Week 4: Called to Service in the Universal Body of Christ

On a warm afternoon last week, I was walking my dog, Hurley, on the beach at Isle of Palms. Since tourist season is now over, dogs can be off leash during certain hours, and Hurley was running free a few feet ahead of me, sniffing everything in his path. Suddenly, I saw what he was just about to put his nose on and yelled, "Hurley, leave it!" Like the (usually) obedient dog that he is, Hurley looked at me and stepped away from the object he now saw as forbidden -- a dead jellyfish washed up on the beach. I encouraged my dog to follow me in a wide path around the potential stinger and we kept going. But as we walked, I found myself continuing to think about the jellyfish. What is the purpose of such a creature? I wondered. How does it fit into God's dream for the world? That is when I realized that this book has really gotten to me! A few weeks ago, I wouldn't have given a second thought to whether or not God cared about a jellyfish. After all, it is a literally brainless blob, and its defining characteristic is its ability to cause other creatures pain. Why give it a theological thought?

But after reading this week's lessons from Epperly's Holy Adventure, I can't help but reflect theologically on the jellyfish and its place in God's universe. Epperly points to Romans chapter 8, in which we read:

"For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies." (Rom. 8:19-23)

Was this jellyfish in its own way a participant in this longing for a different kind of world, a world that we humans are supposed to help create? Did it somehow do its part in the groaning of labor pains to help birth that new world? The verses following these tell us that when we do not know how to pray, the Holy Spirit intercedes for us with wordless prayers -- sighs or groans, depending on your translation. Did the jellyfish, in its unique jellyfish fashion, actually pray? This was a lot of heavy stuff to think about during a stroll on the beach! I believe that to all these questions, Epperly would respond affirmatively. He challenges us on day 22 to "commit yourself to experiencing the wonder of life in the nonhuman and the human world in new and different ways. Recognize holiness in your animal companions. Watch documentaries about nondomestic creatures. Make a commitment to see every creature as a revelation of God." (pg. 125) It is easy for me to recognize holiness in my dog. Hurley teaches me a lot about God's unconditional love, forgiveness, and delight in us. But to see the revelation of God in a slimy jellyfish? I think for most of us, that is a stretch!

Yet it is a stretch Epperly invites us to take. He reminds us of Paul's vision of the body of Christ in 1 Corinthians chapter 12, in which every part is connected, even the smallest parts are important to the whole, and those parts which may seem most insignificant (or most disgusting) are vital for survival. Lest we humans think too highly of ourselves, Epperly gives us a more balanced view of our place in the cosmos. "Your existence is essential to the well-being of the body of Christ, but so are the existence of plankton, Amazon rain forests, and companion animals or pets and the swirling of galaxies and revolving of planets." (pg. 127) We do matter immensely to God. But we are not the only ones. Matthew 10:29 gives us Jesus's famous teaching on seemingly common sparrows, which can be translated as, "not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father." I couldn't help thinking that day on the beach that perhaps this was true even for the jellyfish -- that it did not die alone there on the sand, but was never apart from God. It was a comforting thought, because if that is true for the jellyfish, it seems safe to say the same for us. So, astonishingly, I did see the revelation of God even in a jellyfish.

This goes hand in hand with one of Epperly's key ideas. The theological word for the concept is panentheism, "the affirmation that God is present in all things, and all things are present in God. Panentheism is to be distinguished from pantheism, which asserts that God and the world are one and the same reality. . . At the the heart of panentheism is the affirmation that God is as near as your next breath and the next person you meet on the street. All moments reveal God, and all actions live eternally within God's experience of the world." (pg. 129) Would you consider yourself a panentheist? How would a panentheistic worldview change the way one interacted with the rest of creation?

Talk of panentheism may sound like heresy to some of us. The idea of nonhuman elements of creation being a means of God's revelation and a part of God's redemption dream can seem radically new. But, Epperly points out, the idea is rooted in scripture, as "the biblical tradition is profoundly creation-affirming. Salvation is not just about humankind and its relationship to God, but encompasses the whole planet. . . The universe is the birthing room of divine creativity, and all creation lives in hope of actualizing its role in a community that embraces God and all creatures." (pgs. 137-138) This may be a very different way of thinking about familiar concepts. What does salvation look like for a jellyfish or a dog? I don't know. But then, if I'm honest, I'm still figuring out what it looks like for a human, too. What do we need to be saved from? Is it only eternal punishment in hell to which we are referring? Surely not. On a day by day and moment by moment basis, we all, in various ways, pray for salvation from many things -- illness, loneliness, depression, anger, failure, fear, pain, hunger, danger, and more. In this, we humans are not alone, and Epperly seems to agree with me that perhaps even jellyfish pray. "God hears all cries and wordless prayers for mercy and relief, whether they come from hungry children, abandoned animals, or persons marginalized because of race, gender, or sexual orientation." (pg. 139)

Taking notice of the natural world around us can help reconnect us with God and remind us of our own symbiotic relationship with the rest of creation. We need the trees and soil and water and insects and animals and all, just as they need us. And every one of us is likewise dependent on God. It is all too easy for us "self-sufficient" humans to forget this. Spending time observing the workings of the cosmos can be just the reminder we need. "The faithful day-to-day rising and setting of the sun do not require our strategic planning, 'best practices,' or purpose drivenness. The ever-present fidelity of God invites us to nurture graceful playfulness even as we seek to bring healing and justice to the earth." (pg. 142)

We can learn from the sun, the sparrows, the dogs, and yes, the jellyfish. All of us are on this adventure together, alongside the God who provides for us every one. Watching Hurley on the beach is delightful because he is completely carefree. He trusts me to warn him of dangers like the jellyfish, and so he runs joyfully along the water's edge, exploring every new thing he finds, tail and tongue wagging. Periodically, he looks back at me, taking a playful stance that invites me to join him in his blissful gallop. When I do, I may be joining him in worship unawares. Epperly says that "we praise God best by rejoicing in our lives and sharing our joy of life through acts of generosity, kindness, and hospitality. . . We praise God by being fully alive to the beauty and wonder of our unique and precious life and the uniqueness and wonder of all things." (pg. 144) May we live fully this week, aware of our place in this interconnected community, this web of creation, the body of Christ.

Here are some of Epperly's affirmations for this week. If you wish, choose one or two to repeat to yourself as you go about your day, and see how it may help center you in God.

My calling is to be God's partner in healing the world.

I honor God's Spirit in the nonhuman as well as human communities.

My gifts bring healing to my human and nonhuman companions.

My gifts bring healing to (a particular animal or human).

All persons are my neighbors.

I reach out in love to both strangers and enemies.

In Christ, I am joined with all creation.

My well-being and the well-being of the planet are one.

I experience God in the voices of the earth.

I listen for God in the pain and beauty of the nonhuman world.

I experience wonder and beauty everywhere I look.

I trust God's care in all things.

I breathe joy with all creation.

I laugh with God at life's hilarity.

It is my hope that these affirmations will be meaningful for you this week. Here are some questions to think about and respond to in the comments below:

• 
  Where do you experience beauty?
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  Do you think the nonhuman world shares in God's aim at wholeness and salvation? How should we weigh our care for humans in relationship to our care for the nonhuman world?
• 
  In what ways are we called to live simply so that others -- including the nonhuman world -- can simply live?
• 
  How often do you take a "beauty break"? In what ways does the appreciation of the beauty of creation transform your daily life?

Lastly, I wanted to share a link to this beautiful video. It served as our closing prayer in class. The images are from the BBC/Discovery Channel docuseries "Life," and the song is called simply "The Prayer." (The subtitles are in Portuguese, but the lyrics are in English.) Enjoy this glimpse into the beauty of the nonhuman world.

"Life"/"The Prayer"