Seminary Journal 2008 (August) - Virginia Theological Seminary

“The change in vision that we need is like the theological shift
between the old law and the new law, where, instead of trying to
defi ne correct behavior, Christ, the source of living water, tells us that
we must re-form our hearts to be in right relation to our neighbors.”
to humanity against the value of the
existence of a species. Protection of the
species must be ensured, and the costs
to particular human beings for that
protection are irrelevant. The implication
is that the existence of a species is
inherently and infi nitely valuable. No
amount of human benefi t can equal it.
In my experience, everyone
involved with Endangered Species Act
confl icts is stirred spiritually by this
stark assertion of the value of the nonhuman
creation. For years I have been
working on the confl icts over the use
of the waters of the Rio Grande in New
Mexico. The parties to those confl icts
come from every part of the community,
even including the non-human community,
as endangered species are often
the plaintiffs in lawsuits. I worked on
one case that was called The Rio Grande
Silvery Minnow against the United States
of America, which seemed an unequal
contest. At the negotiating table in that
case were cities, farmers, Native American
Pueblos, environmentalists, irrigation
ditches, rafting and fi shing groups,
artists, state and federal governments.
Each of these expressed legal positions
in secular, often monetary terms,
but everyone I knew saw the issues in
spiritual terms also. Who gets the water
is a matter of life and death, so that,
whether approached from a religious
standpoint or a secular one, people
hear the question being asked of what
is the right relation between humanity
and creation.
If, when sitting at that table
together, all we perceive are too many
individuals competing for private
property rights in the shrinking resources
of the world, it is hard to value
each other. In addition to this, when
the needs of the non-human world join
the competition, people must contend
with feeling less valued than a fi sh. All
the painful centuries of striving to follow
as a moral precept the commandment
to love one another, all the work
of hearing hopefully that God cares
more for each of us than for the sparrow—these
things seem threatened or
refuted by the suggestion that there are
too many of us and we must give way
to the needs of animals and trees. Just
as in the time of Copernicus, we feel
pushed out of the place we thought we
had at the center of creation.
We are all at that table today,
feeling uncertainty and pain. So far, the
strategy of environmental law and policy
in this crisis has been to try hard to
hold on to notions of private property,
while making concessions to notions of
commonality only to the extent we absolutely
must. Environmental theology
would do something of the same if it
only condemned environmental damage
as a sin, without offering a different
vision of how to relate to the world. I
believe that a theology of water holds
hope. The very nature of water refutes
the idea that we can divide up the
world into private, static portions, and
each enjoy alone our separate property.
Instead the fl ow between us and all of
creation calls on us to acknowledge,
protect and celebrate that fl ow. The
change in vision that we need is like
the theological shift between the old
law and the new law, where, instead
of trying to defi ne correct behavior,
Christ, the source of living water, tells
us that we must re-form our hearts to
be in right relation to our neighbors.
In the same way, we must abandon
the effort to parse out exactly what our
correct share of the world’s resources
should be. Rather, we should be asking,
in a living way, what our role in the
world’s eco-system should be.
This metaphor of an ecosystem
leads to an answer to that question
that brings together a biological and
spiritual understanding. The phrase
that biologists would use for what I
have called “the role of humanity in
the world’s eco-system” is “biological
niche.” This means that, like other
creatures, we occupy a particular niche
and have a particular function in the
system. The biological niche of humanity,
given by God in Genesis, is that of
the steward and gardener. The present
environmental crisis underscores
the fact that this is our role, as it is up
to us to protect the world. In the role
of steward and gardener we are in
the image of God because we are the
ones who are self-aware, with the gift
of choice. When we choose to fi ll our
role, we actively care for other living
things. The model for our so-called
“dominion” of the earth is Christ, who
exercised His kingship in service. The
50 VIRGINIA SEMINARY JOURNAL AUGUST 2007