Delivered at Ames UCC on October 14, 2018
©The Rev. Eileen Gebbie
Sermons are written to be heard rather than read.
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It is good to be here together this morning. It is good to be able to leave our homes without having to negotiate any downed power lines or collapsed roofs, unlike so many of our fellow Americans in Florida. Do any of you know anyone affected by Hurricane Michael? The community where Carla and I honeymooned is gone.
How about Harvey in Texas? Maria in Puerto Rico? Sandy in the Northeast? Katrina in the Gulf Coast?
Do any of you know anyone affected by flooding here in Iowa? And the tornado in Marshalltown and Pella? Last week I spent some time in my basement because of a tornado warning—anyone else?
It feels like weather disasters are coming more and more often, with greater and greater intensity. It feels like that because they are. The warmer the oceans, and they are hotter than ever, the greater the storms. The warmer the planet overall, the more intense the rainfall overall. And the collision between warm, humid air, causes tornados when it encounters cold, dry air.
Our bodies can feel the change, can feel the strange. The recent days of high heat with fewer hours of daylight and turning leaves felt fundamentally wrong. Long, dark mornings should come with cold air and gloves, not bug spray and sweat.
It is like we are living in a different place. We did not move, but it is as though we are living in a different land than forty, or even four, years ago. We may not be climate refugees like the people of the Mariana and the Marshall Islands, but we are now exiles from an era when we did not have to talk about family emergency plans, bug out bags, and the tipping point for human survival. So this speech from the book of Joshua can speak as much to us now as it did for its original audience.