Virtual Cloister: Field Notes From a Catastrophe

Field Notes from a Catastrophe: Man, Nature, and Climate Change

Elizabeth Kolbert

This book, which I hope we all read, is somewhat misleading. Not misleading in the science as presented, but in the sense that as I ask us to read such a book, it might be concluded that I am attempting to move us as a diocese into environmental activism through shocking us with the fear of the looming crisis. This is not the case, as you will see.

I do, however, think that the environmental crisis is not fully grasped by most of us, and I put myself in that category too. As I read this book there were moments when I realized that Sheila Andrus had been alerting me to some of the implications of science findings she has been in touch with for twenty years, and I was nodding yes, but not really understanding.

Field Notes from a Catastrophe is written by a journalist who writes for the New Yorker, and formerly for the New York Times. An important note, as you can expect a good, clean journalistic style in this book. She is writing about enormously complex material, and the twin dangers in such writing is to either give it out undigested, or to simplify so far that distortion occurs. I think Kolbert has avoided both negative possibilities.

The book is not objective, in that Kolbert is fully convinced of the reality of the environmental crisis. This is appropriate, as the body of evidence is very strong that human effects are causing global climate change that will have significant, and finally disastrous effects on both human life and the life of the planet.

Kolbert ranges widely, both over the globe, charting evidence of global climate change not only in places like the Arctic Circle, but in England, the United States, and in the ancient world of history and pre-history. In one of the most gripping sections, Kolbert  interviews a scientist who became intrigued by the Akkadian accounts of the end of the empire established by Sargon I, the first emperor of the first empire in recorded history, an end that happened around 2200 B.C..

Scholars who had worked with the Akkadian texts had generally assumed that the account of the empire’s end, highly dramatic and implicating the natural order in the fall of the human empire, was a reflection of an ancient cosmology, and not a historic, accurate account. In 1978, a Yale archeologist began to think that there was evidence in other archeological sites in the region that gave credence to the Akkadian account.

“Eventually, Weiss came to believe that the lifeless soil of Tell Leilan and the end of the Akkadian empire were products of the same phenomenon – a drought so prolonged and so severe that it represented, in his words, an example of ‘climate change.’” (p. 97)

The significance of Kolbert’s review of an ancient climate change-related catastrophe is this: the Akkadians had lived with limited rainfall and water supplies throughout the history of the empire. As Kolbert said, each generation had taught the next how to cope with agriculture in a limited water scenario. But with this severe, regional, prolonged drought, there was no ability to adapt. One estimate is that between one million and two million people died in the drought. Later in the same chapter, Kolbert interviews David Rind, a Goddard Institute for Space Sciences scientist, who was approached by a federal administration official a few years before the interview. Rind reports the official as having said the administration is interested in “adaptation to climate change.” Rind goes on to say that he gave a talk based on his drought models, focused on California, to California water-resource managers. “And they said, ‘Well, if that happens, forget it.’ There’s no way they could deal with that.” P. 111 No adaptation is possible.

And here is where I want to step back, as a Christian, and correct the impression I began by saying would be misleading. I think this environmental crisis is present, and it is immense, even unprecedented. And in terms of a technological “fix” Rind may well be right, there may be a point beyond which that is not possible. But what I am looking for in our lives in the Diocese of California with respect to the environment is deep reason for our engagement in this issue that comes from our life in Christ, is grounded in the hope of Christ, and the that is in fact compassion itself.

Our response to the environmental crisis must come from our prayer life, from the unbounded reality of God, rather than from a place of fear and limitation. We must be part of a theologically grounded response to this crisis, and help the area lead from that place, what we can contribute, as well as our knowledge and our active energy. What you recognize in what I’m saying is that our response could be an expression of the Wisdom Christianity I see flowering in the Diocese of California, action flowing from contemplation (which includes, for me, such surprising modes of contemplation as Cursillo and 12 Step programs, as well as more obvious examples like Christian meditation and centering prayer).

Questions:
When have you experienced a situation for which your previous training and experience had not prepared you?
How did you respond? 
How was prayer part of your response?
What did you learn from this experience?