- Micah Peters Unrau

In these latter weeks of spring I’ve been drinking in the splendour unfolding around my neighbourhood: trees explode in buds and blossoms; choruses of birdsong fill the air; snails and worms come out to greet the rain. “How many are your works, Lord! In wisdom you made them all,” says Psalm 104. Though technologies increasingly keep us indoors and global politics have been drowning out environmental concerns, God’s creatures continue to invite our delight and care, especially at this time of year.  

The collective church is exploring how our conduct on the earth can reflect the kindness of God, its only true and eternal owner, and respect our creaturely limitations.

In a growing number of congregations, responding to this invitation is more than an optional add-on to the Christian life. The collective church is exploring how our conduct on the earth can reflect the kindness of God, its only true and eternal owner, and respect our creaturely limitations. As it turns out, reclaiming a humble, caring attitude toward our fellow creatures can affect almost everything from our use of the land where we gather to the elements of our worship. 

Heat pumps at Waterloo North Mennonite Church 

Ecological literacy, being conscious of one’s impact on other living things, has been part of Christian creation care for decades now. Phasing out styrofoam cups at church picnics is an infamous historical example. More recently MCEC’s Creation Care Working Group led a virtual event to discuss “Climate Hero,” a personal pollution calculator, this past fall. 

For Andrew Schiedel, a member at Waterloo North Mennonite Church, the eco-literacy journey led to researching and installing a heat pump in his home. Whereas furnaces burn fuel, heat pumps transfer heat from one place to another, consuming less energy and emitting less pollution. Alongside two other members who worked as engineers, Andrew wondered: What if the church building used the same kind of system? It felt like the right thing to do. 

Equipped with gifts of passion and expertise, the team got to work analyzing Waterloo North’s existing systems and energy use. Thankfully, they had already made some progress on their plans when one of the building's furnaces failed and the congregation found themselves without working heating. Yet another motivation to make the change!  

Despite the savings on engineers and their natural gas bill, the heat pumps were more expensive than a simple furnace replacement. Like every part of the church’s mission, living within our ecological limits doesn’t always translate to gains for us. God's calling to do what is right, in this case to work and take care of the land (Genesis 2:15), is reason enough. 

Healing Garden at Preston Mennonite Church 

Many congregations have found gardens another way to care for the land close to home. Stewarding a community garden promotes shared low-impact agriculture while extending a hand of friendship to local gardeners. Pollinator gardens offer nourishment and habitat for local animals, contributing to the health of the surrounding land. 

Nestled between a seniors’ home and a public school, Preston Mennonite Church approached their pollinator garden with multiple aspects in mind. Supporting local ecosystems, providing space to be outdoors with creation, hosting fellowship between generations, and teaching about native flora were just a few of the garden’s possible gifts. 

Since the garden was going to be planted on historically Indigenous land, the congregation reached out to Indigenous educator Terre Chartrand to see what she had to say about the project. Terre helped the congregation listen to what the organisms and soil were saying, identifying what plants belonged and what didn’t. She also guided the congregation in offering thanks to the land by laying down tobacco, a medicine traditionally offered when taking something from the earth. 

When it became clear later on that a few sickly maples needed to be removed from the site, Muriel Bechtel, a member at Preston, felt moved to acknowledge how faithfully the trees had served. At first, she phoned Terre asking if she would come give thanks on the congregation’s behalf. Terre simply replied, “Why not do it yourself? I’ve told you how.” That morning, shortly before workers began removing the trees, Muriel said “Thank you” with tobacco as Terre had shown her. 

This kind of acknowledgement can be an important growing edge in a heavily industrialized culture. When our interactions with the earth acknowledge the creatures around us, we find that our generous God has created a generous world. We no longer take for granted the rain that nourishes the earth (Psalm 65:9-10) or the trees that stand pleasant to the sight (Genesis 2:9). As Muriel put it, the work of creation care opens us up to the “mutuality of give and take” in which God has placed human beings. 

Emerging forms of fellowship in Mennonite wild churches 

Inspired by the wild church movement in the United Kingdom, some congregations make connecting with creation part of their communal worship as well. This year marked the 10th anniversary of Burning Bush Forest Church, a group that worships regularly outdoors in Bechtel Park, Waterloo. To the southwest, leaders from Harrow Mennonite Church and Faith Mennonite Church have recently begun collaborating on their own outdoor services. 

Even outside Christian circles, being “in nature” is often a spiritually significant experience for people. Just as the movements of a Sunday service bring us out of the ordinary and into the sacred, the wilderness can become an extraordinary and holy place. Wild church worship therefore combines Scripture reading and prayer with attention to the creatures present. Decomposing logs and migrating geese offer gospel meditations. The sun, streams, and rocks make offerings of beauty in sight and sound. The storytellers I spoke to stressed that these creatures were not liturgical objects to be used, but fellow worshippers to be heard and respected. 

For many congregants, wild church services are monthly complements to weekly indoor worship. They are a somewhat experimental practice, filling a wilderness-shaped hole within a larger repertoire of spiritual disciplines. For others, wild church is their only church, possibly after years of struggling to find a fit in traditional congregations or having never approached Christian community before.  

In restoring relationships with non-human (or more-than-human) neighbours, we continue to encounter God’s handiwork in all its delights.

On a concluding note, my conversations about creation care have been some of the most rejuvenating, at least for me. Whether hearing from storytellers, adult Sunday school hours, or the inter-church idea exchange that ran in March, I’ve encountered joy, determination, and hope where I expected despair over ecological destruction and lagging global environmental policies. Even when powerful forces wound it, as the Psalms indicate, creation brings us face-to-face with God’s goodness. In restoring relationships with non-human (or more-than-human) neighbours, we continue to encounter God’s handiwork in all its delights. 

If you’re looking for ways to participate in creation care, here are a few possibilities: 

• Reach out to MCEC’s Creation Care Working Group at creationcare@mcec.ca to connect with others caring for creation from around the regional church. 

• If your congregation is seeking financial support to minimize their ecological impact, apply for Mennonite Church Canada’s Emissions Reduction Grant. The webpage includes stories of previous recipients if you’re looking for additional examples of Christian creation care. 

• Look into the Season of Creation, a yearly period of ecumenical prayer and action for creation from September 1 to October 4. Part of this year’s Leader magazine will highlight the Season in its worship materials. 

• A Rocha, an international organization dedicated to Christian conservation and environmental education, will be holding volunteer days and other events in Ontario throughout the summer. Consider attending one, as individuals or as a congregation. 

• Read Psalm 104 the next time you go out for a walk, hike, birdwatching excursion, etc. How might the Psalmist describe God’s work in your local landscape?