21st October 2000
Pastoral Letter on the Environment
My dear Brothers and Sisters,

In this Pastoral Letter, I would like to address an issue considered by many to be the most crucial problem of our time: the rampant and, often irreversible, destruction of God's creation.

We are constantly confronted by the environmental damage we have done: global warming; rising sea levels; inadequate and harmful waste management; the rapid depletion of the ozone layer; soil erosion; acid rain and greenhouse gases. Yet, amid this all too familiar litany of destruction, I believe there are signs of hope.

My hope comes from the work of the millions of people throughout the world who transcend religious, cultural and political divisions in their efforts to care for our planet. I feel hope and pride in the work being done this weekend in our Diocese as we join with the Hunter Region Landcare Network to "Restore the Earth".

As Australians, we can learn much from our Indigenous brothers and sisters about a worldview in which humans are "at one" with the land.

Indigenous woman, Maisie Cavanagh, eloquently expresses the interconnectedness of the land and her people.

"My Mother’s land can be dry and harsh. Yet every tree, every cluster of rocks, mountain, water hole, river, cave is sacred – every feature. The billabongs and the places where the spirits live are all landscapes of the soul. For we as people see these mountains, rivers, trees, animals, wind, as brothers and sisters, and we are part of the one thing.

"Thinking in these terms pitches you into a different psychology. So we take notice of the call of the black crow, or the laugh of the kookaburra, or the change in the wind. We pay attention to the willy-wagtail when he comes to visit, or the magpie who sits on the clothes line even here in the hustle and bustle of city life". (Miriam Rose Ungunmerr-Baumann and Frank Brennan Reverencing the Earth in the Australian Dreaming)

This year of Great Jubilee is a pertinent time for us to reflect on our relationship with the environment. In the tradition of Jubilee, the Hebrew peoples saw themselves as stewards and custodians of the land, and allowed it to "Lie Fallow". This is the origin of resting the land and ourselves on the Sabbath.

In Genesis, God is described as both working and resting and thereby setting the pattern for all humans and their relations to land and animals in the covenant of creation. This pattern of work and rest is set through a series of concentric cycles: of seven days, seven years and seven times seven years.

On the seventh day of each week, the farmer and his human and animal workforce are to rest.

Every seven years, we are told in the Book of Exodus, attention is given to the rights of the poor, to wild animals and to the renewal of the land. "For six years you shall sow your land and gather its yield; but the seventh year let it lie fallow, so the poor of your people may eat, and what they leave the wild animals may eat. You shall do the same with your vineyard and your olive orchard" (Exodus 23:12).

Finally, in the Jubilee Year (the fiftieth year) there is to be a great restoration of all relationships. Those who have lost their land, through debt, are to be restored to their former property. Debts are to be forgiven, and captives freed. The earth is to lie fallow, and animals and humans are to rest. All the accumulated inequities of the past seven times seven years are to be rectified. All is to be restored to right balance.

In the New Testament, we learn that Jesus grew up in a rural environment and had a strong connection with God's creatures and the processes of nature. His birth occurred in the midst of the natural world: among the sounds and smells of animals in a stable. In his adult life, much of his teaching ministry took place in the outdoors.

In Matthew's gospel, the beatitudes and subsequent teachings happened on a mountain.

Jesus made rich use of natural experiences and imagery in his teachings and parables: sowing seed, vines, shepherds and sheep, lilies of the field and birds of the air.

Jesus also illustrates for us that the natural environment can be a powerful arena for deep spiritual reflection and discernment. It was while he was living in the desert that Jesus came to accept and appreciate the messianic ministry he was about to embrace. Throughout his ministry, he regularly returned to the hills to pray and commune with his Father; especially before making important decisions like choosing the disciples.

We see, in Jesus, a champion of restoration, re-creation, re-formation and transformation of the universe. In him, we are invited to take a new look at the earth. With him, we are called to commit ourselves to its protection. Through him, we are empowered to work for its sustainability and welfare. For him, we are challenged to accept and experience its sacredness.

We learn from Indigenous cultures and the Scriptures that, as stewards and trustees of the earth, it is our duty to work towards a just relationship with our environment: to sustain, safeguard and salvage it for future generations.

As members of the Body of Christ, our pastoral care cannot merely include people, but must extend to the animals, trees, flowers, parks, oceans and air. Our concern for God’s love for the whole cosmos should be expressed in our spirituality – our way of life, prayers, liturgical celebration, approach and attitude to the environment.

I am hopeful that, as we come to more fully understand our Christian mission to the entire planet, we will take greater responsibility for, and delight in, the wonderous God-given gift of our creation.

With love,

Most Reverend Michael Malone
Bishop of Maitland-Newcastle

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