"On Welcoming the Tomato Snatching Chipmunk"
Mark 9:30-37
The noble theme of our Seasons of Creation, "To Hope and Act With Creation," begins with great ideals and possibilities. Hope is how a journey must begin to imagine the possible future. Many climate advocates recognize that doom and despair are not great motivations for change. Doom leads to denial or depression. We need hope to act. But hope is not the most challenging word in the title. The preposition "with" can be more complicated. A decade ago, the theme probably would have said, "To hope and act "for" Creation." The preposition for implies that we have a responsibility to be good stewards of the Earth, but the living plants and animals are passive recipients of our good works. Acting for Creation is not a bad thing. It is undoubtedly better than acting "over" Creation, which was the human default, while we wantonly cut down forests and hunted beavers or whales to near extinction. But acting "for" Creation still sees other life as passive objects of our benevolence, without any relationship.
Using with suggests a partnership and interconnections between humans and the natural world. It implies that Creation is in God; active and working towards healing, restoration, and flourishing. Humans are part of Creation, not separate from it, and called to act in harmony and solidarity with the Earth and its ecosystems. With is a hard word for humans to embrace. As we unpack the Gospel lesson, Jesus struggled to get the disciples to understand his mission as working "with" humanity rather than "over" others or even "for" others. While the disciples argue over who is the greatest, Jesus is trying to get them to understand how to be servants with each other. Indeed, how can humanity be with God and each other, rather than constantly trying to be over each other?
We can relate to their confusion if we walk in the disciple's sandals. This story is the second time Jesus says he will be betrayed into human hands and killed, and after three days, he will rise again. If someone tells me we all must suffer more, I think that is a bad plan. I am not a fan of martyrdom or martyrs. I can find the courage to face suffering, but that doesn't mean I plan to create it. So, what does Jesus mean?
I believe Jesus is predicting the inevitable consequences of speaking truth to power. It doesn't take a vision from God to see that Jesus is on a collision course with political and religious power. He has 13 significant confrontations with religious leaders in Mark's Gospel. Martin Luther King Jr.'s last sermon before his assassination had that same eerie tone that he knew he was not long for this world.
The disciples fear this possibility and don't want to ask Jesus about it. Instead, they are going to argue about who is the greatest. Let me pause the story and quickly relate this to climate change. Scientists have been telling us for 40 years about the consequences of continuing to burn more carbon into the atmosphere. I played the early SimCity computer game when the goal was to save a coastal city from destruction from rising sea levels in 2030. The flooding crisis is becoming apparent as we now close in on the date. People may not believe this is true, but their insurance company begs to differ. They are canceling insurance in flood plains. Like the disciples, we are distracted by our problems, which are very real. We all must put food on the table. We want to feel worthwhile and loved. But if we ignore the big picture, what is happening to the Earth, we will lose what we need to build a hopeful future for our families.
Jesus tries to persuade the disciples of a better way to live the good life. Our true value is in serving others. Jesus uses the Greek word for a lowly servant of the household, diakonia, the root word for the office of Deacon. Deacons don't rule over the church but serve the needs of the church. The early church understood Jesus' message about service when the first office they created in the book of Acts was to appoint Deacons to visit sick people and feed hungry people in the community. Imagine the impact in a hierarchical Roman culture to say, "Our leaders are Deacons, servant leaders.”
What would it mean if we appointed Deacons to serve the needs of Creation? What would Creation Deacons do? They would think about the ecological impact of the mission of the church. For example, when our Trustees changed the outdoor lighting system, they considered the impact of bright lights on migratory birds. Creation Deacons could pay attention to ensure we know the best practices for using our building, land, finances, and other resources in an ecological way that serves all life in Creation.
Two troublesome chipmunks are challenging me to come to terms with working with Creation. After Jeanne and I built our new house on 3 acres of Barter's Island timber, she gave me the book, "Nature's Best Hope: A New Approach to Conservation that Starts in Your Yard" by Douglas Tallamy. The book's basic thesis is that a typical grass yard is a food desert for most birds, pollinators, and wildlife. If people re-dedicated half their grass space to native plants, pollinators, trees, and cover for more wildlife, we would double the square acreage of our national park system and improve our natural environment. I went all-in, and Jeanne I set to work this spring. We planted a clover yard and enjoyed the full blooms in June and the sound of our yard buzzing like a beehive. We dug out rocks to plant native rhododendrons, hydrangeas, and, of course, blueberries. We knew the deer would come after the hasta and hydrangea and learned how to mitigate the possibility.
The deer have taken their nibbles but have mainly expressed appropriate gratitude by grazing on the clover. But two chipmunks have not gotten the memo. We planted four cherry tomato plants, which have produced hundreds of fruits, but to date, I have eaten exactly ZERO! Every time a tomato shows a slight redness, it will have a bite out of it the next morning. Chipmunks do not simply take a tomato and eat it; they will sample five or six with one bite each and leave them to rot. I spotted one of the little scoundrels with a whole green tomato in its mouth and chased it out of the yard. Most distressing is to see all the little branches that once contained ten to twelve tomatoes all picked entirely clean. I have seen them run up the branch and pilfer everything in sight.
People have told me various ways to mitigate the pests. Fences are no help; they can get past anything. Reddit articles say you can spray a solution of hot pepper and water because they don't like the smell and taste on their nasty little feet. Other people trap and move them, but we live in the forest. Some even get a BeeBee gun to shoot them. I have my fantasies. One option is not to plant cherry tomatoes. Our basil, lettuce, chives, and other things were just fine. One kind of large tomato seemed less delectable to them, and we pulled about 20 green tomatoes and ripened them on the porch. I could simply buy all my tomatoes at the farmer's market.
Those solutions are what most rational humans would do, but I confess to irrational antipathy, especially towards the chipmunks. Given all the hatred in the world of other people who don't look, act, and think like us, I have gone through some soul-searching. Here is the microcosm of the challenge of working “with” instead of “over” or “for” nature. Other living things simply don't conform to our plans. They have their agenda, indeed, their own purpose.
I recently did a training on nonjudgemental listening, which emphasized approaching other people with curiosity and compassion. So, I'm trying this out on chipmunks. My curiosity has taught me a few things. First, chipmunks are essential to the ecosystem for dispersing seeds. They bury nuts and fruits all over, and the ones they don't retrieve grow. Chipmunks also help disperse the spores of mycorrhizal fungi, which form symbiotic relationships with plant roots. These fungi are crucial for nutrient exchange between plants and soil, promoting healthy plant growth. Chipmunks are the feet for rooted trees and plants, perhaps the midwives of the forest. I was pleased to learn that chipmunks are also part of the food chain, and foxes, hawks, owls, and weasels eat them. That sounds like a great solution! But it means I must consider a habitat that welcomes and protects foxes, hawks, and owls. We have learned the hard way that by killing all the wolves, we ended up with too many deer.
Life is interconnected. The Seasons of Creation theme encourages us to hope and act with Creation. This call encourages us to notice our relatedness and act in concert with all nature. Our Gospel passage shows us how challenging it can be to serve others, to be a Deacon, a servant leader.
What has this stimulated for you? My might you interact and work with creation in a new way? What do you find most hopeful about this possibility? Most challenging? How does the idea of Creation Deacons land for you?
I correspond with many scientists and engineers who fully grasp the seriousness of the climate situation. Many of them also recognize that there is a spiritual component to our response. However, Genesis 1:28 has driven many of them away from the organized church.
28 God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.”
Regarding the ‘web of life’ ― it’s tricky. I have a moderately large back yard. The other day we spotted some poison ivy. So I hit it with weed killer. Yet I suppose that poison ivy has its place in the overall system.
‘You cannot do just one thing’.
BTW: We have successfully grown cherry tomatoes, to the extent that they have become a weed (like poison ivy).