Bearing witness to beauty and pain
Amid political turmoil and climate grief
It’s a platitude, but I’m finding value lately in reminding myself to stay in the present moment. I do this to keep at bay my fears about the future, especially with the realities of climate change. The honey locust trees outside of my windows — which give me such peace of mind and keep me on the porch for hours in the summer and fall — are vulnerable to storms and disease exacerbated by the stress of heat and drought. But today, their bare winter branches gracefully stretch toward the clouds and blue sky.
When even the present moment is rough, as it is politically, I remember how my grandmother would say “This, too, shall pass.” I am too much a lover of history to think we are the first people to be going through a time such as this. An essay by Howard Zinn recalls instances in the 20th century of people who struggled for justice, toppled tyrants, and proved that “the apparent overwhelming power of those who have the guns and the money” is not in fact invincible. Zinn argues that “this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction. . . . to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.”
Those words buoy me — until climate despair threatens to pull me into its churning waters again. I’m reading a book about grief and other emotions related to living in a time of advancing climate change. The essays in Solastalgia, published in 2023, resonate deeply with a lot of what I’m feeling. Yet when they express faith in collective action, I wonder if they would say the same now, after the U.S. withdrew from the Paris climate agreement for a second time. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change wrote in 2022 that it was possible globally to “halve emissions by 2030.” Maybe some new technology can save the earth, or maybe there are enough global governments and industries to cut back greenhouse-gas emissions enough without U.S. participation. But I’m not counting on it.
During the years when I was a hospital chaplain, I learned the value of bearing witness. I couldn’t change the outcomes for seriously ill people. I could only accompany them and their loved ones in the midst of suffering and hope. I waited and watched with them for signs of healing. Yet I had enough detachment to recognize, at times, that it was a matter of people not being able to accept what they were hearing and seeing, and that the person in the hospital bed would not recover.
I fear that is the case with our earth today, that humans may have done so much damage that it is already too late. While we don’t know exactly how it will unfold, we do know the planet and its creatures are suffering already. Whether or not the earth can recover, we can bear witness to what is hard and what is beautiful among people, other creatures, and the land itself.
Doing that well requires moving away from orientation toward the future. I am letting go of outcomes in my activism. I’m not striving for longevity. I’m focusing instead on loving myself and the people around me today, without knowing what the future holds.
Reading and listening
I was more vulnerable in my writing that I often am in these columns for the March 2025 issue of the Christian Century magazine. If they touch a chord, please feel free to be in touch.
“Transfiguration,” by Celeste Kennel-Shank
Peter, James, and John are all of us.
“Ash Wednesday,” by Celeste Kennel-Shank
Isaiah and Matthew invite us into deeper solidarity. None is well until all are well.
With the 45th anniversary of Romero’s death on March 24, I’m revisiting the words of the Salvadoran archbishop, who took “the risks of life that history demands of us.” For more on the context, here’s a post I wrote ten years ago: “Oscar Romero’s grain of wheat”
I also recently contributed to Sojourners magazine’s “The Best Faith and Justice Books of the Century (So Far)”
Among what I’ve read from other writers, I wanted to highlight these two pieces:
“Churches and immigration: The clarity of Jesus’ call,” by Isaac Villegas. Faith & Leadership
“We understood our embodied witness of ecclesial sanctuary as a collective act of discipleship in opposition to the federal administration’s anti-immigrant policies.”
“Which church is dying?” by Debie Thomas, the Christian Century, September 2024
The church of empire might be. But I’m not ready to call time of death on the mystical body of Christ.
At a community member’s recommendation, I listened to a conversation between Joerg Rieger and Miguel De La Torre as part of the Truth in Tough Times series.
“Solidarity is at the core.” — Rieger
“With solidarity comes community.” — De La Torre
Whether or not you celebrate the holiday this coming Sunday, Sufjan Stevens’ song “The Transfiguration” is worth a listen, if only for the instrumentation.
Book news
There’s a new-ish independent bookstore three blocks from my house, Restoried Bookshop, and its wonderful owner kindly featured my book on the Chicago authors shelf.
(I bought the book to the right of mine in this photo, partly because it make me laugh out loud as I flipped through it. Who couldn’t use a good belly laugh these days?)
I’m happy to talk to small groups or congregations on topics connecting to my book, What You Sow Is a Bare Seed: A Countercultural Christian Community during Five Decades of Change, as well as my experience in congregations and as a journalist covering the US religious landscape. If you’re interested, you can reply to this email. And if you are a professor or are inclined to pass this on to professors who might be interested in adding by seminary students (and possible some college students also), here’s my pitch:
What You Sow Is a Bare Seed offers an in-depth case study for field education courses and beyond, weaving together historical and theological context on the wider church and society with compelling stories of real people, presenting congregational dynamics in an engaging way. Professors who are interested in an exam copy can fill out this form. The author, Celeste Kennel-Shank, welcomes opportunities to talk to classes.