“Let the fern unfurl your grieving”
I’m currently one of 16 ‘church leader’ participants on a course run by Green Christian called “Cloud and Fire”. Its subtitle is “rediscovering ministry for an age of climate breakdown” which gives some indication of its ruthlessly honest approach, its determination to look at the unravelling of our natural world in as unblinkered a way as we can bear, and the questions for which it offers safe space, questions such as these:
How might faith and ministry need to adapt in the shadow of catastrophe?
Do particular scriptural narratives and doctrinal ideas come more to the fore in this age of existential risk - the Exodus event for example? The Cross?
How do I preach honestly about the risks we face?
What new pastoral and liturgical responses do people need?
Where can hope be found?
As long ago as 2018, Greta Thunberg said this: “We already have all the facts and solutions. All we have to do is to wake up and change.” The terrifying fact that governments and the likes of colossal oil companies, along with us individuals, are so slow to ‘wake up and change’ is addressed by Gus Speth in these searing words:-
“I used to think that the top global environmental problems were climate change, ecosystem collapse and biodiversity loss. I thought that with 30 years of good science we could address these problems but I was wrong. The top environmental problems are selfishness, greed and apathy and to deal with these we need a spiritual and cultural transformation.”
Gus Speth
American environmental lawyer & advocate
One source of hope for me lies in the spirited, determined, inspiring action of others. Action can take so many forms and by so many different groups. One group which steadily, gently nibbles away at our tendency to the ‘apathy’ of which Gus Speth speaks is that of artists who reflect the environmental crisis in their work. Ever since the publication of The Lost Words – spell-binding poems by Robert MacFarlane accompanied by the exquisite painting of Jackie Morris – I have, for instance, been drawn again and again, to Spell Songs, a musical response to The Lost Words by a wonderful group who call themselves “Folk by the Oak”. One beautiful, desolate phrase from their Lost Words Blessing (below) gives this reflection its heading. It is one that pierces me every time I hear it. I wonder which phrases in the verses below do that to you…. You can listen to it being sung here:
Enter the wild with care, my love
And speak the things you see
Let new names take and root and thrive and grow
And even as you travel far from heather, crag and river
May you like the little fisher, set the stream alight with glitter
May you enter now as otter without falter into water
Look to the sky with care, my love
And speak the things you see
Let new names take and root and thrive and grow
And even as you journey on past dying stars exploding
Like the gilded one in flight, leave your little gifts of light
And in the dead of night my darling,
find the gleaming eye of starling
Like the little aviator, sing your heart to all dark matter
Walk through the world with care, my love
And sing the things you see
Let new names take and root and thrive and grow
And even as you stumble through machair sands eroding
Let the fern unfurl your grieving, let the heron still your breathing
Let the selkie swim you deeper, oh my little silver-seeker
Even as the hour grows bleaker, be the singer and the speaker
And in city and in forest, let the larks become your chorus
And when every hope is gone, let the raven call you home
