Psalm 65
April 24, 2022
William G. Carter
Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life,
bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through
the middle of the street of the city. On either side of the river is the tree
of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month; and the
leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. Nothing accursed will be
found there anymore. But the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and
his servants will worship him; they will see his face, and his name will
be on their foreheads. And there will be no more night; they need no light
of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign
forever and ever.
This is one of the most beautiful descriptions of the scriptures. It is a scene from the concluding chapter of the Bible. At the end of human life as we know it, God sends down a new form of the city of Jerusalem. This New Jerusalem is enormous, a walled city with all the gates open. It shines bright, glimmering like the sun. Every shadow has been illumined. Every painful memory has been redeemed.
And through the center of the city, there is river bright as crystal. It produces healing in abundance, irrigating the Tree of Life and producing an enormous quantity of fruit.
This is where our life is headed. This is how our planet will look. Fresh from last Sunday’s revelation, this is our Easter promise. It will be our Pentecost hope. After a long slog through centuries of pain and difficulty, this is a most fitting conclusion to the story of life. Everything is heading toward this glorious scene of redemption. Looks like heaven on earth, the final reality.
But I want to let you in on a little secret, especially when it comes to this end of the Bible. Ready? Always be suspicious when the preacher speaks only of the destination and not the journey.
The way that the Bible has been put together reveals a long journey from a garden to a city. From Eden to the New Jerusalem. From innocence to restoration. And anyone who has read on ahead knows the final word in the Bible is grace. Clearly the last chapter of the Bible is a happy ending. Everything will turn out well. Everything broken will be healed. Life shall abound. This is our sacred hope.
But we're not there yet. You know it as well as I. We are still on the journey.
John is the visionary who writes down the Book of Revelation.
He sets the final scene, not in the clouds of heaven, but on the soil of earth.
This earth. This planet is the place where God does all the holy work that we
know. And the Psalm sings of a living, vital creation:
God builds the mountains.
God silences
the roaring seas.
God visits
the earth by watering it.
God provides
grain for bread and invites everything to grow.
The pastures of the wilderness overflow, the hills gird themselves with joy.
It’s possible to sing our way through Psalm 65: the hills are alive with the sound of music. This is a psalm that honors creation, that perceives the glory of God in a world that is completely alive. I watched a few fat honeybees buzz yesterday around a bush breaking into pink bloom. This is how the world was imagined. Everything is alive. The smallest creatures flourish. The psalm looks toward God and sings, “You are the hope of all the ends of the earth.” Everywhere there’s evidence of God’s generosity. Allergies and rainstorms aside, who doesn’t enjoy spring in this corner of the world?
And yet – and we know there’s a yet – the global temperatures are inching up. An enormous chunk of Antarctica is thawing and ready to fall into the sea. This is not a blip on the screen. Nor is it a long-term cyclical event. The scientific record is clear that the environment has been steadily changing since 1980. Can’t pretend any longer.
The Presbyterians are concerned, as are all people with hearts and minds open. This year, our national church will consider and act upon recommendations to address some of the root causes of a changing climate. If anyone has been paying attention, we have experienced an increase of severe weather, including tropical storms, weird temperatures, floods, hurricanes – and tornados in places that have never experienced them before. It’s not the freak blizzard that blows in every twenty years. The climate has become erratic.
Many of us instinctively know that we play a part of the problem. Remember the opening months of the pandemic? Everybody was staying home – and the smog over our cities disappeared. We know this. But we seem unable to make the necessary changes to improve the air quality. Or we reduce this global issue to a matter of political disagreement without ever addressing our human addiction to overconsumption.
As some of you know, my concern has moved far beyond being good stewards of the earth that we share with all other living creatures. It’s really a matter of repentance, of changing our ways, of learning how to care for the planet in ways that make it sustainable for all.
For instance, one of our dogs became anemic this winter. She lost a lot of weight, had no energy. At the lowest point in her health, I had to carry her down the stairs to help her go outside. We discovered the source was probably a tick bite. Medication and attentive care have brought her back to health. Yet in the last two weeks, we’ve found two more ticks.
So what do we do? I was ready to sign up a lawn service to spray the backyard. Blast those bugs into oblivion through chemicals. My very wise wife said, “Wait a minute. If that spray kills the ticks, will it kill anything else? Like the honeybees?” Don’t know.
Now the conversation has turned: what animals will eat the ticks? Well, opossums, for one. Does anybody have an extra pet opossum? Also, some evidence that squirrels might help – but last year, we wanted to chase the squirrels out of the bird feeders, so we bought bird seed with red pepper flakes – and it really works! But now, there may be ticks because there are no possums or squirrels. It’s all a delicate balance. Spraying more chemicals onto the lawn is not the best answer.
[ Just found out there’s a certain fungus (metarhizium anisopliae) that they are effective using in Maine to reduce the tick population. Stay tuned on that one.]
God has established the world to be interdependent. Our Genesis call to “be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, and have dominion” was never intended to be destructive or domineering. Rather, we come alongside all the critters and seek ways to co-exist, to get along, to flourish together.
We give off a certain amount of carbon dioxide whenever we exhale a breath. The tree leaves will process that. But if we cut down our forests, or if we pump astronomical amounts of carbon dioxide exhaust into the air, it throws off the delicate balance. We learn this in seventh grade science class. The problem is that we’d like to pretend it’s not as big a problem as it has become.
I did some poking around the dark corners of the Bible. Did you know the prophets of Israel had to address the environmental tragedies of their own time? Like the prophet Isaiah. Seven hundred years before Jesus, he declared:
The earth dries up and
withers, the world languishes and withers;
the heavens languish
together with the earth.
The earth lies polluted
under its inhabitants;
for they have
transgressed laws, violated the statutes, broken the everlasting covenant.
Therefore a curse devours
the earth, and its inhabitants suffer for their guilt;
therefore the inhabitants of the earth dwindled, and few people are left. (Isaiah 24:4-6)
It’s a frightening scenario. And the root of it all was this: the people stopped caring about the neighborhood. That was the transgression, the violation, the broken covenant. The delicate balance was broken due to human selfishness. The wine dried up. The mirth of dancing ceased. There was widespread chaos in the land.[1]
Similarly, the prophet Jeremiah wept over the repeated denial of his people, who kept insisting that nothing was wrong, no corrections needed to be made, no changes were necessary. Jeremiah knew the blindness of their hearts would bring about the demise of everything they used to treasure. As the prophet warned, “You are trusting in deceptive words that are worthless.” (Jeremiah 7:6-8)
A few years ago, an investigator for the BBC explored the root causes of denial, particularly when it comes to taking care of the earth. Why do people ignore what it right in front of their noses? There are a few factors, it seems. First, fear and guilt cause many to simply shut down. But there’s also the ways in which awareness is raised. Either it’s made to feel that it’s too big a problem to tackle, which fosters denial. Or that it’s too small a problem, so only minor lifestyle changes are needed; this leads to complacency;[2] push away that plastic straw the server gives you in the diner – sure, that will heal the earth.
So we are called to step into the journey. To do something to bring balance back to God’s world. Today’s psalm sings of God’s creative care of the earth. The vision of the last chapter of Revelation points us to God’s vision for this beloved planet. Our calling is to take part in the earth’s care, not to cower in fear nor wither in complacency, but to pick up the trash and reduce the amount we produce. To lighten our footprint and live more simply. To get outside, open our eyes and ears, and savor the good earth.
To that end, here are two suggestions, both from notable Christian leaders. First, if we’re going to pray, we can pray like Pope Francis. One of his prayers goes:
God
of love, show us our place in this world as channels of your love
for all the creatures of this earth,
for not one of them is forgotten in your sight.
Enlighten those who possess power and money
that we may avoid the sin of indifference,
that we may love the common good, advance the weak,
and care for this world in which we live.
We pray as we act. We act as we pray. Prayer and action belong together. And your church wants to be a partner in this work. We are rebooting our Earth Care task force. We are providing opportunities to learn and serve, pray and act. In coming weeks, we are taking hikes together. One of our future Eagle Scouts is planting a pollination garden on the property. We want to act, not wring our hands.
The second suggestion comes from N.T. Wright, the noted Bible scholar. He reminds us how the text from Revelation takes place here, on this soil, on this earth. At the end of it all, we don’t float up to heaven. No, Revelation 22 says heaven comes down here. The river of life gives life. And the trees produce leaves that provide healing.
So do you know what he says? If you want to prepare for
God’s grand and glorious renewed creation, if you want to prepare for that
final day when the Risen Christ will return, plant a tree.[3]
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