We at Creation Justice Ministries have been spending a lot of time this year thinking about the Church. To put a finer point on it, we’ve been thinking a lot about the ways that we interact with individual churches as they go on their own Creation justice journeys. So far, it’s been an exciting year of learning, sharing and discerning. In March we gathered with leaders from a small handful of congregations as well as a judicatory and a conference center to consider what transformative leadership might look like in our climate changed world. They learned about behavior change, climate communication, and how to do effective advocacy and organizing. Those who attended the gathering returned to their congregations in hopes of integrating some of what they learned into the life of the church. We’ll do an online supplement with an additional group of congregations this summer as well as a similar leadership development program with Episcopal leaders in the Northeast (reach out if you’d like more information about either cohort). We’ll also be joining our friends at the BTS Center and the Anabaptist Climate Collaborative for a second iteration of “Claiming Your Call”, a gathering for churches in the Northeast who are listening to discern their congregation’s vocation in their bioregion. Many of the congregations engaged did a similar program with us two years ago and are now taking steps to deepen their commitment to caring for Creation. 

The congregations that we are working with are reflecting on their congregation’s histories. They’re considering their past wins and losses and seeing what lessons those things have to teach them. Some are dealing with declining numbers and aging membership and yet they are able to imagine a future in which the church plays a leading role in guiding their community to a thriving that includes all of God’s creatures. And in the midst of uncertainty and fatigue, these congregations are finding the strength to celebrate the fact that God is not done with them or this world. 

What we’re finding is that in a world that feels like one crisis after another, church leaders feel overwhelmed and exhausted. Of course, that makes complete sense. And yet in the midst of that weariness, we’ve found that congregations are also seeking out that next faithful act they can do to make a small difference in their communities and watersheds. They know they can’t fix everything, but by learning more about their contexts, taking serious stock of their capacity, and listening deeply for their calling, they are able to discern what God might have in store for them and they’re able to do so with a clear-eyed vision. 

One of my core beliefs is that the local church can be a force for good in this world. It’s not just a place to maintain old traditions or to hide from the problems of the world. When there is intention, the church can be a source of moral leadership in a world that often feels like it is lacking that kind of strength. It can be a gathering place for like-minded individuals to address community problems and pool their collective resources. It can be a place where people are educated, equipped, and mobilized to be agents of a Gospel that means healing for all that God has made. As we celebrate Pentecost this year, we recognize that the Holy Spirit is still moving through local congregations across this country and compelling them to care for God’s planet and people. We hope, pray, and work to see more churches become places of transformative leadership that bring healing and wholeness to God’s world. ​

Creation Justice Ministries stands in solidarity with the Indigenous communities, local residents, and the millions of visitors who look to the Boundary Waters for recreation, reflection, and renewal. Our faith compels us to resist policies that prioritize industrial exploitation over the health of the land and its people.
​
We urge the administration and our leaders in Congress to remember that ecological integrity and justice should be a top priority in making any policy decision. The journey to protecting the Boundary Waters is not over. We will continue to mobilize our communities of faith to defend this national treasure and to demand policies that reflect our deepest values of stewardship, justice, and love for all of God’s creation.

For questions: Contact Madison Mayhew, Policy and Advocacy Manager: [email protected] ​

​Lent invites us into a season of stripping away (or intentionally taking on something)— of examining what we carry, what we consume, and what we put into the world. For those of us who work in communications, this season holds a particular mirror up to our craft.

We live in an era of constant input and output. Emails, posts, announcements, campaigns,...then more emails, posts, etc. Words are produced at volume and often at speed. It is easy, in this work, to become fluent in noise...and accustomed to it. I speak for myself, but imagine it's similar for a lot of us, when I say silence has begun to feel uncomfortable for me. The world is so loud yet I find myself being anxious in silence. So I fill it.

Whether it's filled with background noise, my voice or others the silence doesn't last long. In a world where doing nothing often feels like the greatest sin, I find myself filling the silence with whatever words I can find...because it at least looks like I'm doing something...and something is better than not doing anything.

But Lent has invited me to find a different perspective: Whether in work or in my personal life, are the words I'm communicating with, being used with intention or just the drive to once again fill up the silence? What is the purpose of me communicating?

Most of the time, I communicate to exchange information. But that can't be all it is for. If not, then what is it for?

What is communicating inviting us to participate in other than exchanging information? Perhaps to understand? And if to understand is the purpose, then perhaps we need to spend more time on one thing with more intentionality.

This isn't a new concept to me, and probably not to most of us. But how many of us actually put this into practice? Admittedly, as soon as I cross one thing off my list, I tend to add 3 more in its place. All of which I want to start immediately.

Lent's invitation, perhaps to more than just myself, involves taking time to slow down, embrace the lingering silence and when that silence bleeds into noise to do so intentionally. Maybe that looks like taking out your earbuds on during your commute one morning? Perhaps it looks like taking a break during the work day, to go outside and see if you can find one of your neighborhood's native birds? Maybe it's just waking up and not immediately entering the noise of life, but just holding onto to the silence for an extra few minutes.

May this season be a personal invitation to embrace the silence — even just for a moment. To linger a little longer before filling it. And when words do come, to let them be chosen, not just reached for.

Soon afterward he went on through one town and village after another, proclaiming and bringing the good news of the kingdom of God. The twelve were with him,  as well as some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities: Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out,  and Joanna, the wife of Herod’s steward Chuza, and Susanna, and many others, who ministered to them[a] out of their own resources.
​(Luke 8: 1-3, NRSVUE) ​

Lent is a season for reflection, an invitation to examine the brokenness around us while also encouraging us to expand our imagination of what’s possible. Right now, many of us are grieving the broken state of politics in the United States and how the decisions of a few are causing immense harm to many. 

This Lenten season, we lament the layers of harm being inflicted upon our neighbors and Creation. We bear witness to the ways in which public health is now endangered due to rollbacks of regulations that hold polluters accountable. We bear witness and we lament the attacks to sacred grounds like the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, home to the Gwich'in people, and Oak Flat, sacred grounds for the Western Apache peoples. We bear witness and lament the harms towards precious species, who are at risk of becoming endangered and the loss of those who have crossed the threshold of non-recovery. 

This Lenten season, may we also recognize the moral urgency of confronting the escalating terror inflicted upon immigrant communities and people across the country. Our ability to build a future in which Creation can flourish depends on a strong and healthy democracy, one that upholds the rule of law, protects our First Amendment rights, and ensures free and fair elections. These systems are not merely political structures; they are instruments through which we are called to pursue the common good and safeguard the dignity of all.

Beyond the invitation to grieve and lament, lent is also an invitation to expand our imaginations. Faith communities play a critical role in not only resisting these harms, but calling for and building a new world together. Many faith communities are already leading the way, whether by holding their lawmakers accountable through advocacy, standing alongside their neighbors being attacked in the streets, establishing mutual aid or supporting existing structures, and installing clean infrastructure. 

For people of faith, social justice and creation care are inseparable. When human lives are devalued, Creation itself is wounded. When fear and violence are normalized, our shared home suffers. The Lenten journey is an annual reminder of death, resurrection, and the hope of renewal, mirroring the rhythms of the natural world. In the face of overwhelming harm to Creation, the message of Easter offers hope that transformation and rebirth are within reach.This Lenten season, may we be reminded of the power of community and the hope that can be found in building a transformative way forward—one that honors Creation, protects the vulnerable, and sets a course toward renewed life.

Madison Mayhew 
Policy & Advocacy Manager
Creation Justice Ministries​

The temptation when one is walking through a forest is to look up. The beauty of the canopy, the song of birds, and the sunlight peeking through the overstory draw our attention. Recent science has brought our attention to the networks being formed under the surface. Roots and mycelia interplay in this wonderful system of connection that allows trees to communicate and even care for each other. These discoveries have left us as enamored with what we don’t as we are by sights that tower above us. And yet,  when we look down, we see death and decay.  Broken limbs, dead leaves, and layers of rot aided by fungi and insects. The grandeur of the forest is firmly planted in a sea of decomposition. In fact, the forest only exists because this layer of dead stuff supports it. 

The Lenten journey draws us into a portion of the story that we would rather forget: death is an essential part of life. If there is ever to be growth it is the dead things that support the roots and provide the needed nourishment that allows for the future beauty. Death is a part of life, whether we want to see it or not. When we speak of protecting Creation, it is from those forms of death that invade the more than human world because of our own arrogance and greed, not the natural cycles of life of death that move Creation forward. Creation understands death as an inevitability, but not an ending. 

Lent begins with a reminder of our own inevitable endings. In that reminder is a charge to live with purpose, conviction, and courage, to not waste the beautiful fragile lives we’ve been given.  Also embedded in that reminder is an insistence that we in fact let go of those things in our lives that need to die; attitudes, habits, prejudices, and wrongly placed values that impede our experience of the abundant life Christ desires for us. 

We see so much needless death in our world that we often forget that death is a part of God’s plan for us and the other members of Creation. Lent draws us back into the beautiful reminder that death creates the conditions for new life. As we spread the ashes reminding us of our mortality, let us do so with an eye toward letting go of those things that need to be released in hopes that they may the fertile soil of the new world to come. 
​

In past years, we created an “Earth Day resource”, using the day as an occasion to bring specific issues into focus. And while we still hope that you’ll highlight the importance of Creation Justice on Earth day, we also hope that you won’t stop there. We want this to be an evergreen resource (see what I did there?) that can be used year round and in future years.

There is a lot in this world that is uncertain right now. One thing we can say for certain is that if we want to live in a world where everyone has access to all of the benefits that trees provide then we have to begin that work right now, even as we balance the competing needs of the day. Planting trees with an uncertain future is an act of faith. Planting trees in a time of despair is an act of hope. Planting trees that all can enjoy is an act of love. We hope you’ll join us both in resisting the injustices of the present and planting the just world we dream to build. ​