Earth Day, Good Friday collide
If I had to pick an animal to characterize the Roman Catholic Church, I think I'd go with the brave giant of the dog world, the St. Bernard.
For Lutherans, it might be the disciplined German Shepherd standing watch for the occasional St. Bernard tempted to take a nip from its own cask.
Baptists, meanwhile, could be likened to a "Heinz 57" pack, coming in all shapes and sizes and getting smarter and larger in number with each successive generation.
What then shall we say of Anglicans, especially those wacky American Episcopal types? Because I am one (and a priest to boot), I'm comfortable in telling you the best animal to symbolize the chief characteristic of Episcopalians is absolutely, without doubt, the ubiquitous house cat.
But one cat wouldn't quite express it. The Episcopal Church is more like a vast herd of cats.
Some sleep in the sun, content and happy. Others stay out late and hunt mice. Some hide in the hedge. Others walk the fence line, tails straight up in the air. And a few (with deep apologies to Rudyard Kipling) jump the hedge and walk by themselves because all things sacred and secular have become very much alike to them.
There's no better illustration of this than this week, when one of the holiest days on the Christian calendar, Good Friday, lands on one of the holiest of days of modern liberal secularism, Earth Day.
What's a progressive church cat to do?
Well, the Episcopal Church will try to celebrate both.
On the church's official website, we are told that it is a "profound coincidence" that Good Friday lands on Earth Day. The church tells its members "when Earth is degraded and species go extinct, a part of God's body experiences a different type of crucifixion, and another way of seeing and experiencing God is diminished."
Yeowee! A different type of crucifixion?
Did the Episcopal Church just attempt to meld a 1970s-inspired environmental movement with Good Friday, the beginning of the ancient drama of reconciliation between God and man?
Look, I'm a sleepy Episcocat, this I freely admit. I don't get worked up much anymore about cats going feral.
But this seems pretty wild.
Where's the merit in trying to combine Earth Day with Good Friday and what, exactly, might that look like?
"For God so loved the world he recycled his only son."
"On the night he was betrayed, our Lord Jesus Christ took bread, broke it, and told his disciples to beware a fossil-fuel-based economy."
"In all things there is a season, especially paper, plastic and glass. Use the bins provided and be glad in it."
"Lord of the universe, ruler of all, look with favor upon treaties that limit CO2 emissions. Punish Americans who ask why but forgive China, for they know not what they do."
With all due respect to the church for which I am especially fond, don't mix petty politics of the day with an observance of timeless religious significance.
Unless, of course, you're also OK with co-opting the Great Vigil of Easter to work in a few prayers about the Tea Party movement resurrecting the concept of a balanced budget.
"O Lord we beseech thee to protect us from all evil. Defund Planned Parenthood and National Public Radio so as to righteously bring our budget into balance, for this is a right and good thing to do."
You get the point.
Observe Good Friday on Good Friday. If you must celebrate Earth Day, do it on your own time.
Sherman Frederick (sfrederick@ reviewjournal.com), the former publisher of the Review-Journal and a member of the Nevada Newspaper Hall of Fame, writes a column for Stephens Media. Read his blog at www.lvrj.com/blogs/sherm.
