In the previous post, I explored—perhaps a bit overly much!—our two-fold relationship as an integral part of nature while also as observers of nature. It is that dual role that leads directly to our responsibility as stewards—as guardians and keepers—of the world we inhabit and the world we utilize. 

We are Stewards of Nature

            We not only dwell in nature, we also transform it by the way we use it, sometimes for the better, but sometimes not! So to begin, why should we consider ourselves stewards—keepers, custodians—of nature?

• The first reason arises from the evolutionary point of view—i.e. we are, as far as we know (at least as far as I know), the only sentient and prescient creatures able to act based upon an ability to be reflective, able to consider the effect our actions may have on the environment rather than acting simply on genetic impulse or a neurological trigger.
• If one needs a theological justification, it is available in a number of religions but I’ll just reference the one I know best. Christians and, perhaps, Jews could find numerous references to human stewardship in the natural world in both the Hebrew scriptures and in the “New” Testament, but both could turn to Genesis 1:28, part of the first creation account, where—after creating humans, male and female, “in his own image”—God says to them
  • “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Have dominion over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.”

            Traditionally, these were known as the dominion verses. But a number of biblical scholars suggest that a more accurate description may be the stewardship verses. That is, rather than giving human beings rights over nature, these verses give us the responsibility to care for nature.

• Then one might turn to a Native American “take” on this issue, in this case Ethnobotanist, author, and Potawatami elder Robin Kimmerer, who asserts,

“We need acts of restoration, not only for polluted waters and degraded lands, but also for our relationship to the world. We need to restore honor to the way we live, so that when we walk through the world we don’t have to avert our eyes with shame, so that we can hold our heads high and receive the respectful acknowledgment of the rest of [the] earth’s beings” (Braiding Sweetgrass).

            Some individuals and groups in this human family have embraced the crucial importance of addressing a variety of environmental issues, and yet, despite these affirmations and calls to action, most of us might give a cursory nod to our role as stewards of nature, but we have not—nationally or globally—accepted in sufficiently actionable terms the responsibilities that define such stewardship. Rachel Carson, best known for her impactful book, Silent Spring (1962), said it well:

“We still haven’t become mature enough to think of ourselves as only a tiny part of a vast and incredible universe. Man’s attitude toward nature is today critically important simply because we have now acquired a fateful power to alter and destroy nature. But man is a part of nature, and his war against nature is inevitably a war against himself.”

            The number of environmental issues which we must find ways to address are way too many even to list here, so I mention just four among the most problematic:

• The depletion of the ozone layer is linked to boththe ‘greenhouse effect’ and the phenomenon of ‘global warming’.  The increase in ozone layer depletion will invite the lethal ultraviolet rays from the sun which can damage humans and injure plants, animals and marine life, while earth’s rising temperatures are causing any number of negative effects on nearly every community  on the planet.
• Deforestation. Forests have a multiple ecological role to play which affects all types of life in a variety of ways—e.g. soil erosion, floods, wind erosion, and groundwater evaporation. Thus, the random destruction of forests while ignoring appropriate thinning, reforestation and afforestation can have devastating effects on the environment.
• Loss of biodiversity, i.e. the minimizing of the variety of life on earth, which is caused, among other things, by loss of habitat and by chemical fertilizers, pesticides and oil pollution. And while this next comment is not strictly a biodiversity issue, Nicholas Kristoff in an op ed article in the NY Times (7/11/2020) notes that growing numbers of states have passed animal protection laws, and quotes Peter Singer, who observes (especially with regard to meat production factory farms) that “One day future generations will wonder how we could be blind to the suffering we are so needlessly inflicting on billions of animals.”
• Water Pollution has multiple causes but among them are the thousands of tons of mercury, nitrogen, phosphorus, cadmium, lead, zinc and other waste that is dumped every day in river and sea waters.

           Note that in each of these issues—and others I’m sure you could add—it is human action or inaction that is a major contributing factor to problems being foisted on the natural world.

           Whereas nature once frightened us with her mysterious vastness, it now frightens us with its limitations and a new-found fragility. We are faced quite uncompromisingly with the problem of how to stop, or at least moderate, the destructive effect of those human actions which violate the laws of nature, the harmony of the biosphere, (and) threaten to bring disaster (that) may turn out to be universal (Adapted from “Man in the Realm of Nature,” Dialectical Materialism, A. Spirkin).

           It is why we are privileged, permitted, and obligated to be stewards in this natural world of which we are a part—as my friend, Guy Sayles, put it so profoundly, it is our task “to care for creation as a home in which generations after us will live and not as a warehouse of expendable resources for our reckless use” (Mars Hill University Commencement address, 5/11/19).

           Because Rachel Carson, again, also states the case so well, I give her the last word on this topic:

“We stand now where two roads diverge. But unlike the roads in Robert Frost’s familiar poem, they are not equally fair. The road we have long been traveling is deceptively easy, a smooth superhighway on which we progress with great speed, but at its end lies disaster. The other fork of the road – the one less traveled by – offers our last, our only chance to reach a destination that assures the preservation of the earth.”

Amen and Amen!

            Finally, we turn to our third relationship with nature:

We are recipients of aesthetic gifts from nature

            Simply put, nature provides for many, perhaps most of us, moments and sometimes hours of enjoyment—ranging from simple appreciation to heart-breaking thrill—in the presence of nature’s beauty, fascinating order, dizzying diversity, and if we are fortunate enough to find it, a display unspoiled by human touch.

            Let’s hear the first hand expressions of such experiences from several people who are self-aware that they are one of those “recipients of aesthetic gifts from nature.”

• This was expressed several weeks ago on Facebook by a longtime dear friend and “on the stage” colleague:

“Nature always soothes my soul, lands me in a place of awe. The colors, shapes, resilience, all there as a gift reminding me there is never an end to the mysteries all around me. As the world churns with grief and uncertainty, I try and take deep breaths and look around at all the magic” (Callie Warner, 7/2/2020)

• And this, from a PhD student in Philosophy at Purdue University:

“When we think of beauty in nature, we might most immediately think of things that dazzle the senses – the prominence of a mountain, the expanse of the sea, the unfolding of the life of a flower. . . .  One might even think that this experience of beauty is one of the bases for valuing nature – nature is valuable because it is beautiful. . . . We can also experience the world as beautiful because of its rational structure and our ability to grasp that structure through thought.  Think for instance of the geometric structure of a crystal, or snowflake, or nautilus shell.” And he concludes that “this view of nature includes an inherent call to protect that which is true, good, and beautiful. . . . Let us continue to be awe-struck, like the child on the seashore, or clambering up a tree. Let us hold onto that experience, and fight for the environment that makes it possible, both for the child in each of us, and for those that come after us” (Michael Popejoy, “Beauty in Nature”).

• Richard Rohr, in one of his “Daily Meditations,” observes that

“we need to listen to the voices of Earth. We should be listening to the stars in the heavens and the sun and the moon, to the mountains and the plains, to the forests and rivers and seas that surround us, to the meadows and the flowering grasses, to the songbirds and the insects and to their music” And quoting Thomas Berry, “Our inner spiritual world cannot be activated without experience of the outer world of wonder for the mind, beauty for the imagination, and intimacy for the emotions” (3/16/18).

• And this from a gripping novel I just finished reading:

“I honestly don’t know how you do it,” Daniel said. “How do you get through the days?”  “I cope by looking up and out,” [she said]. “That’s where I find help. Nature never lets me down” (Anne Frasier, Find Me, p, 268).

• Let me offer some of my personal aesthetic experiences of nature:

Every time I go to the beach or take a flight to travel abroad, I fall in love with the sea again. I’ve never fully recovered from the awesome, stunning impression the ocean made on me the first time, already in my late twenties, that I saw it—its depth, its vastness as it disappeared over the horizon.

The natural world itself—in its massiveness, its splendor, its awesomeness—can offer overpowering moments of a sense of connection to “something beyond,” and I have been fortunate enough to be caught up in the wonders of our National Parks—Yellowstone and Glacier—the fjords of Norway, the “Outback” and rain forests of Australia, the mountains, glaciers, and fjords—Milford and Doubtful Sounds—of New Zealand, and many others from various parts of the world that I need not name.

All of them, unforgettable, and yet my meditative and most recurrent and appreciative connections with nature occur simply sitting on our deck, looking out gratefully over our spacious fenced in back yard—we call it “the back forty”—surrounded by its “green screen” with the bird calls from the trees, wild turkeys in  the woods, squirrels and bunnies scampering about, our two dogs enjoying their “kingdom,” and with the Blue Ridge Mountains visible beyond.

And who has not been caught up in an ecstatic experience of “something more” in the beauty of a piece of music, art, theatre, or, to come back full circle, a transformative “magic moment” in a loving human relationship. But those, you might say, are not “nature.” Oh, but they are—human creations? Yes, but we, remember, are also a part of nature!

              Before I go, as I recount the experiences that have been made possible by a privileged life, I must acknowledge with a heavy heart the tragedy of the many in our world—the disabled, the disenfranchised, those discriminated against, the poor who struggle from day to day—who do not have “a back yard” nor the time, the means, or the ability to engage with nature in a way that appreciates its beauty rather than its threat to their well-being. It’s a topic to be explored in more depth than permitted here, but we owe them the assistance they are willing to accept that allows them to find the way up and forward to a life of sufficiency and enough leisure to join us in our appreciation of the splendid offerings of nature.

            Finally, let me conclude with the following from Diane Ackerman:

“The great affair, the love affair with life, is to live as variously as possible, to groom one’s curiosity like a high-spirited thoroughbred, climb aboard, and gallop over the thick, sun-struck hills every day.  Where there is no risk, the emotional terrain is flat and unyielding, and, despite all its dimensions, valleys, pinnacles, and detours, life will seem to have none of its magnificent geography, only a length.  It began in mystery, and it will end in mystery, but what savage and beautiful country lies in between” (A Natural History of the Senses, 1990).

          In a final post (heavy sighs of relief!), I will try to draw some conclusions from these reflections on science and our relationship with nature as well as letting Loren Eiseley, in his own creative prose and poetry, draw us to a memorable dénouement.