Hope for God’s Creation: Stewardship in an Age of Futility
Creation Care Discipleship: Why Earthkeeping is an Essential Christian Practice
Andrew J. Spencer’s and Steven Bouma-Prediger’s recent releases applying Christian theology to contemporary environmental problems share similar goals and face common constraints. As trade paperbacks, both books are intended to motivate an indifferent or skeptical Christian readership and theologically equip students to address hot-button political topics. The authors self-identify as Evangelical, utilize the language of creation care, draw heavily on biblical texts and models, and unapologetically employ eschatology to envision planetary futures. Interestingly, both volumes assume that readers theologically align with the authors. This is particularly evident in Spencer’s introduction, where he defines his project by stating: “This book is less an argument for the need for some sort of Christianized environmentalism and more an explanation of the orthodox, evangelical theology that leads to an ethics of creation care” (7). For the reader familiar with the history of Protestantism, this brings up the questions of what comprises “orthodox” evangelical theology and if the implied correctness and the ethical self-justification it offers can be so easily attained?
In terms of constraints, both Spencer and Bouma-Prediger are intentionally grappling with ongoing political divisions among Christians, where conservatives invoke the Scriptures to dismiss environmental concerns or demote them as a priority for public attention. Meanwhile, environmentalists critique Christianity’s questionable track record. Many Christians who take threats like climate change seriously secularize their responses or become overwhelmed by the complexity of the economic and technological forces generating the dilemmas and lose their resolve. The political stand-offs have recharged old schisms going back to the 19th century and before. These writing projects share the challenge of attracting and motivating potential readers who announce they are not “tree huggers” or who dismiss climate change as a hoax, while at the same time reassuring dutiful congregants serving on church sustainability committees. With dozens of ecotheological books from a full range of denominational perspectives already in print, Spencer and Bouma-Prediger must decide whether to reassert widely circulated models like earthkeeping by reframing them for millennial subcultures, or dig into the social roots of the disunion, such as deindustrialization and personal expectations for fiscal and professional advancement in a corporation-ruled and increasingly global economy.
Both volumes assume that exposing readers to relevant biblical texts and introducing them to careful exegesis will chip away the apathy and elevate concern for creation. Their explications draw on many of the same texts, like Genesis 1 and 2, and Romans 8. While Spencer makes the greater effort to examine conflicting narratives, such as Lynn White’s (1967) critique of Christianity’s historical role in forwarding technological advances and spiritually disempowering nature,1 he leans more toward correcting misconceptions of secular environmentalists than toward taking sides in Evangelicalism’s contemporary internal discontents. Neither book presents a systematic examination of faith-based anti-environmental discourse or dissects current within-faith policy conflicts in detail. In fact, neither utilizes the term “environmental” in the title. Bouma-Prediger favors the words “ecology” for the general area of ethical concern, because “the words environment and environmental fail to accurately describe the world in which we live” (8). In addition, he argues it separates humans from nature. He prefers the term “creation” to “world” while pointing out just exactly how much of the physical realm that word covers—far more than one little planet. Bouma-Prediger identifies “earthkeeping” as the best descriptor of the Christian calling, because “it vividly reminds us of our inescapable embeddedness in the world and our God-given calling to serve, protect, and restore our home place” (9). Spencer makes frequent use of the identifier “environmental,” yet he is very weary of secular environmentalism that rejects Christianity out-of-hand. Like Bouma-Prediger, he discusses the creation rather than just one more planet floating in a meaningless vacuum.
Although both authors argue for answering Christ’s call to service, Bouma-Prediger emphasizes joining with the greater Christian community in pursuit of discipleship. Rather than placing a premium on keeping to an orthodox and distinctive Evangelical or Reformed path, the author praises ecumenical insights and the diversity of fruitful visions within the global church. As his title, Hope for God’s Creation: Stewardship in an Age of Futility, announces, Spencer tackles the futility of despair and the immobilizing apathy it generates by focusing on the centrality of hope and, thereby, of right belief and eschatology in actualizing creation care. In his introduction, he admonishes his readers that “Christian hope encourages us to love the creation for the sake of the one who made it” (12).
Steven Bouma-Prediger’s background in Reformed theology and academic philosophy informs his opening gambit, where he introduces meditations on scriptural texts to project a biblical vision of the creation and then employs virtue ethics as a foundation for earthkeeping. Vignettes about canoeing with his kids and taking college students to the Grand Canyon add a pleasant, personal touch to the exegesis and set a classroom-friendly tone. Chapter 2 begins and ends with the rivers and trees. What initially seem like cherry-picked passages spanning both Testaments flow together into a concise explanation of Calvinist creation theology and its integral relationship to eschatology. The portrait begins with origins in Genesis 1 and ends with Revelation’s new heavens and new earth, where the waters of life pour from Christ’s throne. Bouma-Prediger points to the holy city as encompassing the true wealth of nations, and as a model for “all that is good and whole . . .” (36). In its second biblical meditation, Creation Care Discipleship proclaims the importance of biblical instructions to remember in a “dismembered world” and a groaning creation. In the story of Noah,2 God acts to correct the damage caused by sin and the universal flood by remembering Noah and the ark and “all those on this floating species preserve” (43). The book’s early chapters reinforce the concept that humans and other living organisms share God’s earth, and the creation is not a stack of boxes with humans on the top crushing the less significant, supporting boxes beneath. The covenants are not idealized ethereal promises of a future relationship, but assurance that we can thrive in a wounded world. Bouma-Prediger summarizes, “Because of his covenant love, God remembers us and all our nonhuman kin” (44).
In Chapter 3, Creation Care Discipleship argues for the value of theology and for utilizing ethics to ascertain “objective moral standards” (45). Bouma-Prediger outlines the doctrine of creation with seven Ds: distinction between God and creation; creation’s dependence on God; God’s decision to create was from love; creation’s temporal as opposed to eternal duration; God’s design is regular and orderly; evil is not intrinsic but “is a defection from how things should be;” and the delight in creation as a “place of beauty and enjoyment” and its value arises “simply because God made it” (49–51). However, true understanding of the doctrine of creation is more than conducting an inventory of its components. It is performative and demands the “actions implicit in the claims” (52). To accentuate the platform for Christian response, Bouma-Prediger inserts a short description of a trip to the Boundary Waters Wilderness as “one piece of holy ground and its creatures” (54). However, as the themes of “performative” and “keeping” emerge as virtue ethics, the text does not engage the working or the household realms. Dusk falling on the pondside camp and the holy creatures, including beavers and bats, will attract student interest, yet a mowed hay field and a family garden are also holy spaces. Bouma-Prediger argues that earthkeeping should replace Christian stewardship, because the latter term places humans at the top of a hierarchical chain. However, the original conceptualization of stewardship was as an agrarian movement, which was, in its time, a productive melding of religion and science in pursuit of soil and water conservation. Rather than providing a detailed list of sustainability-oriented political actions, Creation Care Discipleship utilizes eschatology to construct an image of the earth as it should be. “God’s good future” will be earthly, free of evil, and restore a state where God, humans, and creatures dwell together in a unified earth and heaven (70–72). Interestingly, although Chapter 3’s title mentions “humble humans,” the text claims that fulfilling God’s plan is based first on who we are, and three keystone virtues—justice, love, and hope—without adding humility to the list.
Contra to Spencer’s demand for orthodoxy, Creation Care Discipleship commits a chapter to “Ecumenical Insights,” drawing on wisdom from representative socially conscious Christian lineages. Providing a brief overview of denominational contributions, Chapter 4 leads with the visions of Pope Francis, Greek Orthodox Patriarch Bartholomew I, and Lutheran ethicist Paul Santmire. Bouma-Prediger carefully selects generally applicable concepts, such as the Pope’s critique of contemporary culture and his emphasis on the interrelated nature of environmental and social issues, including the root causes of poverty. The chapter concludes with ecofeminist Rosemary Radford Ruether’s analysis of human exploitation of each other and of nature and Native American activist Randy Woodley’s application of Native American concepts, such as harmony, as a foundation for Christian relationship building. Having taught at Baylor University, where Roman Catholic students have displaced Methodists as the second largest denominational cohort after Baptists, I found the presentation compatible with the demands of holding civil conversations in a theologically diverse classroom. Creation Care Discipleship treats Catholic contributions to global conversations as valid and worthy and recognizes ecofeminists for their leadership relative to social justice without demanding that the readers accept the doctrinal or philosophical foundations of either. The volume captures the need for Christians to overcome divisions and sectarianism to take coordinated and effective action in countering environmental degradation at a global scale.
After describing the difficulties of being a good shepherd, with Christ as the model, Steven Bouma-Prediger climbs back in his canoe and appraises the demanding Christian calling of culturally paddling upstream. The priorities are living simply, overcoming fear, pursuing environmental justice, seeking reconciliation, and educating others for “a flourishing life for all” (146). The book summarizes strategies from the environmental mainstream writings of Wendell Berry, David Orr, and Robin Wall Kimmerer, without taking a socio-economic deep dive into the origins of the unnavigable low water and flash flooding. The chapter on “faith in action” appropriately introduces the necessity of risk-taking in doing the right thing, and then returns to the comfort, if constant demands, of greening one’s own backyard. It’s hard to discern, however, what constitutes simplicity relative to creation’s groaning versus the spiritual and ethical entrapment materialism promotes. Bouma-Prediger closes by bringing the creative and eschatological themes full circle with a vision of biblical shalom.
In contrast to Bouma-Prediger’s ecumenical framing, Andrew Spencer presents environmentalism not just as conflicted but as potentially dangerous to right belief. The Baptist theologian claims he is providing “a warning of some of the dangers of an excessive focus on environmental well-being,” and promises to avoid “the dangers that have shipwrecked the faith of others” (21). In an ethical realm, where indifference or avoiding action out of self-interest are common failures, discouraging passion for the cause is an oddly self-critical way to begin. Hope for God’s Creation immediately accepts some common models for melding creation care with Christian concerns for human welfare, including acting for the common good, building a holy city, caring for those most at environmental risk, and “building gospel friendships” via seeking common cause with neighbors (24). Yet, Spencer’s first full chapter continues by eschewing “the dangers of environmental entanglement” or investing oneself too fully in any cultural activity, including sports or working to eradicate poverty (25–26). Shying away from the ecumenical, Spencer warns: “If we lose sight of our theological convictions for the sake of cooperation, we can find ourselves drifting into soul-sapping heterodoxy or worse” (26). He presents accepting any environmental ideology as a potential dilution of Christian commitment because Christianity has just one “big idea: the gospel” (27). Hope for God’s Creation worries that pursuing a Christian environmental ethic will cause “theological drift” by taking up the liberal Protestant tenets of interpreting doctrines “through a practical moral lens” (29). “The danger is that holiness, the Great Commission, and the glory of God will become secondary to the pragmatic concerns of the environment” (31).
The second chapter then follows up by quoting the declaration of Michael Shellenberger that environmentalism “is the dominant secular religion of the educated, upper-middle-class elites” (36). The book analyzes critics like Lynn White, yet confesses that for theological conservatives, environmental ethics “is not one of our points of strength” (50). Hope for God’s Creation briefly covers leaders like Francis Schaeffer, who tried to build bridges between Evangelicalism and 20th-century culture while simultaneously casting response to environmental issues as a centerpiece in culture wars. It identifies genuine points of division between denominations like the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) and many environmental advocacy organizations over issues like population policy but does not discuss the melding of ideologically-charged conservative economic policies with faith-based conservatism. Unlike Bouma-Prediger, Spencer does not credit the multitude of Christian efforts in the past fifty years to introduce churches to recycling or to provide moderate, functional environmental ethical guidance. From an educator’s perspective, the vague doctrinal foundations, the fear of engaging in simple community service, the lack of evidence for sweeping cultural assumptions, and the de facto narrow focus on the SBC’s worries are disadvantages for assigning this book in multidenominational classroom settings. Theological beginners will have difficulties placing Spencer’s position and many students, such as mainline Presbyterians and Roman Catholics, will find the creation care endeavors and successes of their faith communities dismissed out of hand. Conversely, schools and churches which share Spencer’s concerns for heterodoxy may find his appraisal of the risks of environmentalism a necessary first step to tackling the practical aspects of global change.
Hope for God’s Creation tries to avoid the pitfalls of the 19th-century social gospel movement and liberal Protestantism and place doctrine before ethics, by dedicating a chapter to each of four doctrinal questions, including what is the Christian source for authority, why is creation worthy of consideration, what should the human relationship to creation be, and what is the end of creation? The volume then covers special revelation and recommends careful engagement with science and patience with new scientific theories. It distinguishes among three forms of value commonly discussed in philosophical environmental ethics—intrinsic, instrumental, and inherent—and, with C. S. Lewis, favors inherent value in reference to God. The discussion of values cites Francis Schaeffer on the Fall and Christian pursuit of moral order via shalom. Spencer identifies humans as unique and as producers. He thus backs stewardship as a valid model, subject to limitations, including sin, distortions of rationality, and, interestingly, the temporal limitations of Christ’s historic earthly ministry. His volume handles the potential conflict between God’s promise to renew all creation and the contemporary church taking restorative action by encouraging Christians to “embody substantial healing” until God’s promises are fulfilled (158).
In the practice of creation care, Spencer converges with Bouma-Prediger on the importance of holistic discipleship as necessary to actualizing Christian missions, and forwards Francis Schaeffer’s concept of the church as a “pilot plant” for the greater society (171). Maintaining his patrol for theological error, Spencer remains wary of “the proclivity to drift” and “distracted worship” (177–179). Although Spencer reserves only two of ten chapters for addressing specific environmental concerns, he demonstrates courage in logically dismissing climate conspiracies and campaigning to replace conspiracy thinking with “Gospel credibility” (186). Consistent with the cultivation of hope, he advises against demonizing the opposition and polarizing public discourse. For the climate skeptics among his readers, he recommends Pascal’s wager as a means to evaluate the costs of making a mistake. Identifying the church as an ecological community, his agenda lauds localism, self-restraint, sharing resources, living thoughtfully, and recapturing wonder. Nonetheless, even as he concludes, Spencer takes a swipe at the liberal Green New Deal and eco-philosopher Whitney Bauman for packaging societal needs, like childcare and student loan relief, with low-carbon economic planning, without offering a politically viable alternative (196).
As someone already familiar with environmental ethics, exploring the books in tandem was informative for me because it made me think about the differences between today’s Christians and the faith communities of the 1970s and 1980s, when earthkeeping and creation care emerged as Christian ethical strategies. Back then, there were liberals and conservatives who were unhappy with each other, and atmospheric change, including global warming and the hole in the ozone, was already a prominent environmental concern. Many Christians, though, were not connecting their faith with the science, and the surge of theological studies utilizing key scriptural sources to specifically address environmental questions was just beginning. In comparison, today’s youth are much better scientifically and politically informed and more frustrated with their elders for their unwillingness to protect future generations. What will they think when Spencer largely cites mid-20th-century theologians when addressing Christ and culture, betraying the deficit of “orthodox Evangelical” environmental engagement over the last half-century? Have we become theologically afraid of our own shadows? While Bouma-Prediger captures the difficulties of confronting cultural resistance, is a general plea for simplicity going to make much difference when the energy economy also underpins farm tractors, driving to school, and keeping the lights on? Will the younger generation notice that the theologians are not confidently sailing into the storm?
