By: Katie Brown

During the early 20th century, business magnate Julius Rosenwald demonstrated the Biblical values of his Jewish faith—especially tzedakah (charity), mishpat (justice), and tikkun olam (repair of the world)—through his leadership in the creation of the Rosenwald Schools. 
These institutions, organized by Booker T. Washington’s Tuskegee Institute and funded by Rosenwald, were established to provide adequate education to Black Americans prevented from accessing public schools throughout the segregated South. Rosenwald worked tirelessly to ensure that the rights of all Americans were respected.
All Americans benefit from learning about both our insidious history of discrimination and the hard-won efforts to which we owe our present state of liberty. As the visceral memory of Jim Crow fades from our collective memory, a subtle yet unique danger appears. Many of the freedoms which we currently enjoy were bitterly contested, and only continue to enjoy broad respect because of individual heroism and advocacy. The imperative for successive generations to remember the past to protect the present can vanish in a state of comfort, and the ruinous effects of such moral laxity are thoroughly unacceptable. 
As a Catholic, I admire Pope Benedict XVI’s assertion that “love for widows and orphans, prisoners, and the sick and needy of every kind, is as essential as the ministry of the sacraments and preaching of the Gospel.” The exhortation in the Hebrew Bible to love one’s neighbor—a moral teaching cherished by Christians, Jews, and secular persons alike—requires all people to take responsibility for the state of one’s community. If the community fails to recall its past failings, it widens the possibility for such conflict to arise again in the future.
To wit, the poverty and widespread lack of opportunity preceding the creation of the Rosenwald Schools largely resulted from general apathy towards the protection of Black civil rights. At first, Reconstruction efforts to incorporate African Americans into the life of the nation after emancipation were extremely successful. South Carolina’s majority-Black state legislature instituted the first public schools, Mississippi and Louisiana both had well-respected Black senators, and the Freedmen's Bureau oversaw the supply of food, medicine, and other welfare services to formerly enslaved persons in order to eradicate poverty in this community. 
Despite these early successes, Reconstruction was eventually abandoned and the Plessy v. Ferguson Supreme Court decision in 1896 made racially segregated public institutions the law of the land. Consequently, millions of Black children were prevented from accessing the public schools to which they were legally entitled.
Undeterred by the overwhelming acceptance of disparate treatment towards Black Americans, Rosenwald used the fortune he accrued as a chief executive for Sears to address the pervasive racial discrimination. His concern for African-Americans was heavily influenced by his Judaism and the horrors of European antisemitism, which he viewed as analogous to the experience of African Americans. 
He became personally interested in Booker T. Washington after reading his biography during the summer of 1910, and the two quickly began a friendship which featured prominently in the effort to unravel segregation. Rosenwald provided seed funding that eventually constructed 5,300 schools in areas where Black children had little or no access to education. Before the Brown v. Board of Education decision in 1954, almost 30% of Black students in the South were educated in a Rosenwald School. 
These institutions fundamentally changed the trajectory of the country. Luminaries such as Maya Angelou, Pauli Murray, Medgar Evers, and John Lewis all received instruction in schools created by Rosenwald’s largesse. He also helped fund much of the litigation led by the NAACP Legal Defense Fund to eventually destroy the legal principle of “separate but equal” for good. 
Despite Rosenwald's incredible accomplishments, the remains of the schools bearing his name have fallen into disrepair, and his legacy continues to fade from our collective cultural memory. This is clearly unacceptable.
A National Historic Park Campaign, the National Parks Conservation Association, and the National Trust for Historic Preservation are pushing for the designation of a national park to honor his life’s work. The current congressional proposal seeks to create a center in Chicago providing visitors with information about Rosenwald’s life while also providing funds to preserve a few of the remaining schools in the South. Such a park would act as a buttress against his erasure from history. 
As a Black Catholic man deeply motivated by the example of those who honored Jesus’ injunction to serve the “least of these,” I heartily encourage all Americans to support this effort and call on their congressional representatives to support the creation of this national park. As we strive to create a more perfect union by preserving these important vestiges of the past, we harken to the wisdom of the prophet Joel, who instructs us: “Tell your children about it in the years to come, and let your children tell their children. Pass the story down from generation to generation.” 

Read the original post, and more, by Dr. Santmire on his blog, "Walking Thoughts".
I first heard about the MIT social scientist, Sherry Turkle, in a radio news report, while my wife and I were stalled in commuter traffic. This was the story. She had required her students to turn off their electronic devices during her lectures. In the process, she had elicited much resistance. So I was not surprised to learn from a recent op-ed essay (Mattia Ferraresi, Boston Globe, September 29, 2024, K 5) that Turkle has more recently spoken out against the alienating effects of what she called constant connectivity, arguing “that people are condemned to be ‘forever elsewhere’ due to the dopamine lure of their screens.”

I have a response. Put down your screen and take a walk in the woods. I’m well aware that going out into the woods isn’t a fresh idea. I’m in very good company here. Henry David Thoreau once wrote a compelling essay on walking. And he did a lot of it in Concord and also elsewhere, from strolling along the beaches of Cape Cod to climbing the arduous heights of Mt. Katadn in Maine. John Muir likewise walked profusely and wrote about that experience profusely, as in his essay, “A Thousand Mile Walk to the Gulf.” I welcome all that kind of attention to walking. I think that one cannot say too much in favor of the practice, especially for folks of my advanced age.
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Which prompts me, often these days, to venture out on many – very modest – walks of my own, especially the kind that often preoccupy me on the forest paths around my family’s old farmhouse in rural, southwestern Maine. I have written about those walks often.

But I’m not sure whether I have, by that writing, really reached many – any? – in today’s younger generations. Why? Those busy folks may be too preoccupied with their phones.

Be that as it may, I’m not going to give up celebrating walking whenever I can, because, in addition to everything else, I believe – with Thoreau and Muir – that walking can be a charged spiritual discipline, particularly for those who are seeking to follow the Christian way.
Christianity is a profoundly earthly religion. God Godself has taken on flesh, according to the witness of the Gospel of John (1:14). Christian creeds, in the same spirit, insist on “the resurrection of the body.” And everything ends, according to the witness of the Bible, with the dawning of a new heavens and a new earth. For Christianity, matter matters.

And Christianity has always been a religion on-the-way, a pilgrimage religion. My own daughter-in-law is currently walking the French Way of the Camino de Santiago de Compostela, with countless other pilgrims.
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When I was a child, and my mind would on occasion drift off during Sunday sermons, I sometimes wondered what heaven would, one day, be like. I now firmly believe that one thing that the saints will be doing in the time of the heavenly new creation of all things on the Last Day will be this: some, if not all, will be found walking in the heavenly woods, with, I imagine, no screens in hand.

by Reverend F.L Crouther, New Covenant Baptist Church, Wisconsin

Cleaning up heavy-duty truck pollution is an important step in protecting the health of our communities in Wisconsin, particularly Black Communities and Communities of Color.

Interstate 43, which dissects Black Communities in Milwaukee, is a tragic example of how discriminatory land use and transportation policies have resulted in the burden of diesel pollution exposure to be borne more heavily by Communities of Color. Highways have been placed through and in Black and Brown neighborhoods, and the exposure to vehicle pollution has led to long-term respiratory and cardiovascular health issues. For these communities who are more likely to live near freeways, trucking corridors, and freight hubs, pollution from medium- and heavy-duty trucks and buses can be deadly. 

The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) has an opportunity to help address the injustice of pollution and climate change by enacting the strongest possible federal heavy-duty truck standards. Transportation is the largest source of carbon emissions in the US and moving our trucks and buses to zero emission vehicles puts us on a path to justice.

As a Christian and Black pastor, I care about protecting God's creation—this means not only stopping pollution and fighting climate change, but also protecting human health. Having non-polluting heavy-duty trucks is important for Black Communities as our lives depend on it. In a study conducted by EPA scientists, it was recognized that when it comes to air pollution, the health burden on African Americans is 54 percent higher than the health burden on the American population overall.
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Protecting families and vulnerable communities is of critical importance to the faith community. Our role as faith leaders is to protect and minister to our congregants. To tend to the sick in our communities, and to become advocates for protecting human health and life. When our children and neighbors suffer from respiratory illnesses like asthma, we all suffer. Air pollution is an environmental justice issue; we can’t live freely if we can’t breathe freely.

​Clean heavy-duty truck standards can help clean up God’s air and reduce the carbon pollution that is the main driver of climate change. The Biden Administration now has the opportunity to take action for the benefit of all our communities. With 25 million Americans, including 6.3 million children, suffering from asthma, we can ill afford more air pollution. Enacting zero-emission heavy-duty truck standards will decrease pollution in Wisconsin communities, protect our children’s health and help address climate change.
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By: Rev. Rahsaan Armand, Mount Zion Missionary Baptist Church, Clarksburg, WV

Climate change is too rarely listed among the greatest moral and spiritual issues of our time. After all, bureaucratic battles over power plant efficiency or legislative scuffles involving clean energy seldom have a human face or narrative.

Yet, climate change impacts us all, particularly of color. The facts paint a bleak picture for these communities in the face of climate change. Americans of color breathe in 40 percent more pollution than white Americans. Sixty-eight percent of African Americans live within thirty miles of a coal plant. Climate change has serious impacts on individual and community health — from increased rates of asthma to heat-related deaths to increased heart disease.

Because climate change overburdens communities of color, Black church leaders have been urging action on climate with growing urgency and alarm. All of the Black church national denominations have spoken out on the need to address climate change; senior religious leaders have proclaimed the urgency of climate action; Black clergy across the nation have sounded the climate alarm; and tens of thousands of black congregants have urged immediate climate action and the rejection of backwards thinking dirty energy initiatives.

While the African American community works diligently for accessible healthcare, criminal justice reform, and other justice issues we know that we must also work to halt the advance of climate change. For even if we address the aforementioned injustices, we will still be left with the injustice of climate change and its horrific impacts to our Black communities. Climate justice is an integral part of social justice.

In West Virginia, we are particularly vulnerable to climate impacts. Not because of hurricanes or wildfires, but because of flooding. In fact, West Virginia has the highest percentage of roads, commercial properties and infrastructure at risk for flooding than any other state in the U.S. Almost a third of residential homes in West Virginia are at risk for flooding. It is no surprise that West Virginians have the highest per capita rates of flood insurance claims than any other state. These impacts effect everyone in the state but fall most heavily on communities of color.

Now that the climate-focused Inflation Reduction Act is the law of land, we must ensure that the benefits of climate action are felt in West Virginia and especially in communities of color. How the Inflation Reduction Act is implemented on the ground will determine the health and wellbeing of all communities in West Virginia.

Because of its impacts, we must acknowledge climate change as the most urgent of moral issues and faith issues. Without a deeply-held belief in the necessity of fighting climate change, there will be plenty of ways to undermine our work to address climate change and embrace a clean energy future. We cannot act with reluctance at a personal or policy level. We must ensure that action on climate change, which includes the implementation of the Inflation Reduction Act, is robust and centered on justice.

​We will not be rewarded by minimal effort. It is time to embrace climate change as a moral and spiritual challenge of unparalleled import, and it is time to meet that challenge with the strength of conviction. The longer we wait to face this great invisible sin of our time, the more irreparable damage will be done.

By: Brigette Bazie, NRPE Bolton Intern and GBCS Ethnic Young Adult Intern

We need fewer gas-guzzling cars on the road. They pollute our skies and needlessly endanger the lives of pedestrians. The nation’s fixation with constructing car-centric communities has resulted in immense ecological devastation in the form of habitat loss, air pollution and greenhouse gas emissions. As such, the fossil fuel economy poses a danger to public health and is an existential threat to life on this planet. How can the U.S. respond to this climate crisis caused by dependence on carbon-based energy and respond to the social inequities it exacerbates? Sustainable improvements to public transit would be a good start.

Transportation is the largest source of greenhouse gas emissions in the U.S. According to the EPA, 27% of U.S. greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions came from the transportation sector in 2020; light-duty vehicles–average passenger cars–were responsible for 57% of GHG emissions within the sector. Efforts to mitigate climate change need to target the transportation sector; a massive reduction in the number of petroleum-powered passenger cars idling in traffic would significantly cut carbon emissions. Electrification of vehicles is certainly a move in the right direction, but transitioning away from car-centric city planning is more equitable and sustainable in the long-run, especially since many poor and low-income Americans are less likely to be able to afford regular vehicles in the first place. 

Safety is also an important factor to consider. Transportation is necessary for many Americans to obtain the means to live; yet it ironically cuts the lives of many Americans short. Where I live, the observant driver or passenger can spot photos stapled to telephone posts on the sides of busy streets in honor of people fatally struck by cars. 6,516 pedestrians were killed in U.S. traffic crashes in 2020; 89% of these fatalities occurred in single-vehicle crashes. Every year, air pollution costs the U.S. 5% of its GDP in damages, and vehicle emissions resulted in 7,100 deaths in the Northeastern and Mid-Atlantic states in 2016. Fewer cars on the road will result in fewer potential collisions, fewer instances of severe respiratory illness and other health complications, and save countless lives. 

Improvements to our transportation systems are improvements to our quality of life. No shade, but some bus stops are literally signs on the sidewalk located next to busy roads. As someone who doesn’t drive but lives in a car-centric area, Montgomery County, MD, having access to good public transportation is important to me. What I’ve noticed during my time taking transit in my area is that most people who use and operate buses are people of color, and low-income people, the elderly, students, and people with disabilities tend to rely on public transportation services. These are the same populations that are hardest hit by climate change. Caring for our neighbors entails that resources necessary for improvement in material conditions be made accessible to society’s most vulnerable; transportation is key to this accessibility, yet 45% of Americans don’t have access to transit. The Biden Administration’s $1.2 trillion Bipartisan Infrastructure Bill (IIJA) makes me cautiously optimistic about the future of mass transit in the U.S. Certain members of Congress and SCOTUS sabotaging climate action? Not so much. This is why electing climate-conscious officials at the state and local level is imperative for effective implementation of equitable transportation policy; getting our faith communities involved in grassroots organizations focused on providing clean transit options and creating walkable cities would greatly aid advocacy efforts.

Why should we be strong proponents of mass transit? If we are to be stewards of God’s creation and care for our neighbors as ourselves, decarbonization of the transportation sector ought to be a priority. We are chained to our cars, and our built environment reflects this–to the detriment of the planet. Nature is pretty. Roads? Pretty ugly if you ask me; they strip away natural land cover which exacerbates rising temperature effects. Everyday life is made increasingly difficult without access to reliable transportation. Improvements to and expansion of mass transit would significantly reduce the number of traffic accidents, reduce respiratory illness-causing air pollution, and expand access to medical care, healthy foods, education, employment opportunities, and green spaces. Strong public transportation systems can reduce the nation’s carbon emissions by 37 million metric tons annually. Socioeconomic mobility depends on spatial mobility; consistent investment in and maintenance of clean transit is our fast line to safer, healthier, more sustainable communities.

In 3rd grade, I stood in front of my class with a tropical forest scene taped to the wall behind me. To my left, a paper tree towered over me—vines tumbling off the branches above my head. A leopard stood—mid-stalk—to my right. Framed in foliage and surrounded by hand-crafted creatures, I declared (with gusto), “Save the rainforest!”

My passion was palpable. I was demonstrating, as millions of young people do, the innate desire to bring endangered species back from the brink of extinction. The leading cause of endangerment is habitat loss, including deforestation. Take, for example, our intelligent and comical kindred creatures, the orangutans. These round-faced, red-furred great apes swing, eat, and raise families in the tropical trees of Borneo and Sumatra. But the size of their populations has plummeted as southeastern rainforests are slashed down and burned up for the profits of palm oil plantations.

In the connected web of biological life, extinct species create gaping holes with a gravity strong enough to pull our spirits down towards grief. Grief is an appropriate response to facing the absence of a one-of-a-kind, irreplaceable presence. The loss runs deeper than the habitat level. Ultimately, it is a form of godly grief—one that can lead to changed actions.

Colossians 1:16 declares that every living thing was made through and for Jesus. Every type of plant and animal has a godly charm, an essence that points back to Christ.  There’s a word for this that is tossed around at seminaries and divinity schools, haecceity, or the traits that make up a unique being—the particularity of a created living thing.  For example, every species—box turtle, spotted salamander, red fox, desert marigold, redwood tree—has a divinely “drawn” originality.

When we think of God as the Artist of creation, then all species are a part of the active painting or living sculpture of Planet Earth. Each creature is a particular witness to God’s “eternal power and divine nature” (Romans 1:20). When a species is vulnerable to extinction, we risk losing a vital representation of the creativity and glory of God.

Consider snow leopards, with their crystal cerulean or grey-green eyes. Their full, white fur, spotted with dark rosettes, functions as camouflage, helping them hide within the Himalayan mountains. They’re characteristically demure. They teach us about an allusive, alluring beauty that’s worth seeking quietly and patiently, waiting for an encounter. This can remind us of the hidden beauty of God which we long to gaze upon and may call us to seek God patiently in quietude. If we lose the snow leopards (there are only around 4,000-6,500 left), we lose this physical manifestation of God’s divine nature in the wilderness.

Every time we lose a species, biodiversity declines, which means that there are fewer species to fill places in food webs and perform other crucial roles. These pockets of missing parts destabilize entire ecosystems—like a wobbly Jenga tower with too few wooden blocks left to keep the balance.

In my new book A Christian’s Guide to Planet Earth, I give practical tips for getting involved in endangered species projects, forest restoration, ocean conservation, and more. Any time we uphold an area of the biosphere, we are safeguarding the endangered species that count on them.

We lose species to extinction every day.  I find encouragement in verses like Colossians 1:20, which declares Christ will “reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven,” and Romans 8:21 which says, “the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” Scripture sets forth our future hope of a Savior actively restoring all of creation.

For now, when species go extinct on our watch, it detracts from the beauty and artistic glory displayed by these habitats, damages ecosystem services like clean air, water, and climate regulation, and robs future generations from experiencing the witness of a flourishing creation.

My “save the rainforest” presentation would have had less of an effect if my background was plain white brick. Protecting endangered species is pivotal to upholding the health of habitats and informs the way we worship God. Working to restore and maintain the beauty of biological diversity allows us to proclaim to those around us that every expression of our Maker’s brilliant creativity on Earth is worth saving.


Betsy Painter is a creative writer and conservation biologist who is passionate about environmental care and its human dimensions. She has studied Religion and Ecology in graduate school with a focus on the beautification of nature in the redemptive Biblical narrative and its implications for environmental hope and messaging today. A Christian’s Guide to Planet Earth is on-sale now. Learn more at betsypainter.com/a-christians-guide-to-planet-earth/