Peter and Miranda moved to Portugal in 1983 to establish and run A Rocha’s first field study centre. Together with their four children they lived at the centre for twelve years until 1995 when the work was given over to national leadership. They then moved to establish A Rocha France’s first centre near Arles, and lived there until 2010, providing coordination and giving leadership to the rapidly growing global movement. They are now back in the UK from where they work to support the A Rocha family around the world while being closer to their own, and not least their grandchildren. Their story is told in Under the Bright Wings (1993) and Kingfisher’s Fire (2008).
Most places that we know around the world have witnessed what has been called a ‘thinning of life’. How anyone lives experiences like this will, of course, depend on what kind of person they are. Miranda and I have an arts training and background, and at times our response to these multiple losses has been emotional and quite personal.
The grand drama of Easter took place as a three-day-event around the special Shabbat during Passover. Holy Saturday is the least remembered day of the Easter Mystery: after Good Friday and before Easter Sunday. Yet all of Jesus’ claims and actions regarding Sabbath point to this climactic place in time.
As I spent time in homes and churches in Cape Town, talking to ordinary residents, faith leaders and a few politicians and experts, I found myself reflecting on the issues this water crisis reveals, so here are a few personal thoughts as a result of many conversations and wide-ranging reading.
Advent and Christmas remind us that the Christ-child came to bring peace. We remember that we need peace with God, and we remember that we need peace with our neighbor. But does Christ’s birth have anything to do with bringing peace between us and animals – does the advent mean goodwill to manatees?
Biology professor R. Alexander Pyron argues that ‘The only reason we should conserve biodiversity is for ourselves, to create a stable future for human beings.’ At the heart of this is a belief that humanity is the sole species that matters, and possesses not only the creative technological capacity but also the moral will to solve all of its own problems. This is the neo-religious myth of human progress, rooted in neither science nor logic.
With most of the population now living in cities, Harvest festivals can seem archaic and quaint. At its worst Harvest can simply be a longing for a mythical rural idyll that never really existed, yet I believe we need to celebrate Harvest today more than ever. Here’s why.
It is easy to get increasingly technical about the year in, year out, work of nature conservation. So, from time to time it is good to be reminded, in an entirely different register, of what we are dealing with, of what creation is.
I recently returned from a lecturing visit to Hong Kong, Beijing and Yanji. Speaking about environmental sustainability to students and professors in three such very different contexts got me thinking afresh about China’s place in the world and its significance. My thoughts here are inevitably personal and subjective.
What do we mean by ‘abundant life’? Both Western and Eastern cultures tend to value ‘success’ in terms of prosperity, wealth, health, long-life, security, freedom and mobility. The pursuit of these goals is putting increasing pressure on the natural environment, and also on social and economic stability.
Recently a couple of us attended the Conservation Optimism summit in London. I went with an open mind, but concerned that this was simply an exercise in papering over the cracks: what room is there for optimism when 58% of the world’s wildlife has disappeared within my lifetime? I’ve been asking myself about hope, optimism and what gives us the ability to keep going even when things are bleak.
