Boiling Frogs

“The Earth sustains humanity. It must not be harmed; it must not be destroyed.” -St. Hildegard of Bingen

This month is hottest month since scientists began collecting and recording climate data. New single day records for hottest global temperature were set back to back on July 3 and 4, exceeding 17°C (62.6°F) for the first time. Although the level of warming is only about 2.4°F since preindustrial levels, that little bit is making big differences, showing just how fragile our hospitable environment is.

We’re racing toward an environmental precipice. We have to do something. Oh, but that’s hyperbole, right? We say this every year. Yes, because it’s worse every year. Yet because the constant drum beat as been regulated to another bit of background noise, we’ll failed to heed it’s warning. Plus, what are we supposed to do at this point anyway? It feels like not that urgent an issue and too urgent to fathom at the same time—both leading us to our response of nothing.

Texans face days of extreme heat straining their power grid. Smoke from Canadian wildfires cover the east coast. (Very dumb) tourists flock to Death Valley to take their picture by the thermometer pushing 130°F. And that’s just where it’s dry. The water surrounding the Florida Keys has measured over 100°F (typical is upper-80s). El Niño is bringing storms and rain—causing massive flooding in areas not used to such severe weather.

And it’s global. Rome reached a record 109°F this month, and China a record 126°F. The heat index in the Middle East hit 152°F—fatally dangerous. More than 40% of the ocean water is experiencing unusual warming at the same time. The Solomon Islands are “sinking” under sea levels rising at three times the average rate. Antarctic sea ice is failing to replenish (it’s winter down there in July)—experts are calling it a five sigma, meaning five standard deviations from the mean, a once in 7.5 million year event. Less ice accelerates warming of the ocean waters, which in turn creates more and stronger storms.

Next year is expected to be warmer.

All of this inevitably affects the food supply—heatstroke in livestock, ruined crops by mold or drought. Coral reefs are bleaching. Animals are dying or are being pushed out of their traditional habitats. Every little increase moves us exponentially further from the balance at which we build our societies. We are slowly suffocating (or drowning or starving or whatever catastrophic verb you wish to choose).

At this point, does the debate over how much is natural fluctuation and how much is result of human activity really matter? The issue is how can we intervene to slow (or stop, or even reverse) it so that we can live safely. (Yes, the debate over causes does matter if you’re a policy maker or scientist, but not if you’re still having the do-nothing v. do-something debate.) We are stewards of the planet; we are obligated to treat it responsibly.

The poor bear the greatest brunt of ecological damage. It is them who can’t rebuild after fires and floods. It is them who live next to toxic dumping grounds. It is them who can’t simply move and ignore. The USCCB says, “In examining environmental questions, the concept of the ‘common good’ is central in promoting the dignity, unity, and equality of all people… The common good also requires a concern for not only the people of today but for future generations as well.” As Christians, we are called to care for creation—that includes fighting against practices that pollute the land, waters, and air.

In his encyclical Laudato Si, Pope Francis reminds us “how inseparable the bond is between concern for nature, justice for the poor, commitment to society, and interior peace.” The work of ecological conservation is a spiritual one.

We cannot become accustomed to every summer being hotter, every winter being harsher, every storm being stronger. We have to be conscious of our effects on the environment and active in preventing further harm. We have to acknowledge and care for those most affected—those who work in hot, humid conditions, those losing home in storms and droughts, those struggling to eat when crops fail. We are commanded to care for the earth and care for our neighbor. There are no quick solutions to the climate crisis. It is something, I assume, I will have to respond to for the rest of my life, always something to consider when I discern whether I am truly doing what God commands.