All, Or Nothing

Today, as you're no doubt aware, is Earth Day, and in my opinion, a central part of being an ecologically responsible person is thinking globally. I'm not just talking about being informed about international events or considering global perspectives (although those are important things, too)— I'm talking about trying to overcome our more selfish impulses by thinking about the common good.

I mean, a lot of the ecological problems we're experiencing today came about because, for a long time, people just didn't think broadly enough. People didn't think about what would happen to the earth and its living creatures when they tossed trash on the ground— they only thought about what an inconvenience it would be to have to properly dispose of their waste. They didn't think about landfills and pollution when they tossed out perfectly useful things— they only thought about how much nicer it would be to have new things instead of reusing the old ones. No one really cared about the fact that cars were polluting the environment, because, hey, it would be so durned annoying to have to improve fuel efficiency. And if manufacturers worked hard on improving the gas mileage of their cars...well, then prices would go up, and families might have to make do with one or two cars instead of five or six!

Of course, we all know this, and we know that the selfishness problem doesn't just stop with our environmental issues— it's part and parcel of our economic woes ("But I want that huge house RIGHT NOW!"), our societal problems ("Well, I guess I could give ten dollars to charity this month, but only if I'm sure I can afford that new pool I want"), and, to some extent, our political woes ("I could never support measures to help the poor if it means taking away some of MY money— I have a right to buy as much crap as I want, you know").

I really enjoyed this Newsweek piece about the epidemic of narcissism in the United States. (As a side note, I did disagree with a few of the author's points, namely with her mockery of the idea that it's important to love yourself. I don't think positive self-esteem is the same thing as selfishness, and in fact, I think a lot of selfishness has to do with feeling inadequate and insecure, and not wanting to show it.) I'm amazed that thirty percent of college students agreed with the statement: "If I show up to every class, I deserve at least a B." Who are these people? And how could their parents have raised them this way?

What's even more amazing to me is that a whopping eighty percent of Americans describe themselves as Christians, and yet we continue to see such blatant selfishness in the political, social, and environmental arenas. Um, did some people miss the part where Christianity is almost entirely about self-sacrifice? I mean, the central Christian story is about a guy who, instead of marketing his popular philosophical ideas into a series of self-help books and tapes and retiring early with his millions, chose to die a horrible, painful, slow, public, humiliating death in order to show the world what true love means. The idea isn't that Jesus died so that we could spend our days buying plasma TVs and designer-label clothes; the idea is supposed to be that, like Jesus, we should work on giving ourselves to and for others.

Here is one of my favorite parts of the Bible:

[The early followers of Jesus] devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. [Acts 2: 42-45 (NIV)]

Early Christians weren't going around saying, "Gee, poor people must be poor because they're lazy and selfish. They certainly don't deserve my money. I worked hard for what I have, and I think I should buy myself a nice new pair of sandals." They gave to anyone as he had need. They weren't saying, "Well, I'll keep what's mine, and to hell with the rest of the world. I don't need to worry about other people's air or water or land." They had everything in common. If eighty percent of Americans are Christians, why are there still so many poor people? Why is there so much waste, so much destruction? Why do have such difficulty even identifying problems as problems, let alone fixing them?

Like I've said before, I don't think everyone needs to be a Christian, and I'm not really into evangelism or conversion; I'm proud to know a lot of wonderful, kind people who live their lives quite happily and contentedly without the need to believe in God. What I'm trying to say (in my own clumsy, preachy, whiny, roundabout way) is that, if I'm going to be a Christian, I need to be constantly trying to see the interconnectedness of things, to understand how my actions affect those around me— even people I don't know or like, not just my family members and friends.

Now, I'd be a hypocrite if I said I was always a loving, caring, sharing sort of gal. I'm no Jesus; I'm no saint. I like Girl Scout Cookies and video games as much as anyone; sometimes I get caught up in what's good for me, and what makes me happy, and I don't give a thought to what other people want. I can be quite the narcissist, myself, and I'm not offering my life up as the paragon of anything (well, maybe the paragon of sleeping, since I'm pretty good at taking naps!). I'm not perfect, and I know that no one is perfect, and I don't expect anyone to become perfect. But a lack of perfection does not mean an abdication of the responsibility to try and make things BETTER, to try and identify the negative and hurtful aspects of your lifestyle and your mindset and to improve them, wherever and however you live. Every single day, I wonder how I can become a better person, and slowly, I think I'm making headway overall, even if I do a heck of a lot of backsliding in the process.

Just because the world will never be a rosy utopian paradise doesn't mean we should just give up and turn our backs. Just because everything seems all messed up and broken right now doesn't mean we should stop trying to spread as much love and compassion as we can, or that we should stop working to see the beauty in the brokenness. Just because some people find themselves unable to love their world and their neighbors doesn't mean that we should join them.

Saving the earth means cultivating a sense of us rather than just me, even if it's not always a permanent (or easy) state of mind.