Earth Day can ground us in faith

Psalm 104:1-2,5-6a,19,33-34 (The Inclusive Bible)
Bless Yahweh my soul! Yahweh my God, how great you are! Clothed and majesty and glory, wrapped in robe of light, you stretch the heavens out like a tent…. You fixed the earth on its foundations so it can never totter, and wrapped it with the deep as with a robe…. You made the moon to tell the seasons, and the sun knows when to set…. I will sing to you all my life, I will make music for my God as long as I live. May these reflections of mine give God as much pleasure as God gives me!

Last Wednesday (April 22nd) represented the international celebration of Earth Day. But since last week was not my week for a clergy column, I thought I would follow it up with an article this week.

The verses above are just a few from the entirety of Psalm 104, from which I preached this last Sunday.

In the traditional liturgies of many faiths, we are often taught to look upward to find the Divine. Yet this psalmist invites us to look outward and downward into the deep soil, the wide oceans, and the shifting winds to encounter the Living God.

In this Psalm we find a vision of the Creator who is intimately woven into the fabric of the cosmos. The opening verses present the Holy One as a presence clothed in the very elements of our world. Light is the divine garment; the sky is the divine shelter. This imagery suggests that when we pollute our atmosphere or degrade the clarity of our skies, we are in a sense, tattering the very garments the Holy One has chosen to wear among us. Earth Day is not merely a secular call to clean up the earth. For the person of faith it is an act of reverence; a commitment to keeping the “robes of majesty” pristine.

The Psalm goes on to ground us in the physical stability of our home.

There is a profound sense of “enoughness” in these descriptions of the earth’s foundations and the deep waters. The Earth was established with a balance intended to sustain life through the ages.

However, we live in a moment where that very foundation feels shaken. The “deep” that once stood in a balanced harmony is now rising, fueled by a warming climate, threatening the very landscapes the psalmist describes.

To honor the Creator is to honor the boundaries and systems that make life possible. When we view the Earth as a commodity to be strip-mined or a bottomless trash bin, we forget its foundational sacredness. This scripture is a reminder that the Earth belongs to the Holy One, not to our industrial appetites. Stewardship therefore, is not a hobby for the environmentally conscious; it is a fundamental requirement of the spiritual life.

The psalmist also recognizes the intricate clockwork of the natural world, noting how the celestial bodies mark the seasons and understand their timing. This speaks to the “knowing” inherent in the cosmos. There is a wisdom in the wild that far exceeds human knowledge. Migratory birds know when to fly; the salmon knows when to return to the stream; the deciduous tree knows when to drop its leaves.

Our modern crisis stems largely from our attempt to override these God-given rhythms. We demand daylight twenty-four hours a day through artificial glow; we demand summer fruits in the dead of winter; we demand infinite growth on a finite planet. Earth Day calls us to recalibrate our lives to the rhythm of the sun and moon. It asks us: How can we live in a way that respects the seasons of rest and renewal that the Divine has woven into the earth?

This reflection is not meant to lead us into despair, but into a deeper, more joyful engagement with the world. The psalmist concludes with a vow of praise, promising to sing as long as life lasts. Notice that this joy is tied directly to a “reflection” upon the works of the Divine. When we spend time in nature, truly seeing the intricate veins of a leaf or the vast power of a thunderstorm, we are engaging in a form of prayer.

This reflection leads to a realization. We are not separate from this creation. We are part of the song.

If our meditation is to be truly pleasing to the Holy One, it must be backed by action. We cannot claim to love the Creator while we are complicit in the destruction of the creation. So I invite you to see every day as Earth Day, and every act of conservation as an act of worship.

When you plant a native tree, you are adding a verse to the Psalm. When you advocate for clean water and air, you are protecting the foundations God established. When you reduce your consumption, you are honoring the ancient timing of the seasons.

Let us move forward with a renewed sense of awe. Let us remember that the breath we draw is a gift from the same Spirit that moved over the face of the deep. May we be a people whose lives are a pleasing reflection, ensuring that the majesty of the Holy remains visible in every shimmering ocean, every towering forest, and every breath of fresh, clean air.