Delivered on April 2 at the Chapel of the Evangel Fellowship in Silliman University.
No, this is not a belated April Fool’s joke. I really am the “preacher” today.
To be honest, I was quite surprised myself when, after my sister Joanna jokingly told me that I would be better suited to be today’s preacher, I almost immediately volunteered to take her place.
You see, I’ve successfully avoided this task for so many years. But something stirred in me to take this responsibility, so here I am. I hope I can live up to your expectations.
When I realized that there was no theme or topic in the UCCP Calendar for today, I settled on talking about environmentalism since that’s one field that I’m well-versed in and because later this month, we will be celebrating Earth Day on April 22.
However, as I was going over my talking points, I realized that much of what I had been doing as a conservation biologist and environment advocate drew parallels to the Christian mission of service. Thus, the title of my sermon.
This was a reassuring realization because oftentimes, I forget that I am a Christian in the sense that I don’t go to church service or read my Bible as often as I should. This is particularly difficult to do when I’m on fieldwork because of our hectic and tiring work schedule. And when I am in Dumaguete, I am typically not a morning person, hence, also my absence from CEF service, most Sundays of the year.
With this in mind, it is easy to see why there is a common misconception that scientists are atheists. Some are. But when I am surrounded by nature, I am always reminded of an excerpt from the essay The Fish written by my former English professor Timothy Montes.
In the essay, the characters Ernie and Professor Reyes are mesmerized by the boulders of rock jutting out from the depths of Apo Island’s coast. The professor says, “Look at those rocks, Ernie…Makes me want to go back to church. Only God could have molded those rocks,” to which Ernie replies, “No, Professor Reyes. The sea — the waves — formed those island rocks. The whole world’s God’s cathedral. Most people just don’t know they’re churchgoing everyday of their lives.”
It always makes me smile to think that God did not just create the beautiful rock formations but also the waves and the sea that shaped them. I imagine God’s fingerprints are all over the natural world.
This point is evident in various biblical texts such as in Job chapter 12, verses 7 to 10 (NIV): 7But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds of the air, and they will tell you; 8or speak to the earth, and it will teach you, or let the fish of the sea inform you. 9Which of all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this? 10In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.
Later in Chapter 38 of the book, God reminds Job of His immense power by asking Job a series of questions pertaining to His creations. Although a lot of things that exist and phenomena that occur can be now be explained through science, I still find the story of Job relevant. Humans cannot know everything. Too often, answers to questions lead to more questions.
In Job chapter 38 verse 18, God asks Job, “Have you comprehended the vast expanses of the earth? Tell me, if you know all this.”
To this day, this question cannot be answered by man. In fact, only less than five percent of the world’s oceans have been explored.
Another example is in the case of sharks and rays — which is what I specialize in: there may be close to 200 species found in the Philippines, yet only 59 percent of these have been confirmed present, while 23 percent are believed to be undescribed or new to science — new to science, but not to God.
And while some Christians would find the constant pursuit of knowledge a product of man’s pride, as a Christian scientist I merely take it as an opportunity to know God better, whereby every new discovery is like finding out God has a new superpower.
Now, I may not be a devoted churchgoer but I find God in almost everything around me.
“The whole world’s God’s cathedral” said Ernie, and he was right.
God is in every captivating flower, in the dirt from which trees sprout from, in the sky that brings rain, and in the intricate design of animal anatomies that have helped species survive for millennia. The acknowledgement of God’s omnipresence in our natural environment is, to me, the first step to becoming a Christian environmentalist. How can we be stewards of God’s creations if we don’t understand, or appreciate them? This recognition is also crucial to bridging the gap between environmental stewardship and Christian service.
When we seek to uphold environmental stewardship, we are also fulfilling the Christian mission of service to others, most especially, service to the least of our brethren. In the face of environmental problems — the greatest being climate change — it is always the poor and marginalized who stand to lose the most.
In my 13 years of conservation work in the Philippines, I’ve often had to engage with farmers and small-scale fishermen in remote villages. Their stories are similar. Times are changing. There are less fishes to catch. There is less water to grow crops. More frequently, crops are destroyed or fishing days are lost to stronger storms. The government doesn’t seem to care, and societies in general forget that they are the ones who produce the food we all eat.
Most of them seem to live in a wilderness akin to that which the Israelites endured after escaping from Egypt — a metaphorical wilderness for years of hardship. But despite all these hardships — no matter how harsh the conditions — nature always provides us with our basic needs: clean air, clean water, food, medicine, and shelter. Thus, when we care for the environment, we indirectly care for these peoples’ well-being.
When we begin to understand the many low-cost benefits that are afforded to us by nature, we might begin to see the divine providence of God’s design. God created all the world’s diverse life forms — or biodiversity — to work in such a way that when they interact with each other and with non-living components such as air, water and soil, the result is an enduring source of our basic needs.
God’s divine providence is exemplified in the second text, Romans chapter 8 verse 28: And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
This text is conventionally used to encourage our faithfulness to Him: if we are faithful to God, He will provide for our needs.
But another way to view this is that regardless of our faithfulness to Him, God works providentially to bring all things together for good, for each of us, according to His purpose.
From an environmental perspective, we can understand this in the way his creations are interconnected and interrelated. God created all these components of nature to work together in a complex, inter-dependent manner so that our very survival could be ensured, and perhaps, so that we can continue to work towards the path of Christian service — whether as medical practitioners, academics, industry workers, or whatever professional field you choose to engage in.
Why is it that nature calls to us? When we think of vacationing, we tend to seek comfort and serenity close to the sea or the mountain. There is a scientific explanation for this which I won’t explain here. But what if there was a spiritual reason for it?
In the Bible, we often see God communicating with instrumental characters while in the natural environment: to Moses on a mountain, to Job in a storm, to Elijah in a cave, even to Jesus in a garden.
To love God, we must love the great wild places where He dwells. We must love and care for all that He has created for our good. For it is often in the quiet of the natural wilderness that we hear God’s voice the loudest. We just need to stop and listen.
In nature, we find peace and rejuvenation. If we’re lucky, we find clarity and purpose.
And if you don’t hear God talking, don’t worry — perhaps, you’re just supposed to enjoy the view.
