Oh, I can agree with that without agreeing with the scripture. Trees are nice people. You can sit under them and hold hands. You can climb in them. They suck up carbon dioxide and return oxygen. For free. They are shady and their roots keep the ground from becoming one huge desert. But they need water and so do we.

Nothing like walking through a forest to make you feel awesome. And the cherry blossom trees. When they bloom. Oh, man.

Yes, we must save the trees even if we have to give up war.

Well, as you know, Janice, that's another part of the problem. Massive deforestation means that the trees are no longer sucking up the CO2, and are no longer producing oxygen. But I'm sure the Prophet Isaiah had it all figured out, so we don't need to worry.

WOW! Janice!

For decades I've thought Pat Robertson was a fellow Catholic! HE'S NOT!

HALLELUJAH! No need for me to cringe quite so violently the next time he says something asinine! This frees up much-needed energy for cringing at the asinine statements of people who really are my fellow Catholics (a recent facepalm-worthy example here).

Oh, Michael Cantor, how wrong you were, when you predicted that no one would get anything worthwhile out of this thread!

* * *

Thanks for clarifying, Charlie, but I think the sea level can still rise enough to cause substantial havoc without violating the covenant that "never again shall the water become a flood to destroy all flesh".

Surely it's Scriptural to take sensible precautions against foreseeable catastrophes, and to repent of foolish risks; e.g., the parable contrasting the man who built his house on sand and the man who built his house on rock. Note that it's not a parable about there being no difference between sand and rock, for the person who trusts in the Lord.

It seems relevant to mention that when, 19 months ago, I called my dad to announce that a suitable heart had finally become available for my teenaged daughter, who had been at death's door for months...his response was to express disappointment: "Oh. I was praying for a miracle."

My response was an incredulous laugh: "What makes you think this isn't a miracle? Not Hollywood enough for you? Yes, there's a perfectly scientific explanation for what's saving Jenn's life. Yes, there are human beings involved in making it happen. But love is permeating the whole thing--from the priceless gift that the donor and her family are making to us strangers, to the amazing commitment of the members of the medical team, to the support of our family members and friends, many of whom are atheists. Love is always holy. Always. This may not meet your standards of a miraculous cure, but it sure meets mine! And I know you've heard the old joke about two boats and a helicopter."

In the same way, human concern for the environment--if motivated by compassion and gratitude, rather than misanthropy--sure looks like the work of love to me. And if we believe what Scripture says about God being love, how can that not be holy?

What is arrogant or presumptuous about human beings taking practical steps to protect the environment? Was my family arrogant or presumptuous to hand over my daughter's care to doctors, rather than to hold out for a no-human-hands miracle? Personally, I think it would have been arrogant and presumptuous for us to do nothing, and insist that God do things exactly the way we had in mind--which also happened to be the easiest and most convenient for us.

Yes, it is the easiest and most convenient response to the environment to do nothing--to make no changes in our own behavior, to not say things that will make us unpopular, to not cause ourselves headaches by annoying the industries and politicians who profit from the status quo. But since when has doing the right thing been the easiest and most convenient thing?

My dad is still a bit bummed that divine intervention didn't magically make all of Jenn's problems go away. The first year after the transplant was really, really tough for her, and living with immunosuppression is still no picnic, as she finishes her fifth year of high school and prepares to go off to college this year. But it has been a very spiritual experience for Jenn and her friends and the rest of our family, anyway.

Trying to be a good steward of the earth can be very spiritual, too.

Drat! Someone asked me if I might be conflating conservative pundit Pat Robertson (Southern Baptist) with conservative pundit Pat Buchanan (definitely Catholic), and I was. Sigh. Both are strongly opposed to the idea of anthropomorphic climate change.

Worst of all, I feel as if I've lost a bet with Michael Cantor, and now have to pay up.

[Edited to say: Hey, if I pay up, then someone will have gotten something worthwhile out of this thread, and I'll still be right. Heh, heh, heh. So, Michael, I'll be sending you a copy of the excellent Richard Newman's All the Wasted Beauty of the World, published by Able Muse Press last year. While I'm at it, I'll send copies to John Whitworth and Charlie Southerland. And Matt Q, for his hilarious "Subject Change" post announcing the start this thread (here, if anyone missed it).

I think all of you will love the book, which does not require climate change buy-in. Win-win-win-win. And win, counting me.]

Charlie air pollution is intrinsically part of climate change. Do a google search, " air pollution climate change' you will find 44 million hits on the subject.

“There are only two kinds of madness that one should guard against, Ben,” he said calmly. “One is the belief that we can do everything. The other is the belief that we can do nothing.”

-- André Brink, A Dry White Season (an extraordinary novel that I only recently discovered)