I am pleased, honored, and humbled to share the news that I will have an article in the inaugural edition of The EcoTheo Review, a new quarterly online magazine which will launch officially tomorrow (Sept. 10, 2013). EcoTheo is aimed at creating conversations around those places where faith, ecology and culture intersect. It’s a movement growing out of a cohort of students at Princeton Theological Seminary that includes my cousin, friend, and oft-times co-conspirator Nate Sell.
I’ll post an update tomorrow on my social media sites when the first edition goes live, but here’s a brief excerpt:
Sometimes I take people–friends–into these mountains, along these cascading streams and rivers, and they see them, and they are utterly gobsmacked by the visual splendor of it all. And they say things like, “How can you look at this view and say there’s no God?”
I guess I understand what they’re saying. But for me it has never been about just seeing it. Yes, it is a feast for the eyes. Stunning broad vistas from the peaks. The play of color and light in the valleys. It is always ancient, always new, both real and surreal.
No, for me it is the water. Always the water. The closer to its source I go, the closer I find myself to my own. The more intimate I become with it, the more I discover its story, the more connected I become with the One Great Story. It awakes the soul it led me to discover as a boy, and stirs it to life in ways that always thrill and surprise me.
It is the water. And with the water came trout. And in the water, the trout and I became friends.
With my finely-tapered magic wand of split bamboo, and with wisps of fur and feather lashed on tiny hooks attached to gossamer monofilament, I step tentatively into the flow, glancing about for a flash beneath the surface or a nose poking up into that mysterious place where water meets sky. I remember that the early Hebrews referred to “heaven” as “sky,” thinking of it not as someplace within the great blue expanse above the horizon or as the twinkling black sea of night, but as that omnipresent ether that is always and ever all around us. It is in the very air we breathe. Near, not distant. Something we are part of, not apart from. And I wonder how we managed to forget.
I hope you’ll check out the full article and all of the other amazing content in this new venture when it comes out tomorrow.
But more than that, I hope you’ll get involved in the conversation. Share it with your friends. Help change become real.