Lacunae

"The Epic of Gilgamesh" is an ancient Sumerian (read Mesopotamian, which is in the Fertile Crescent, which is defined in large part by the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers, which are in present-day Iraq) text that features, among other things, a story about a Great Flood that is very similar to the biblical story of Noah.

The Gilgamesh story was found by archaeologists who unearthed shards (pieces) of clay tablets which had writing on them. No entire, intact tablets have been found. Only pieces (shards, if you will).

Unfortunately, because only shards have been found, there are "holes" in "The Epic of Gilgamesh," sections of which scholars can only guess. The story, at that point might go one way or it might go another. No one is sure because of the gaps.

These gaps, in this context, are called lacunae. A single gap is a lacuna.

I did not know this word until yesterday, when I looked it up. I am reading a book by a scholar named Thomas Cahill about the Jews, their heritage, and the legacy they have given to all of us. Cahill used the word lacunae to describe the gaps in the ancient Gilgamesh story.

It got me to thinking about gaps (and I don't mean clothing stores).

There are gaps in my story, sections that are not filled in very well, where the meaning or significance of that part of the story can only be guessed at. Hidden, mysteriously tucked away in the recesses of the mind of God, are sections of my life that are now only really known to the Lord because they are lost to my memory and to the memories of those who were also a part of that leg of the journey.

But I find comfort that God is Lord of the Lacunae. He is God of the Gaps.

And, again, I don't mean clothing stores.

Footprints (Pawprints, really)

You may have run across the poem, "Footprints in the Sand," which describes Jesus' faithful support and "favor" toward each one of us. This isn't about that.

This post is about something that has been on my mind a lot over the past week.

When our plane from Miami landed in Chicago last Tuesday, on the final leg of our journey back from a week in the Dominican Republic, my phone chirped as soon as I turned it on. I had a message from someone whose number I did not recognize.

The voicemail was from the Bremen Police Department, asking if I could give them a call back. I did--immediately. The officer who answered told me there had been an accidental shooting involving a high school student. Not good news.

The officer could not, offer any additional information because I was not able to be "on site" anytime soon, nor did I ask him to. It's way too easy for the rumor mill to crank up.

Sad to say, but a student was killed in an accidental shooting that took place in a house only a few hundred yards from our house.

I was in the school the next morning, praying for teachers and students as they faced another tragic accident and death to a Bremen student. I spoke with many students and even had the chance to speak and pray at an assembly attended by the entire student body and faculty.

The entire event dredged up memories of past accidents, which have been far too frequent for a stretch of time that is much too long.

But ... here's what's been on my mind--an image really--the image that is burned into my mind and I cannot shake it.

When Chad Beeson was killed (one of the Three Cs), I presided over his funeral. A sad time. A sad day. But the power of God was in the air.

I rode in the hearse that held Chad's body as we made our way from the church (Community Gospel) to the Police Station (where the "final call" was broadcast) and finally to the cemetery. It was a front row seat to some powerful events.

We rode along the south side of the school block on our way to the Police Station. As you may know, that side of the block has paw prints painted on the road, Bremen Lions paws, that have the numbers of the players on the football team painted on them, as well as the names of the coaches and managers.

Chad, Corey and Casey were all killed in an automobile accident while on the way back to Bremen after a football sectional playoff game. They kept stats for the coaches and team. Every week. Home and away.

When the hearse turned the corner from Bowen Avenue onto Grant Street there, standing on the paw print that had their number, were members of the Bremen football team, standing silently in honor of Chad, giving thanks in their own way for all of his dedication and devotion to them and to the football program.

That's the image that won't let me go--those young men standing in honor of Chad and his memory.

Like silent sentinels, they stood. An awesome thing to see and experience.

I can imagine the thoughts and feelings of those who rode in the funeral procession that day. The power of a silent witness. A thanks spoken without words, just a presence.

In the wake of Justin Fretz's recent death, as well as the deaths of other Bremen students, and the deaths that Jan and I have faced in our immediate families this past year, it is comforting to know that the Lord does not ever miss attending to our grief with His love and presence.

I drive by those paw prints every Monday through Friday. Recently, I am reminded of God's steadfast love, standing sentinel over my life and the life of every person. I see Jesus.

And then I go workout. Humble. Thankful.

Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed--not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence--continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, [13] for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose.--Philippians 2:12-13 (NIV)

Here's that team ...

Back From the DR

We made it back from the Dominican Republic on Tuesday, January 27, safe and sound. The day was long, as it often is when you travel these days, but it was good to be back in COLD Indiana at the end of the day.

We traveled the last leg of our journey, from the Bypass down 331 to Bremen, with light flurries. We kept joking that the snow looked like sand on the beach, reminding ourselves that the day before we HAD been on the beach, in Dorada on the north shore of the island of Hispanola, which is home to both Haiti and the DR.

It was 85 degrees on Monday, when we went to Darada Beach (playa in Spanish).

My face is peeling today (Thursday, January 29) from too much sun. But that's the price you pay--going to the beach in January!

We completed the work we went to the DR to accomplish--the painting of the inside of the new Mission House in Hato Mayor. What a place! There are four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a kitchen, dining room and living room, with an entrance area and two balconies. There are also stairs going up to the roof, which will someday have a campo de casa, which is like a pavilion on the roof.

It is good to be back home.

Enjoy the photos included in this post. They are of the new Mission House, inside and out, as we as the guys who went on the trip posing at the beach.

Day 2 In the DR

Day 2 in Hato Mayor startedwith a trip into Santiago to purchase paint and painting supplies, along with medicine cabinets for the bathrooms. Breakfast was cheese, fig newton-like cookies, juice and some fruit. It was great!

We headed into Santiago with Pedrito at 8:30 a.m. and didn't return until almost noon, which meant it was close to lunchtime! We had a great lunch of Con Salo, which is a stew with yucca, potatoes, plantains and some pork. You put the stew on rice in a bowl and eat up! We also had some quacamole, as always.

We then proceeded to paint the four bedrooms and cut in the rest of the rooms. Many hands made light work.

It has been overcast all day, but it is still great weather for shorts and a t-shirt!

We are done painting for the day and are awaiting dinner, which will include fried plantains. If you've never had fried plantains all I can tell you is , "Yummy!"

Tomorrow we paint all day long.

It has been great sitting on the gallerias on the second floor and waving to all of the people going by. We had a great time with some police who drove by and then stopped. They appeared to be quite entertained by us (and we by them).

Life is slower here, the pace more of a walking pace, rather than a driving pace. Refreshing.

I'll try to post again to tomorrow. Thanks for your prayers.

First Installment from Hato Mayor

We made it!

We are in Hato Mayor, having arrived late last night (Tuesday). We were delayed getting out of Miami, so we were so late we could not get the vans we had reserved. Instead, we took three taxis (vans) to Hato Mayor, which is only 10 minutes from the airport.

We ate a wonderful meal of yucca and fried salami before heading off to bed. We had to put all of our air mattresses together, blow them up and settle in. We didn´t get to bed until 1 a.m., but it was good to get horizontal.

The Lord was good yesterday. We were caught in a major lake effect snowstorm on I94, which had us worried we were going to miss our flight. Not a good feeling. But once we got to I294 the snow cleared and it was a fast trip to the parking garage.

This morning, we had to go back to the airport and get the two vans we are renting.

This internet cafe is only three houses down from the Marmolejos house, which looks great, by the way.

The house now has four bedrooms and three bathrooms, along with a living room, dining room and kitchen. The kitchen is not in place yet and will require more money and time than we have this trip.

As I write, the ceiling fans and lights are being installed in the bedrooms upstairs. The stores are closed today because of a national holiday, so we won´t be able to get any painting done today. Tomorrow we paint!

Everyone is enjoying the sunny weather. It is about 85 degrees today. Last night it probably got down to the low 60s, which was great sleeping weather.

Our group includes Todd Huff, Dori Thomas, Steve and Amy Kiefer, Mike and Tona Molebash, Howard and Lucy Scott, Jeff Meixel, Roxanne Roschek, Clella Martin and yours truly.

Our major theme for this trip is, ¨Christ working in me- Christ working through me.¨

Please join us in our prayer, which is to see the Lord work in us in such a way that others can see and have their attention directed to the Lord we serve, who loves us with an everlasting love and fills us with grace.

I´ll try to post again real soon.

If you want to send an email to me (or get news to someone else in our group), then send it to jimmorse52@yahoo.com

Welcome Vicarious Travelers to the DR!

Welcome to this online journal of our trip to the Dominican Republic.

This is being posted on Monday, January 19, 2009. We leave tomorrow for Hato Mayor, which is a barrio outside Santiago. We will be in the DR tomorrow night, after a long day of travel!

The photo on this post is of the house that has become a "mission house" for Horizonites and others. It is the second floor of the existing house of Pedrito and Arelis, who are the parents of Job Marmolejos (who is married to Laura and they, together, are the parents of Jailen).

We will be painting the house, both inside and out, while we are in Hato Mayor. You can see the rebar sticking up on the second storey, as well as the first course of cinder block, which is for the outside walls.

There are 12 of us making the trip. You can check here for updates to see what new things have happened and what might be in the works.

Thanks for your prayers. We have been asking this of the Lord, that He might work IN us and that He might work THROUGH us.

You can email me at jimmorse52@yahoo.com

Thanks for checking in.

Later, amigo.

The "How Much More" of Christmas

Christmas is about God sending His Son to earth to inaugurate the Kingdom of God, which will result in the restoration of all things, including me. (And I need it!)

Given the mess that I and the world are in, what more could I/we ask for?

But the amazing thing is that Jesus, and the restoration He both is and brings, is not good enough for many (embarassingly, even me at times). We want more.

The question for me is: How much more?

When I consider Christmas and am honest with myself, there is no more "more." Jesus is enough. Jesus is more than enough.

Now I've just got to live that truth.

Blessed

Genesis 5:2 (NCV) He created them male and female, and on that day he blessed them and named them human beings.

God is good.

God is a blessing machine.

Psalm 118:24 (NCV)
This is the day that the Lord has made.
Let us rejoice and be glad today!

It is easy to miss the blessedness of each day. But the larger (perhaps even the largest) truth is that I AM BLESSED.

Sure, life is hard and challenging, painful even. But that does not mean that God is not blessing me, along with creation and every person in it.

Frustratingly, for some, is the fact that God is such a Blesser that He blesses everyone, regardless of whether they acknowledge Him or bless Him back.

Jesus mentioned this when He spoke of the wheat and weeds.

Matthew 13:24-30 (NIV) Jesus told them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. [25] But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. [26] When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared. [27] "The owner's servants came to him and said, 'Sir, didn't you sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?' [28] " 'An enemy did this,' he replied. "The servants asked him, 'Do you want us to go and pull them up?' [29] " 'No,' he answered, 'because while you are pulling the weeds, you may root up the wheat with them. [30] Let both grow together until the harvest. At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.' "

So the wheat and weeds grow up together, until the time for sorting comes. That will be the day of justice; the day that our hearts long for, having heard the voice of justice speaking as if from a great distance. Perhaps that voice is heard only as a faint echo, but it is still the voice of Justice that echoes through the ages, telling us of a day that will come when all will be made right. That will be the day when heaven and earth are renewed and conjoined.

God's goodness washes over me every moment of my life--and I stand blessed before God and creation.

That's good news. I don't care who you are.

Heaven & Earth

The spheres at right are in the Map Room of the Doge's Palace in Venice, Italy. The Doge was the ruler of Venice in days gone by.

One sphere is earth, the terrestrial sphere, and the other is the celestial sphere, in other words--heaven.

I did not know that either this room or these spheres existed until I walked into the Map Room this summer. I read the placard describing the room and nearly fell to my knees when I turned around and beheld the spheres.

I had been considering for a while that heaven and earth are similar in many ways--populated by embodied "souls," with trees and most of the other features of nature that delineate our terrestrial orb.

Is it possible that heaven and earth are in close proximity to each other? Jesus said, when he taught about his mission and explained his purpose in preaching and teaching, "The kingdom of God is near."

If heaven is where God is and where His will is perfectly done (and it is: Matthew 6:9-10 (NIV) "This, then, is how you should pray: 'Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, [10] your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. '") then it is not such a stretch, to my way of thinking, to consider the possibility that heaven is, perhaps, another dimension of human and natural existence.

Sounds like science fiction, doesn't it?

But what if the orbs/spheres that are in the Doge's Palace in Venice are, as near as possible, a close physical approximation of the relationship between heaven and earth?

The Financial Crisis

Much can and probably should be said about the current financial crisis that is enveloping our nation and world. Even though gas prices are going down ($2.99/gallon in Plymouth today) the stock market continues its downward plummet, having already lost about a third of its value, compared to where it was just a few long weeks ago.

Presidential candidates offer solutions that are not solutions. They act as if they alone can lead us out of this mess, when of course it is all rhetoric.

I found a couple of biblical quotes that speak, I think, to the current testimony to greed and irresponsible (at the very least) behavior of those who have "been in charge." But let's not forget that we, the American people, have been more than happy to prop up the economy with credit, living beyond our means and building up our debt rather than our savings. Hardly anyone has clean hands.

Ezekiel 22:12 (NLT) "There are hired murderers, loan racketeers, and extortioners everywhere! They never even think of me and my commands, says the Sovereign Lord."

The pain is going to hit everyone, in one way or another. The chickens have, indeed, come home to roost.

But isn't that the way it's supposed to be? When we make mistakes, whether consciously or not, the consequences are ours to bear.

Ezekiel 23:35 (Living) "Because you have forgotten me and turned your backs on me, therefore you must bear the consequence of all your sin."

But this is also a time of opportunity. It is a time when the values and principles of the church, of followers of Jesus, come to the fore and we have the chance to act out the values of hospitality, generosity and community. We now have a God-given opportunity to help our neighbors.

Perhaps this will be the catalyst for a spiritual awakening in America, perhaps even around the world.

As scripture says: 1 Tim. 6:10 (NIV) For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.

Many griefs.

Maybe we will turn from money as our ambition to loving the Lord and following His command to love others.

Maybe we will turn our focus from buying and selling and instead focus on proclaiming the Lord's economy of abundance released through love.

Maybe we will grasp yet another opportunity to live kingdom-focused so that God's will "will be done on earth as it is in heaven."

Maybe ...

"Jumping" Cholla

(Sorry the text runs together further on in this post. Couldn't fix it.)

My parents moved to "The Valley of the Sun" in Arizona in 1979, when Arizona was still "The Wild, Wild West." Most pickups had a gun rack in the rear window, and it was filled with a rifle or two. Just about every weekend saw a shootout in the back parking lot of some bar somewhere in the valley. Bodies were found out in the desert all the time (still are), usually there as a result of foul play. It was a good place to keep your door locked and the shades drawn.

The Valley of the Sun is the huge valley that has Phoenix in the center and is ringed by majestic mountains (purple mountain majesties). Nestled at the base of the mountains to the north is Luke Air Force Base, where they train pilots both foreign and domestic. When the U.S. sells a plane to one of our allies, we also sell the training so the other country's pilots can then fly the thing. Sounds like a sound idea to me. We used to be able (before 9/11) to go out to the end of the runway at Luke and watch the fighter jets do "touch and goes." That is when the planes glide in like they are going to land and, just before they would touch the ground, they hit the afterburners and catapult themselves up, up and away. The sound is deafening. Power, sheer power. You hear the sound ... and you feel it, too.

One of the first things my father did when I visited them in December of 1980 was point out the "Jumping" Cholla (pronounced "choya") cactus (there is one pictured at the top). These innocuous-looking desert plants are really just called cholla cactus. But it's the "jumping" part of the name that makes these things really interesting.

As you can see, this cactus is located in an area that gets a lot of foot traffic ... literally. That red section in the background that shows up about halfway up the cactus is a walking/running track that is located right next to the parking lot of the Johnson Recreation Center. The Rec Center includes a pool, weight room, saunas, tennis courts, bowling lanes, pool and billiards, arts and crafts and a whole bunch of other venues. In back of the walking/running track ( a 1/4 mile loop) is the bacci (pronounced "bochi") courts.

Lots of people hang out in this area, especially during the winter. The photo above was taken in late September, when it was 100 degrees. Not a lot of people on the walking/running track in 100 degree heat.

But the "Jumping" Cholla is there.

It's called "jumping" because little pieces will break off this kind of cactus and roll around, pushed by the wind. And invariably, these little clusters of pernicious cactus needles will end up on a pants leg, a shoe, or even directly on the skin of someone's leg (because they're wearing shorts).

The needles of the cholla are like the needles of a porcupine, then "worm" their way in, the spines enabling the needle to drill into whatever it attaches to. The stories are told of desert travelers getting a cluster of cholla needles on their boots and then finding one of the needles worming its way into a toe. The needle drilled through the boot leather and continued to work its way in, eventually hitting flesh. Ouch! Makes for a nasty infection, sometimes life-threatening when off the beaten path and far from medical help.

Needless to say, it's best to steer clear of these bad boys of the desert. They intend to hurt you. They might look harmless, but they are nasty when it comes to self-defense.

Here's the thought, or question: Why do people put nasty plants like these in places where there are lots of people? Do they have a video camera nearby that catches the moment when a cluster of cholla needles "jumps" onto someone, and then they laugh with sick joy as it happens, rubbing their hands together as they cackle a hideous laugh? Makes me wonder.

And "Jumping" Chollas make for a good perimeter security fence. Plant a bunch of these around your house and you won't have to worry about intruders. They will steer clear of these traveling infection needles. You can't find a more effective "Do Not Enter" sign.

The "Jumping" Cholla is a pretty-looking plant, almost benign in appearance. But cactus-huggers beware! There's danger in them-there needles!

And ... knowing all of this, what kind of person would put one of these in their front yard, next to the sidewalk, where a passerby could inadvertently brush his/her arm/sleeve and drag a needle cluster along for the rest of the walk, totally unaware they've got some real danger aboard?

Chollas are an inexpensive cactus for landscaping. But, really. Go out and buy a real cactus, you sicko!

(What was God thinking when He made these?! Amusement? Just creative? Needed something to go with the "Praying Mantis" or the Venus Fly Trap?)

Desert Wanderings

Deserts are arid, minimal water, and they can be either hot or cold (like a lot of arid people I know!).

But it's in deserts that much is learned, if we're willing to listen and "enter the experience." The Israelites wandered in the desert wilderness. Jesus was in the desert wilderness during his temptation. The desert is the place where we learn to do without, where we are stripped of our "support system" and make our stand in a place of scarcity, rather than the abundance we prefer.

But it's the abundance, especially of physical/material things that blind us from our spiritual poverty, or even our emotional, relational, and societal poverty. If it's in being poor that our wealth is proclaimed, then the desert is a place where we become rich. Know what I mean?

I'm in the desert this week; in Arizona, in the Valley of the Sun. And there is plenty of sun.

At the pool yesterday, while it was 100 degrees, I heard one man exclaim that he was going to go inside because, "I'm cold. The wind is blowing too hard." My mouth became parched, it was open so long in astonishment! (And with the wind blowing hot, arid air.) I was sitting there in the heat and I would have been sweating if it hadn't been so dry. The humidity is around 15-17%, which is like almost totally dry air. Not many clouds in the sky.

So I wasn't sweating. But I was hot, sitting there in the sun, letting the heat warm my joints and soak into me. Winter in Indiana will come soon enough and heat will be welcome.

I am here visiting my mother, who transitioned from the nursing home back to her own house. It has been a week of challenges, as my weakened mom struggles to regain her strength. Breathing is her main problem, and it's a big one. There have been times when the breath of life has been in short supply, not able to make it through her constricted airways and make it to her bloodstream because of damaged and congested lungs. Not a pretty picture. Breaks your heart to hear someone struggling to take every single breath. Makes you thankful for the ability to breath.

When the breath of life escapes you, you are in a desert. A place of scarcity.

It gets your attention!

And God says, "Now that I've got your attention, while you're here, wandering around wondering if your 'lostness' will ever end, let's do business. Let me be your life, even though all you want is your next breath."

And then ... and then ... God blesses us with His presence. And that's enough.

He meets us in the tabernacle of our bodies, that holy place where His Spirit comforts us and fills us with Life, Life we cannot give ourselves. That Spirit whose very name is "breath" fills us with Life.

I return to Bremen tomorrow.

Flying on air.

Faster than the wind.

(Really?)

Out of the desert ... or so I think.

God is laughing.

The Music In the River

A few weeks ago I led a retreat in Landgrove, Vermont. Landgrove is an isolated town in the southern part of the Green Mountain State that has no paved roads. All the roads are gravel--and that's the way they like it!


We stayed in the "Lower Barn," which is a barn that was converted to housing livestock to housing human beings sometime in the 1930's or so. It is called the Lower Barn because the family that owns it also, at one time, owned the other barn associated with it, which is further up the hill.


Hence, the one further up the hill is called the "Upper Barn." It is now owned by the woman who played the normal cousin, Marilyn, on "The Munsters" television show.


Behind both the Lower Barn and the Upper Barn runs the West River, a rock-strewn stretch of mountain river that has a constant murmur and gurgle. When it rains and the level of the river rises, the sound becomes more than a lullaby; it is a real presence.


A photo looking off the back deck of the Lower Barn is included with this post. It shows just how close the river is and what it looks like, rocks and all.


There have been reports that people can hear music when the doors that lead to the deck are open. It is faint, not easily heard, and if the truth be told, rather eerie. Even disconcerting.


I have heard the music for years, mostly because I've spent considerable time at the Lower Barn--alone.


But my wife Jan heard the music a couple of years ago when she, too, spent some time alone at the Lower Barn.


This summer, Clella heard the music when she was at the Lower Barn--alone--while the rest of us were off on a nighttime jaunt on Sheep Hill. When we returned I went in to check on Clella to see how she was. When I entered the room, Clella sat up in bed, her face literally as white as a sheet. Her eyes were wide and a look of terror was there.


Clella had heard the music. It didn't bring peace to her.


Why? Probably because it is disconcerting to hear music when none is playing, especially when no one else is there. Just a guess.


What's up with the music?


Here is my guess: it is the music of the earth, of creation, that seeps into our conscious minds once in a while. In a sense, it is God talking through His creation, which cannot help but sing praise to the One who is the Creator of all things.


Here's how Isaiah describes it: Sing for joy, O heavens! Rejoice, O earth! Burst into song, O mountains! For the Lord has comforted his people and will have compassion on them in their sorrow. Isaiah 49:13 (NLT)


When Jesus was riding into Jerusalem and the people were shouting, "Hosanna!," the religious leaders told Jesus to silence the crowd. He responded, "I tell you, if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out." Luke 19:40 (NIV)


Perhaps, just perhaps, the river is singing and even shouting praise to the One who is the Maker and who is sovereign over all things.


Perhaps, just perhaps, we, when we are still enough, will hear, beneath the deafening cacophony of our worries and anxieties, the music of creation singing praise to its Creator.


To make it what it really is--perhaps, just perhaps, we are hearing the stones and the water cry out their praise to Jesus. He did say, didn't he, that you can silence the praises of people, but when you do, creation will pick up the tune and continue giving praise and worship to God--just because He is who He is and because He deserves it.


Is it really all about Jesus, though? Yes.


He [Jesus] is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. Colossians 1:15-17 (NIV)


Read that passage over carefully. "By him all things were created." "All things were created by him and for him." "In him all things hold together."


The music of the river gives evidence to the sinew of the world, the universe, all creation--Jesus.

It all has been created by Him, through Him and for Him. It's His.


And His creation does what it wants to do: Sing back to Him.


It's really cool when you get the chance to listen in.

What Color Are Christians?

Sounds like a silly question, doesn't it?

But those who follow Jesus know that God's mission in Christ is the restoration of all things and that, in the meantime, we are to be stewards (let's just call ourselves gardeners) of God's good creation. (It must be good if the Lord was embodied here, being so physical/material/natural and all.)

Such an understanding and vocation (from the Latin vox, which means "voice; so we are to be the "voice" of God speaking to and into a world that groans to be made right again) makes all of us artists of a sort.

We create (Or is it re-create? No, I think it's create.) an ecosystem/environment that reflects the wholeness and goodness intended by God. As creators (co-creators), we reflect accurately the reality that we are made in the image of God, who is inherently creative (being "the Creator" and all).

We not only add to the beauty of creation, we also preserve the natural environment and shape our habitats in such a way as to prepare them and ourselves for the day when God will re-inhabit the renewed earth. Yes, we will go back to the garden, in a sense. It will be the New Garden, called Heaven.

So, back to the question.

What color are Christians?

To borrow the eco-slang of the day: Christians are green.