that in our face. And how can anyone be free if not all of us are?

It is getting harder to say.

***

Part of how it is hard to imagine kingdom come is that we no longer live surrounded by people who believe it is “in heaven” as we long it to be “on earth”. 

Heaven–what is that? Will it pay the rent–yours? It is possible to live now in a way that takes no account of the presence of God, of the imminence and transcendence of his kingdom. At least for a while.

You can live not as if you have stopped believing but as if you do not know what that is. 

Do we? Do we also, as much as we see ourselves as believers, act as if we do?

Functionally are we in our personal and social lives “living into the kingdom”, that is, living as if Jesus is real, and his kingdom is here at the stretch of our hands?

As it is in heaven - so let it be on earth. 

***

Charles Taylor, A Secular Age. Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press, 2007.

Michael Curry. Remarks during the 80th General Convention of The Episcopal Church. 

See also  https://www.episcopalchurch.org/publicaffairs/episcopal-church-presiding-bishop-michael-currys-comments-to-house-of-bishops-on-july-9/

JRL+

fullness, abundance

"Somewhere, in some activity, or condition, lies a fullness, a richness; that is, in that place (activity or condition), life is fuller, richer, more worth while, more admirable, more what it should be. This is perhaps a place of power: we often experience this as deeply moving, as inspiring. Perhaps this sense of fullness is something we just catch glimpses of from afar off; we have the powerful intuition of what fullness would be, were we to be in that condition, e.g., of peace or wholeness; or able to act on that level, of integrity or generosity or abandonment or self-forgetfulness. But sometimes there will be moments of experienced fullness, of joy and fulfillment, where we feel ourselves there."--Charles Taylor, A Secular Age (Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press, 2007) 9.

http://www.mcgill.ca/philosophy/faculty/taylor

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