It’s
no wonder the first act of murder recorded in the
Hebrew Scriptures ruptures the relationship between
humanity and the Earth. When Cain kills his brother,
it is the Earth’s open mouth that chokes on the blood
and cries out in protest to God. The consequence of
Cain’s violent act is estrangement--not just from
family and God, but also from the Earth. “When you
till the ground,” God says to Cain, “it will no longer
yield to you its strength.”
Today’s
bloodshed equally debilitates our relationship with
the Earth. Resources that could curb climate
change are instead eaten up by the war machine, which
consumes unprecedented amounts of fossil fuels in
the incessant manufacture of weapons. With
destruction as its primary purpose and the Pentagon
as the largest world consumer of oil, war sets the
table for environmental degradation. Bombing campaigns
and active combat scar the land and all that lives
off of it. But they also require the rebuilding of
all that’s been destroyed--a binge of development
that emits yet more carbon into our atmosphere.
And
then there are nuclear weapons. On the island of Runit, the concrete cap covering 85,000 cubic
meters of radioactive
waste is cracking and crumbling. Yet the plutonium
stored underneath this saucer-like dome--the dregs
of 67 nuclear weapons tests in the Marshall
Islands--will remain toxic for
another 24,000 years.
Lemeyo Abon doesn’t have quite so
many years ahead. She was just a child when the atomic
bomb named “Bravo” exploded on the Bikini
atoll. Surprisingly, “Bravo” became the largest nuclear
weapon ever detonated by the U.S. when scientists grossly
underestimated its size, missing an important
fusion reaction. The blast gouged a mile-wide wound
in the reef. While the indigenous people of the Bikini
atoll were evacuated, Lemeyo’s
community--located on Rongelap
atoll less than 100 miles downwind--were not evacuated
for two days. When a mysterious, radioactive ash showered
the island, the children
played in it. Toxic levels seeped into organs
and bones, and Lemeyo’s
father succumbed to a painful death by way of stomach
cancer. She has scars to show for her own battle with
thyroid cancer. Three years after the atomic tests,
the U.S. government resettled Lemeyo
and her fellow islanders, mistakenly telling them
the land was safe. They continued to live close to
the Earth, eating the island’s fruits and fishing
in surrounding waters. But the land was not safe,
and in 1985, after pleas for help to the U.S. government
fell on deaf ears, Greenpeace International conducted
“Operation
Exodus” in which the entire population of the
island was evacuated to safer land. Lemeyo
still lives in exile. The sacred relationship shared
between her indigenous community and their land was
violated in the act of nuclear weapons testing.
The
manufacture, testing, and use of weapons mandated
by our permanent war economy continue to fracture
our relationship with the Earth. Just as the Earth
reacted to Cain’s violence by withholding her strength
and fertility, the Earth’s reaction to the violence
of war today includes the dramatic fluctuations in
climate patterns known as climate change and wrathful
eco-catastrophes like hurricanes. Kurt
Vonnegut famously said, “I think the Earth’s immune
system is trying to get rid of us, as well it should.”
Cain
poignantly laments the empty alienation from the Earth
that renders him a vagrant and a wanderer. He cries,
“My punishment is greater than I can bear!” We too
know that living in estrangement from the Earth is
akin to death. And while our personal lifestyles--particularly
as Westerners--leave a heavy imprint on the Earth,
our insatiable appetite for war contributes far more
to the desecration of God’s created world. We cannot
change our present course without altering structures,
like excessive defense spending, that demand our mass
consumption of fossil fuel.
As
people of faith, we believe God calls us to be in
right relationship with all of creation. The good
news is that the work of peacemaking lightens our
load on the planet. To live in mutual harmony with
the Earth and with one another is a gift that bears
much fruit, and it is something we often celebrate
this time of year as courageous daffodils unfurl their
golden petals and green shoots erupt from the soil.
So this Earth Day let’s enter into a covenant across
denominational, theological, and ideological lines
to call for redirecting
federal budget dollars away from militarism toward
curbing climate change. For the sake of God’s beautiful
Earth, let’s raise our voices and put our hands to
work building a peaceful world.
Looking
for a new resource to use with your community of faith
on Earth Day?
Check out WAND’s new study
guide “War’s Silent Casualty: The Eco-Footprint of
War,” part of the new edition of our Faith Seeking
Peace curriculum. This resource includes a wealth
of materials for use in worship, discussion, and small
groups. Find the entire curriculum online at www.faithwand.org.
