Wednesday, June 29, 2022

Divine Statistics

 

Co-Creators

“God did not create this world for us. God created us for this world—as stewards.”

Jerry Wright

          As you know, I’m fascinated by statistics. Now and then, I try to imagine what earth was like before humans became (more or less) civilized. As Jerry Wright said in his lecture for Friends of Jung-South, for the first 50,000 years of human existence, we were wildlife. About 20,000 years ago, as part of the great migration out of Africa, humans crossed over the land bridge from what is now China to what is now America. We have only been “civilized” for about 500 generations. To carry that one step further, civilization as we know it began about 6,000 years ago, and industrialization only began in earnest in the 1800’s. In two hundred years, we’ve gone from horse and plow to the International Space Station, and so more. I’m saying all that to say this: We are perfectly capable of being the stewards we were put here to be.

          I live in a brick house on a small plot of ground—not even and acre—in the hot part of the US. Once a year, I pay someone to come cut back all the bushes and vines that are trying to take over my house. This year, because of abundant rainfall, it will need to be twice. I try to steward the part of the earth that is my temporary abode. When I’m gone, I’m sure someone else will do the same, and do it much better than I. I understand it is my responsibility to take care of this piece of earth because for the moment, it belongs to me. What we collectively don’t grasp is that it is our responsibility to take care of the rest of the earth, too.

          I happen to believe that Creation is the same thing as God. While I still tend to speak of God in the archaic and gender-based language of the Christian Church, I don’t think of the sacred as a superhuman being with special powers. For me, there is nothing in creation that is not “God” or “life-force.” All of creation is pulsing with life—with God. I walked out on my porch last night about 9 o’clock. The sound of nightlife was intense—crickets, cicadas, and tree frogs, thrumming and drumming. Down the hill, in Avondale, music played, and voices yelled above it. A train passed by, blowing its horn. A firetruck pulled out of the station four blocks away with siren blaring. From the ballpark downtown, fireworks rocked the night. Life is loud. It’s a breathing reality and we get to be part of it for a while.

          We are coming up on July 4th—Independence Day. America is not in a very celebratory mood. But, just for this weekend, let’s be like our armies during World War II, lay down our heavy artillery and be simply brothers and sisters in love with life. We’re here and we’re breathing, and we represent all the billions of humans and almost-humans who have ever lived—those who walked for years to get across a frozen land-bridge and found this amazing continent so long ago. And those who sailed across oceans for a new chance at life. Surely, we can, for one weekend, unite in celebration and appreciation of them.

                                                  In the Spirit,

                                                  Jane

No comments: