More Than Thoughts and Prayers: How to Love Your Neighbour During the Climate Crisis
Elise and Olivia (on the right) with their friends from Generation Zero at a policy submission-writing event in 2019.
Within the last week, global leaders, civil servants and climate activists have congregated for the 2021 United Nations Climate Change Conference (COP26) to drive action towards climate change. Climate change, like COP26, might seem “too distant” or “too political” for Christians to care about, but Elise Ranck and Olivia Yates think that Jesus would disagree.
Two years ago, the cries of 170,000 people from all backgrounds filled the streets of cities across Aotearoa with a call to action. “What do we want?” “Climate Justice!” “When do we want it?” “Now!” Climate justice recognises that the climate crisis is a social, political and environmental issue, which unequally affects communities around the world. Diverse voices are loudly calling for changes to keep warming to 1.5 degrees, essential for our human and non-human neighbours to continue to thrive (according to a recent IPCC report). Yet, during our time in the climate action space and as members of Karakia for our Climate (K4OC), we have found the voice of the church to be remarkably silent. As COP is now underway, we argue that the church needs to strengthen its voice in the climate space.
We Christians tend to quietly love our neighbours from arms’ length. We often seek to love our neighbours - the poor, the orphan, the widow, the foreigner, those forgotten by society - through well-meaning and supposedly “apolitical” actions, quick to donate money or offer “thoughts and prayers.” Not only do many of these acts come across as condescending; they tend to accept inequality (rather than confronting it) and can quickly become transactional rather than relational. Many of us believe we should “stay out of politics”, assuming that laws and regulations are external to people’s suffering. This is made easier because we often do not know personally those that we seek to serve, allowing us to love at great distance.
Many Christians show the same distanced neighbour-love when we engage with the climate-crisis. Climate change will disproportionately impact tangata whenua, people living in proximity to coal plants, people with disabilities, Pacific peoples, children, women, LGBT+ folks; all those living under the feet of colonialism or in exposed geographical locations. As relatively affluent, urban, Pãkehã women, we are likely to be less impacted than most of our global neighbours. Nonetheless, we are bound in solidarity with our friends on the frontlines, who are all too aware that their lives and livelihoods are threatened by unjust policies and lacklustre climate ambition. However, many Christians do not have a relational connection to people belonging to these groups. As a result, climate-related suffering is easily ignored, or addressed through simple thoughts and prayers rather than getting out onto the street.
Neighbour-Love Up Close
Unlike us, Jesus does not passively wait for the answers to thoughts and prayers—he gets active. The concerns of the people are his concerns. Jesus recognises the reality of years and years of grossly embedded power dynamics that have further disabled the vulnerable from taking a stand. And despite being one man up against an oppressive empire, he takes every opportunity to meet the marginalised face-to-face to bring healing and restoration through shedding light on their loveableness and inherent goodness. In his ministry, he takes the small and slow approach, giving love and compassion to all he meets. Jesus beckons us, too, to join him so that we can understand their suffering and the dire need for an equitable and harmonious world. As Dorothy Day writes, “Compassion—it is a word meaning to suffer with. If we all carry a little of the burden, it will be lightened.”
If we take a close look, the reality of Jesus’ time is not much different from the current climate crisis. Injustice and indifference remain as prolific as ever. Planet earth, our home, is being ransacked by corrupt governments and greedy, corporate elites who would rather count their pennies than protect the rights of the vulnerable. And like the religious leaders of Jesus’ time, many of us are too caught up in the demands of our personal lives or feel too exhausted, powerless, or fearful to help another in need.
Yet, meaningful neighbour-love during the climate crisis calls us to pursue relationships with the vulnerable. Day again puts it bluntly: “You love God as much as you love the least.” Can the church fully love God if we are not in touch with “the least” in our world; if we do not know and care for those on the frontlines of the climate crises? God-honouring neighbour-love is unlikely until we exit the whizzing whirlwind of indifference to enter into empathetic relationships on the ground. These genuine relationships then compel us to work together to transform the injustice of climate change
Turning to face those on the frontlines brings the perceived ‘future’ climate crisis in the present moment. The privilege of those distant from the climate crisis walls us up from seeing, much less interacting, with our suffering neighbours. Meanwhile, some people are already seeking safety from extreme weather events and rising sea levels. By leaning into these stories, we see that climate change is here and now and that the impacts will be fatal and enduring for the generations to come. Our sense of responsibility is heightened and our attachment deepens as we remember the fragile web of relationships on earth, human and non-human: a loss of a forest is not only a loss of many wonderfully created species but also a loss of indispensable resources for human flourishing. With this awareness, we see that we cannot remain passive, but need to act now, fast and sacrificially to “love the least.” Sacrifice—beyond recycling and Keep Cups—is an act of the present, not the future, and is inherent to our call to uplift the vulnerable and suffering.
And Jesus Said, “Get Political, Y’all”
Jesus was unafraid of sacrifice to confront oppressive socio-political structures of his time, so neither should we be. Our table-flipping saviour invites us to join with him in collective action for a flourishing future for all creation. Collective action works at two levels. First, it ensures that our neighbours who are excluded by law from accessing important resources can live with peace and well-being, and justice. For instance, people who migrate for climate-related reasons currently have no legal way to seek safety in another country, so many must follow informal or precarious informal routes to avoid climate threats. Advocating for a climate visa can change that.
“Yet, meaningful neighbour-love during the climate crisis calls us to pursue relationships with the vulnerable … Sacrifice—beyond recycling and Keep Cups—is an act of the present, not the future, and is inherent to our call to uplift the vulnerable and suffering.”
Second, through collective action, we can push for our leaders to create climate policies which reflect the scale of change needed to confront climate change. Keeping warming within 1.5 degrees is feasible but only if all countries commit to ambitious climate policies. However, New Zealand’s emissions reductions targets have been deemed “highly insufficient” by global standards (see: Climate Action Tracker), and are a far cry from our “fair share” on the grounds of equity, according to Oxfam. By coming together with others who are already acting, we can remind our leaders that they can and simply must do better.
Ultimately, loving our neighbours requires us to show up; to add our voices to theirs and echo their demands for climate justice. This requires tangible action, of which we offer a few suggestions. You can sign petitions (for example: this one which calls for the ban of new fossil fuel permits in Taranaki), join the next climate protest (date: TBC), follow climate justice groups on the social media (check out: Te Ara Whatu, 350Pacific, 350Aotearoa, Generation Zero, or SustainedAbility), donate to climate justice groups, and write submissions on climate and social policies (try: the Emissions Reductions Plan or the Pacific Languages Strategy). For local spaces which connect climate justice and faith, follow Karakia for our Climate and join our prayer vigils for COP26, A Rocha NZ, or EcoChurch. For global networks, check out Climate Intercessors or EdenVigil.
Importantly, we must also remind ourselves that we, as Christians, hold the hope for the death of all sin and suffering and its resurrection into new life. It is unproductive and unnecessary to absorb responsibility for the renewal of the whole earth; it is not our burden to carry. Rather, let us use hope as a springboard into collective action. Hope, however small, can bring a glimpse into God’s kingdom of justice and peace, and each glimpse will grow our hope for what is to come in full. As one of our wise friends Matthew Baird once said “Every small act of reconciliation is of infinite worth as it gets caught up in the wake of Jesus’ path of restoration.”
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When Christians think about climate change, it can be a tricky space. We recognise that we need laws which guide people towards a flourishing future, but we don’t put all our hope in that. We also look towards the restoration of creation, for God’s Kingdom to come. Yet, while God is changing hearts, we can change laws to ensure that all of creation—our human and non-human neighbours—can live with peace and harmony. So, we open our eyes to a new vision and add our voices to the rising cry: “What do we want?” Climate justice! “And how do we want it?” Through relational and political neighbourly love.
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Elise and Olivia are members of Karakia for our Climate, a faith-based climate prayer group who are hosting prayer vigils during COP26 (31st October - 12th November). Elise is member at Anglican Advocacy Wellington. Olivia is a PhD student working on the psychology of climate mobility at the University of Auckland.