Reflecting on "respect for the interdependent web of all existence"

Elizabeth McCreless is an intern at GIPL who works on environmental justice issues and comes to GIPL from the Lutheran Service Core. She reflects on the interdependency of humanity and the environment...Growing up Unitarian Universalist (UU), I vividly remember being taught the seven principles, the core tenets of my religion--“the inherent worth and dignity of every person,” “the free and responsible search for truth and meaning,” and so on. Somewhere around fifth grade, the Winchester Unitarian Society kids spent a Sunday morning questing around the church to collect seven colorful plastic beads by completing different tasks related to the principles. The seventh bead I tied on my black silk thread was a green one, representing our seventh UU principle: “respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.”The seventh principle is among the UU ideals with a special place in my heart. As one of the few of the seven principles whose wording I committed to memory, its message will always remain with me.I remember it was a revelation when I realized in my pre-teen years that the seventh principle wasn’t only about plants. It says it in the principle itself: we are a part of the interdependent web of all existence. We are. Humans. It should have been obvious, but wasn’t: respect for the interdependent web of all existence includes respect for the inherent worth and dignity of every person and for the whole human community. In the Judeo-Christian tradition, the number seven has often been seen to symbolize completion. In this sense, the seventh principle is truly seventh—it is the completion, fulfillment, and summation of all the others. To paraphrase Rabbi Hillel: Respect the interdependent web of all existence—this is the one principle, the rest are commentary.We are a part, but just a part—no better than other parts, not special. Humans’ capacity to empathize with others and to plan for the future with some (although never sufficient) understanding of the consequences of our actions gives us extra responsibility to take on a role of stewardship—a role one creation story tells us Adam and Eve were given by God. But this extra responsibility does not set us apart from the rest of creation. Our responsibility to each other is not at all separate from our responsibility to the earth because we too are part of creation.We are interdependent—humans and the earth, and humans with each other. We have a responsibility to each other and to God to care for creation, but true interdependence means that ultimately this is also a responsibility to ourselves and our own interests. We cannot live without the rest of the web, and cooperation among diverse humans will be just as imperative to our continued survival and thriving as human care for the earth. In fact, appropriate care for the earth will require cooperation among diverse humans.It was at an interfaith summer camp that I had my second revelation about the seventh principle. A Catholic bunkmate and I were discussing our views of God. She said something about seeing God in the connections between people and suddenly it clicked for me. “You know the seven UU principles I was telling you about?” I said with awe, “Well the seventh one--‘Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part’—I hadn’t thought of it this way before, but maybe it’s about God.” We continued discussing and both came to the conclusion that there is something about those connections in the web of creation that points to God. I am poorly equipped to describe exactly what is going on here—are the connections a sign? An act of God? A presence? Or even an aspect of God? Whatever it is, God is somehow there in that interdependence. Sometimes I view God as the connective tissue of the universe, an omnipresent source that every particular being can connect with and which interconnects us all. In this view, our responsibilities to God, to morality, to each other, to ourselves become less delineated—they are all encompassed by our responsibility to respect the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.Most, maybe all, of the world’s religions have taught some form of reverence for the earth and obligation to concern ourselves with the welfare of other humans and the planet we share. This is an obligation I accept. Since my youth, I have deepened my commitment to caring for creation by drawing on a variety of sources for inspiration—as far flung from my own experience as Buddhist teachings about concern for the life of all beings and as close to home as Mary Oliver’s poetry. Reading the Books of Moses, particularly Genesis, inspires me to consider God’s initial plan for creation, God’s mercy in revising the plans (multiple times) in light of human incompetence, and the radical idea that perhaps we as humans don’t have to simply resign ourselves to continued failure—perhaps God’s original ideals are something we can still aspire to, even if we will never quite get back to Eden. Reading Calvin’s Institutes reminded me to view the awe and wonder I feel at creation as a way to connect to its Creator. Reading the Gospels reminds me to stand with those cast out or forgotten by other parts of society and inspires me to believe that peaceful resistance to even deeply entrenched power structures is possible. Hearing about and talking to people of faith around the country who are working to preserve and restore God’s creation inspires me to know that I am not alone and together we can make a difference.I believe in a God who created the universe out of love, who loves that creation and desires that it be preserved in all its glorious beauty. I believe in a God who is saddened by the destruction humans cause to creation and who calls us to reverse the damage before it is too late. At the same time, I believe in a God who created the universe because, for lack of a better way to put it, God thought it better to create this universe than not to create it. I believe in a God who, knowing the whole of what would happen to this creation, decided it was worth it and chose to create. This doesn’t mean everything is going according to God’s will or plan. As many Biblical stories show us, stuff in creation has never gone according to “plan,” all the way back to Eden. It’s really easy for us humans to mess up. Things get messy and difficult and toxic and polluted and we can’t let that stop us from striving for God’s ideal of a beautiful, peaceful, just world. God’s initial judgment that creation was worth it shouldn’t inspire complacence in the least.But in a really messed up time, it can inspire a little bit of comfort.The idea that God may be saddened but is not surprised gives me the hope and comfort I need to keep enjoying life and working for change. It means that God knew where we would end up and decided that in the balance of things, creation was worth it even if humans do cause a lot of destruction—because they, as well as other members of God’s creation, also do a lot of great things. That Shakespeare and Louis Armstrong and silver leaf maples and the civil rights movement and Rabbi Hillel and Gothic cathedrals and Gandhi and Judith Butler and Yellowstone National Park and Plato’s dialogues and the feeling you get when you come together with another person in mutual relationship and the value inherent in every life, however long—that all that and everything else makes it worth it in the end. The idea that God made that judgment in creating the universe gives me comfort enough to enjoy all these wondrous, strange, delightful things and that enjoyment gives me purpose enough to continue fighting to preserve them.