Conservation Hero?

Today I visited one of my absolute favorite places on the planet, the Circle B Bar Reserve. Miles of woodland hiking, including a scenic stretch along mammoth Lake Hancock--it's a nature lover's dream. Visitors easily spot dozens of plant and animal species. The new educational facility is a hit with the younger crowds. The shaded picnicking areas are fantastic. But let's cut to the chase: people hit the trail at the Circle B for one thing: the gators. I saw no less than 75 of the beasts today and was quickly reminded that what God has made is truly awesome (and some of it could eat me alive!).  

Now, in these and any woods, I am ever-mindful and weary of snakes. My buddy nearly trounced one (or is it the other way around?) on our last hike. So I kept my watchful eyes on the path's edges, ready to respond to any unfriendly movements or sounds. I didn't see a single snake. What I did see, however, was a small black object about the size of a wallet photo lying to my right within the brush. It was notably out of place and curiosity got the best of me, so I decided to retrieve the contaminant.  

It was a pin (i.e., something you stick on your shirt).

It was a piece of flair from a well-known, eco-friendly campaign (the name of which will remain unmentioned).  

It read, "Conservation Hero."

Oh the irony!  

Who do you think would appreciate the pin less? The filthy-rich donor noted for his contribution to a conservation fund or the blue heron who choked on the pin tossed aside by the donor to said fund?

I pitied the heron and carried the pin home, sad that someone who could give so much for nature's care could care so little for nature himself (and let's not leave the ladies out, maybe it was a she!).  

It was a reminder to me that badges and labels mean SQUAT without the conviction to act and to love. John (the Revelator) was pretty straightforward: "We love because he first loved us.  If anyone says, 'I love God,' yet hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God, whom he has not seen. And he has given us this command: Whoever loves God must also love his brother" (1 John 4:19-21).

Does our Christianity mar the path? Does our lack of concern create a stumbling block for others in God's creation? Is "Christian" simply a label to be worn for recognition or personal security?

Or do we dare to love as He has loved us? Do we dare to be relentless in our care and compassion for other people? Do we follow the lead of Christ in His radical and redemptive commitment to humanity?    

That's me in the corner ...

I'm sure that many people will read the the title of this rant and reflect page (blogspot) and fear that I have thrown in the towel of my faith: that couldn't be more untrue. I am a follower of Jesus Christ, wholeheartedly commited to him in spite of all of the difficulties of life, in spite of a multitude of questions (and some doubts), and in spite of the mess that is my own faith journey.

Some will simply write the heading off as homage to REM's smash hit. No disrespect for Michael Stipe intended, but music (his or any other's) is not my motivation for entering the blogosphere.

Others, especially those of us who originated below the Mason Dixon, will appreciate the rhetoric. To be sure, there is a southern root to the expression. To "lose my religion" is to lose my civility or my composure or even my temper. The euphemism has rolled off this southern boy's tongue on more than one occasion (and, in moments of such anger, so have a few choice words that I am not proud of). While some posts may be marked by such a loss of civility--and hopefully, by candor--anger is not the impetus for my writing.

I write for myself and for all passionate followers of Jesus who wish to shed religiousity in favor of true, "pure and faultless" religion: all those who aim to, in the words of the Apostle, look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world (James 1:27). While neither we nor our life circumstances are the original recipients and contexts for this verse and letter, I believe that 1:27 must somehow typify what we call Christ-i-anity or that we must remove "Christ" from the label.

That's why I write. That's why I wrestle. That's why I am willing to lose my religion and, on occasion, even my civility. That's me in the corner ...