In Catholic circles, environmentalists have a habit of talking about environmentalism with minimal reference to Jesus. This is a problem because if you want Christians to care about something, then you need to make a strong link with Christ.
Don’t forget Jesus
Christian environmentalists rightly give a lot of attention to God the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth. Hard to argue with that. One might expect Jesus to be the next most prominent person in the drama, but this is rarely the case. The spotlight often shines on him only briefly before landing on other models, like St Francis of Assisi, patron saint of ecology. Obviously St Francis is an inspiration to many, but if his goodness is not explained in terms of being a disciple of Jesus, then something big is missing.
There are many ways of making the connection between environmentalism and Jesus. An important one, I believe, is his humility. Jesus talked about himself using various metaphors and images: Son of Man, shepherd, bridegroom, Way, Truth, Life, I AM. But he only ever used two adjectives to describe himself: “I am gentle and humble of heart” (Mt 11:29). To be a follower of Jesus, means becoming humble.
For St Ignatius Loyola, growing in humility was central to his commitment to imitating Jesus. In the Spiritual Exercises retreat manual which he composed, Ignatius presented two fundamental life paths [Sp. Ex. §136]: to enlist under the standard of Lucifer, our enemy, or under the standard of Christ, our Lord. The first way is marked by the pursuit of riches, leading to social honours and pride, with pride then leading to all the other vices. The second was is marked by the pursuit material poverty or spiritual poverty (knowing your dependance on God and others), leading to lower social status and humility, with humility then leading to all the other virtues.
This rather terse formulation is actually a summary of Ignatius’s own life story. For the first half of his life he sought fortune and fame as a soldier and courtier. While his social trajectory was stellar, his egotistical sense of entitlement and showmanship was to be his downfall. A foolhardy decision ended up with him being seriously injured in battle. His star had fallen. Once he found himself low down on the social ladder, to everyone’s surprise he decided to stay there. In the second half of his life, marked by poverty, lowliness and humility, he gave so much to so many.
Pride and humility have pivotal roles in Ignatius’ thinking. Pride is not just a vice—it is a vice that leads to all the other vices. Conversely, humility is the virtue that leads to all the other virtues. We can think of them as ‘gateway’ vices and virtues.
Humility: a gateway virtue in a time of climate crisis
To respond to the climate crisis, JCFJ advocates for a transition away from a car-based transport system to one that invests more in active and public transport. I see our own personal efforts to walk, to cycle and to take public transport more often, and to take the car less often, as efforts to grow in humility.
Walking is humbling. In a culture that values speed, walking is slow. Having to walk a few miles to and from school or work every day is a classic yarn from ‘the olden days’. You would feel sorry for anyone who had to endure the ignominy of such a trek today. Not because of the physical effort, mind you: if people walk or run a few miles in the evening for exercise, you admire them. But somebody has tricked us into believing that getting around by foot is not as socially respectable as getting around by car. Now who could have done that?
Cycling is a bit faster, but it is also humbling. You know your place in the world when a vehicle speeds by you, much too close for comfort. You know that you are a vulnerable creature.
Public transport is humbling in the sense of it being a leveller. Everyone waits together for the bus, tram or train to arrive. In most modes of public transport (first class carriages aside) everyone shares the same conditions, whether spacious, quiet, noisy or cramped. Everyone accepts that they will stop at stops that they don’t want to stop at.
Just as Ignatius predicted, these humble ways of getting around lead to more virtues. Let’s start with the best known one—patience. Just as the red mist is descending you can always rely on some helpful soul to remind you that “patience is a virtue!” Gee, thanks.
Walking, cycling, public transport—they all gradually make us into people who can wait, who can accept detours and delays, and live with less haste in our minds and bodies. At a certain point you realise that waiting is more enjoyable when you wait patiently rather than impatiently! I don’t have any children of my own but thanks to public transport I am more patient with crying babies and children than before. I have certainly encountered impatient (and rude) cyclists, but the vibes on cycle lanes are generally positive. And at least their impatience is less of a threat to others than the impatience of somebody in a large fast-moving vehicle.
Taking more humble modes of transport also allows us to grow in attentiveness. The places we live are constantly revealing themselves to us, if only we slow down enough to notice. It is remarkable what you start to see, hear, smell, feel and taste when you decelerate. One night, cycling through Summerhill on my way home, I heard 80,000 voices in Croke Park singing ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’. I got off the bike, stood on the bridge, and travelled back to 1996. I wouldn’t have had that moment if I’d taken the car that night.
And, of course, active and public transport provide the conditions for us to become more sociable and convivial. The alternative to being cocooned in our cars is to be fruitfully connected with our neighbour. I have read several articles of late about people having meaningful encounters on public transport. The other essential condition for this traveller was not being on her mobile phone.
According to Dr Caoimhe Clarke, from Irish Doctors for the Environment, “Every shared smile on a bus or chat with a fellow cyclist helps combat the isolation that grows when we spend our days sealed inside cars.” We are social animals and isolation is detrimental to our wellbeing. So Dr Clarke’s observation that communities built around active and public transport “consistently enjoy better health outcomes and stronger connections” makes complete sense. One in five adults in Ireland feel lonely most or all of the time, so the case for having fewer cars and more public transport on public health grounds is strong.
Ignatius realised that following Jesus did not mean getting up to his level—it meant getting down to his level. May this humble approach to life, and all that comes from it, be the mark of every Christian environmentalist.
