Book Review: The Immanence of God in Larry Rasmussen's "Earth Community, Earth Ethics"

Locating Basic Conviction

            Larry Rasmussen takes us three-quarters of the way through his Earth Community, Earth Ethics before revealing the most important variable of his interpretive method: the immanent nature of God in the cross of Jesus Christ.  However, placing near the end of the book his in-depth discussions on the nature of God in Jesus Christ arguably does not subordinate this theology to an afterthought in his ethical argument.  Rather, the placement serves to illustrate the power and implications of a radically earthbound view of Christ.  Rasmussen’s entire treatise is an outworking of the theology of the cross that he details in the later chapters of Part II on Martin Luther and Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  Luther’s and Bonhoeffer’s insights on the immanence of God through the cross are powerfully illustrated by looking both back and forward on the path that Rasmussen treks through the book.  What is subtly implied throughout much of the book is finally made explicit in these chapters on the nature of God in Christ.  In the final analysis, though, I wonder if Rasmussen’s sensitivity to ecumenical and multi-faith audiences inadvertently undermines some of the power and thrust of his argument, an argument that is remarkably cohesive throughout the book.

Earth Implications for an Immanent God

            Rasmussen sets out a key aspect of the nature of God in the chapter “Returning to Our Senses” (pp. 270-281).  He uses the theological concept of finitum capax infiniti to show that “being with the gracious God means loving the earth” (p. 272).  In brief, finitum capax infiniti is the Lutheran understanding (argued by Luther and Bonhoeffer, Rasmussen shows) that “the finite bears the infinite and the transcendent is utterly immanent” (p. 272).  This is in contrast to the Calvinist view (and advocated by Barth), which insists just the opposite: “the finite cannot hold the infinite (finitum non capax infiniti)” (p. 272).  The Reformed concern is to proclaim and maintain God’s majesty by placing him at a distance; Lutherans want to proclaim this same majesty, but by bringing God utterly close.  Rasmussen’s summary of infinitum capax infiniti is also, I believe, an apt statement of the theme from Part I of the book: “God is pegged to the earth.  So if you would experience God, you must fall in love with earth” (p. 273).  Part I “Earth Scan” is just such an exercise in falling in love with earth.

            “Earth Scan” comprises just about half of Rasmussen’s material in the book.  In this section, he sets the stage for his pinnacle claim of sustainability by offering a compelling history of Earth’s creation – and of humanity’s recent abuse.  While it is the composite of “Earth Scan” that really makes the case for “falling in love with earth,” there is presently room only to engage with one of Rasmussen’s metaphors.  By describing Earth as “A Slow Womb” (pp. 25-37), Rasmussen offers Earth as a living image of intimacy and dependency.  There is no life without the cradle of the womb; earth’s is a history of formation, growth, and life, and humankind has no history apart from what the earth has provided.  And yet, all so recently and all so quickly, “Think how the crown of earth’s creation / Will murder that which gave him birth, / Ripping out the slow womb of earth” (Vikam Seth’s The Golden Gate, footnote 1, p. 25).  Rasmussen’s scan of earth is a poignant commentary on Seth’s poem.  Rasmussen describes an awesome, mysterious, and lovely earth, and then shows its violent destruction at the hands of humankind.  His underlying argument, then, is that if humanity would love the earth – which humanity should because it was birthed by the earth – then humankind should do everything possible to protect and sustain the earth.  Further, by later arguing for the theological concept of finitum capax infiniti, Rasmussen implicitly connects experiencing God with loving earth.

            I connect Part II “Earth Faith” of Rasmussen’s book with his chapter “The Cross of Reality” (pp. 283-294).  This chapter in particular sets a basic conviction for the nature of God that can serve as a foundation for Rasmussen’s vision of earth community.  It is a unique and unifying chapter because it describes the earth-bound revelation of God in Jesus, the Christ of Nazareth.  Rasmussen is more precisely interested in whether or not the symbols of Jesus’ cross and resurrection add to a formative understanding of loving the earth.  He writes, “In Jesus, we see the kind of God God is” (p. 284).  While we may expect to see a majestic God in glory, power, and triumph, in Jesus we see a God, says Luther, “in weakness and wretchedness, in darkness, failure, sorrow, and despair” (p. 284).  Certainly God is more than this – God is the God of not just the cross but of resurrection – but God’s presence in the turmoil and pain also means that God is there in a loving and saving way.

            It is not enough to just fall in love with the earth, Rasmussen argues.  Earth faith means falling in love with Jesus as well (p. 284).  When we do this, our attention shifts to a new and decisive way of approaching ethics.  Instead of focusing on our own resources and our own power to effect good, the way of Jesus means, “as the starting point itself, entering into the predicaments of others who suffer” (285).  Rasmussen’s earth faith is saturated in compassion – in suffering-with.  There is a simple reason for this: “Until we enter the places of suffering and experience them with those who are entangled there, as God does, we will not be co-redemptive” (p. 286).  Creation will not be healed apart from humankind entering in and experiencing earth’s suffering.  But there is hope here because God is present in the twisted pain of creation’s suffering (p. 287).

            Rasmussen’s basic conviction of God necessitates that we love the earth and that we enter into the suffering of the earth in order to participate in its redemption.  Part III “Earth Community” is a final outworking of the Lutheran conviction that Christ stood “at the center of life” (307).  Rasmussen turns to Bonhoeffer’s theology in the chapter “Song of Songs” (pp. 295-316) to set the stage for an earth ethic of sustainability.  Bonhoeffer’s is a “cosmic Christ, ‘in whom all things cohere’ (Col. 1:17) and in whom ‘the fullness of God was pleased to dwell’ (Col. 1:19)” (p. 299).  The reality of Christ at the center of life means that one cannot experience the reality of God without the reality of the world.  Yet, the fullness of reality is only Jesus Christ, the center of “nature, humanity, and history” (p. 299).  Salvation and redemption are cosmic concepts, where “enslaved nature and broken humanity are redeemed together” (p. 299).  An earth community committed to sustainability can do so with the reality of Jesus Christ at the center of all of life.  Christ at the center means responsibility, action, justice, and compassion.  It means casting off “otherworldly” eyes and remaining grounded on Christ’s very earth (see p. 303).  It is this belief that drives the vision of sustainability for Rasmussen.

            Part III “Earth Action” is an exercise in placing Christ at the center of sustainable practices.  Rasmussen’s sketches of earth communities are implicit examples of the possibilities for embracing and living out the reality of Jesus Christ.  The Danish community of Kalundborg, for instance, exemplifies how businesses can work together to create “cradle-to-cradle” in place of “cradle-to-grave” designs for sustainability (p. 323).  This, then, is a redemptive community in the model of Christ, healing what was destructive to the earth (and to humans).  The suffering of the earth is addressed by abandoning the linear models of industrialization and turning to cyclical and spiral models “that mimic nature as a community” (p. 327).  Community is another key to Rasmussen’s earth ethic.  He rejects sustainable development as green globalism (see p. 328) and instead seeks to advocate for the local tending and healing of the earth.  This is not only healthy for the environment, it strengthens local communities and can provide avenues for holistic redemptive possibilities, in the model of Jesus Christ.

Making Explicit the Implicit

            In sum, Rasmussen argues for the necessity of a moral frame of sustainability: “A world within to match the world without is a requirement of sustainability itself” (p. 344).  Rasmussen reveals that the basic conviction of God as radically immanent supports a strong morality of loving care for the earth in the way and reality of Jesus Christ.  However, he is wont to avoid saying as much and as explicitly.  Rasmussen is after an earth ethic that appeals to and reaches a broad ecumenical and multi-religious constituency.  As such, he writes, “So while cosmologies do matter immensely – we know and act through guiding symbols in significant degree – what matters most are our actions themselves and the world of which they are part and parcel, whether or not they express who we are deep down” (p. 321).  This quote could serve as Rasmussen’s own critique of how I express my argument in this paper, but it also focuses my critique of Rasmussen.  While I suspect that Rasmussen may hold the Lutheran theology and symbols closer to his own heart and convictions than he readily reveals (hence my argument for “implicity”), he seems to argue ultimately that actions make much more of a difference than belief.  I think he makes this argument in part to cast as wide a net as possible for participation in his earth ethic.  He rightly draws on and affirms a wide variety of religious and cultural traditions in affirming earth-sustaining care.  In doing so, he is more interested in offering “symbols” and “stories” than truth claims.  This levels the playing field, but I wonder if it undermines somewhat the power of his argument.  I am not looking for exclusion of other cosmologies, but perhaps for a more unapologetic appropriation of his own.

            Another look at Bonhoeffer’s own theology of belief and obedience also calls into question Rasmussen’s claim that “what matters most are our actions themselves… whether or not they express who we are deep down” (p. 321).  In his book Discipleship, Bonhoeffer writes, “The concept of a situation in which faith is possible is only a description of the reality contained in the following two statements, both of which are equally true: only the believers obey, and only the obedient believe (Bonhoeffer, p. 63).  Here, Bonhoeffer binds faith to action in a way that I find problematic for Rasmussen’s emphasis on action above faith.  For Bonhoeffer, action can only come from a place of belief, just as belief must contain action if it is truly belief.  Partly, I think Rasmussen just wants people to step up and do something for the earth; figuring out one’s cosmology could take years – years that could be spent working towards earth-sustainability.  Also, I think Rasmussen again is proposing a universal earth ethic, and not just a Christian one.  But I would argue that connecting faith and action as Bonhoeffer does actually enhances action and participation in such things as earth care.  I am convinced that belief forms sustaining passion, which can drive an incredibly strong earth-sustaining work ethic.  If we neglect the hard work of indentifying our cosmological foundations, then I think that our action will not have the basis to overcome the persistent suffering that we are bound to face when working for sustainability (or, for that matter, any number of other ethical causes).  Working for the sustaining and ultimately the redemption of the earth requires a deeply held foundational cosmology.  I want to affirm Rasmussen’s description of the nature of God revealed through the reality of Jesus Christ as an effective and formative theology for furthering a sustaining earth ethic.  And I think his argument would be stronger – even ecumenically and multi-religiously stronger – if he explicitly did the same.