Monday 4 June 2001

It may seem strange to some that the theme of this year's study is that of the Environment when some other topics may seem more urgent or pressing. We might think of genetic engineering, the moral state of the country and such international concerns as the Middle East or the critical situation in Zimbabwe.

I don't deny the importance of these subjects for one moment. But nor do they make the topic before us any less of a priority. So I for one welcome our subject and I am delighted that we have such a wide-range of distinguished expertise - purple and otherwise - to help focus and inform our discussions, including Sir John Houghton, Professor David Bellamy, and David Shreeve - as well as the Archbishop of York and the Bishops of London and Hereford.

My role is to offer an introduction, to set the scene-something I am pleased and proud to do, because for over twenty-five years issues of ecology and care for our environment have not been far from my reading and thinking. I was first stirred by Rachel Carson's great book Silent Spring and later by the writings of Lynn White and Professor John Passmore. More recently, the time I have spent on matters to do with poverty has alerted me to the link between environmental pollution and the dire poverty of at least half of the world's population.

So let me open this study by asking: Why should we be concerned by the problem and how should it inform our theology and lifestyles?

First, because Christianity stands under judgement. On Boxing Day 1966 the historian Lynn White addressed the American Association for the Advancement of Science on 'The Historical Roots of our Ecological Crisis' and laid the blame squarely at the feet of Christianity. The population explosion, pollution and 'the now geological deposits of sewage and garbage' are 'at least partly to be explained as a realisation of the Christian dogma of man's transcendence of, and rightful mastery over, nature.' Since that attack there has been a litany of complains ranging from John Passmore in Man's Responsibility for Nature (1974) through to Peter Singer, Jonathan Porritt and many others. John Passmore, for example, cites the incarnation as undeniable proof that Christianity has a faulty and distorted view of creation. Porritt argues that 'the Christian Church has always been (and still is) part of the problem rather than part of the solution'. Another view associated with Peter Singer is that once we reject 'species-ism' - the concept that humankind is uniquely and especially important - then we become more compassionate towards our environment.

It is not my intention to intrude on an area of study which the Bishop of London may wish to consider but such questions raised by those hostile to Christianity need to be examined. For a spirited rejoinder to these and other criticisms I refer you to Philip Sampson's book Six Modern Myths (IVP 2000).

A second reason is a growing concern that thinkers have not given sufficient attention to the important link between poverty and environment. The most obvious reason for this is that the very poor are virtually invisible to the rest of us; they have no voice and few rights. By seeking to make them visible we enlarge the constituency of those with a stake in preventing the degradation of our environment. At the same time, we increase the sense of urgency about the ecological challenge we all face-rich and poor alike.

Now, the interaction between environment and poverty is twofold. Clearly environmental degradation causes poverty. An obvious example is the link between climate change and expansion of deserts, such as the Sahara with the resulting loss of both arable and grazing land for herds. Another example is from the clearing of forests in Central America for agricultural land, leading to the loss of the rain forest for indigenous hunter-gatherer groups.

On the other hand, poverty can be the cause of environmental damage. I recall going to Armenia in 1994. As we flew from Moscow the words of the First Secretary rang in my ears: 'When you land in Yeravan, look out for the trees.'

As we approached the capital we looked. We saw no trees and the penny dropped: very poor people were uprooting trees for fuel and for shelter. They had no choice in the matter. Similarly in our visit to Nigeria we noticed that fires were burning throughout the country.

Farmers were burning fields to kill the weeds. It seemed at times as if we ourselves were driving through burning fields as acrid fumes attacked our throats. A Government Minister explained: 'poor people cannot afford insecticides -- burning is the only way to control pests and weeds.'

There are many other examples one could find to make the point that very poor people are forced to create conditions that imperil themselves and our world. It is thus very much in the interests of richer countries to bring poorer nations out of extreme poverty to share in the fight against environmental damage.

Of course, as we are all aware, this raises some thorny questions in working out the challenge of raising environmental standards in the developing nations. First, it seems hypocritical to impose uniform standards when deforestation and pollution has been for many years the price paid for development in Europe and North America. Should ecological security be sought and bought at the expense of the poorest?

Second, we note that the poor tend to be disproportionately affected by climate change, habitat loss and pollution. In addressing the human contribution to climate change we are clearly addressing a situation in which the production of greenhouse gases is overwhelmingly the product of industrial activity in North America and Europe. However, the most devastating impact of climate change is likely to be felt in poorer nations - Africa, and notably the island nations of the Pacific, some of which could disappear if sea levels rise.

Third and finally, we do have a theological perspective to offer and the Bishop of London will provide us with an ample spread when we come to his contribution. However, there is one aspect which has recently come to my attention and I believe it may inform and inspire our commitment to protect our fragile planet. I refer to a recently discovered and rather obscure theological insight which was triggered when I read Mark McIntosh's new book Mysteries of Faith. He speaks of 'creation, us included, as God's loving speech' and he refers to a view held by early Christians that 'humanity was created on the sixth day because humanity is that part of creation which was supposed to give harmony to all the other creatures, to articulate for them the Word that God was speaking to all.' He goes on to say that 'the early Christians were fascinated by the fact that Jesus was also crucified on a Friday, the "sixth day" of the week. In Christ, our humanity struggled through the blare and bitterness of the world's sin to hear the truth of his identity as God's beloved.'

For example, according to Maximus the Confessor, 'the sixth day brings in the completion of things subject to nature .... The sixth day reveals the principle of [the] being of things.' And St Bonaventure explores the link between creation and incarnation: it was precisely our human nature created on 'the sixth day' which God has taken up and redeemed in Christ. Bonaventure says,

look at the Mercy Seat and wonder
that in him there is joined
the First Principle and the last,
God with man, who was formed on the sixth day;
the eternal is joined with temporal man,
born of the Virgin in the fullness of time.

The value of such writers for us is that the theological connection made between creation and salvation avoids the blandness of a great deal of new age philosophies and the vagueness of creationism. The centrality of incarnation and salvation brings into focus not the arrogance of an anthropocentric view of the universe but rather the theology that it was God's intention that humankind should serve and tend God's glorious creation.

For these reasons and, of course, many more our chosen theme is topical, relevant and Christian. It was G K Chesterton who once observed in the 20s when people flocked to Margate to have a much needed holiday that if you knocked at a landlady's door you should not ask her: 'Do you promise to give us a good breakfast? Will you change the sheets and keep our room clean? Will you keep to the price you charge and ensure there are no overheads?'

'No' said Chesterton, 'the proper question to ask her is: "What is your view of the universe?" If she has a proper view of it, the sheets will be changed, she will give you a nourishing breakfast and she will be honest and good.'

And that in essence is the approach we must take. What is our theology of the universe? If we believe that all things come from our Maker then Christians of all people should be trusted to look after the world and to care for one another.