Ecology and Religion

In his “The Historical Roots of Our Ecologic Crisis,” one of the most influential and widely discussed essays in the first-wave ecocriticism, Lynn White, Jr. comments that “[e]specially in its Western form, Christianity is the most anthropocentric religion the world has seen” (43; emphasis added). For him, according to the Bible, man, given the right by God to name all other animals, not only separates himself from animals but also appears superior to them and is endowed with the power to dominate them. In other words, animals are created to serve man, and thus are reduced to a life subordinate to humankind. Such a thinking of the relationship between man and animal leads to an idea that man has a privileged position at the center of the earthly world. Furthermore, White contends that the humans’ ecological crisis derives from Western science and technology that are closely connected with Christianity. As he puts it, “Our science and technology have grown out of Christian attitudes toward man’s relation to nature . . .” (45). The embedded notion of man’s dominance over animals in Christianity has been reflected in Western science and technology that are unfavorable to nature, including animals.

Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe can be treated as a text that reflects what White refers to as an “ecologic crisis,” partly because Crusoe relies on Western technology to overwhelm nature, and partly because he is a Christian. Crusoe’s interaction with the animals or tribesmen not only is far from establishing a harmonious relationship with nature but also conveys a sense of anthropocentrism and manifests technological intervention to dominate creatures. Like Adam, Crusoe seems to be the first man on the island and names his parrot Poll as well as his first servant Friday. Furthermore, Crusoe kills animals in many scenes in Robison Crusoe. For instance, he kills a female goat, her kid, and two fowls for food, as well as a wild cat for her skin (Defoe,

Robinson Crusoe 53); he kills a young goat and catches another to bring home to tame

(56); he kills three kittens “like Vermine, or wild Beasts” because he feels “pester’d with Cats” (75); he kills three fowls that drop down in his corn field and hangs them to scare others, so he never sees any birds near the field (85); he kills “a great many”

cats because they frequently come into his house (108). Crusoe resorts to his

weaponry to kill animals not all because he hunts them for food, but also because he slaughters them merely at his will. His weaponry, representing Western science and technology, becomes his tool to dominate creatures, including what he calls

“barbarians.” Feeling “like a King,” Crusoe treats his tamed animals that accompany him—a parrot, a dog, and two cats—as his “Servants” (108). Later, like a sovereign on the island, Crusoe teaches Friday to call him “Master” (149). He thinks of Friday as inferior and reduces him to the level of animals, for he refers to him in the text as a

“Creature” (148, 154, 162), or even a “Dog” (212).

Although it seems that the Church has responded to the ecological crisis slowly, church leaders have spoken about environmental issues, such as pollution, since the late 1960s and early 1970s (Rajotte and Breuilly 2). Pope John Paul II talked about the relationship between peace and environment in his World Day of Peace Message, 1979; later, when he made the World Day of Peace speech in 1990, “Peace with God, Peace with All of God’s Creation,” he emphasized that “I wish to repeat: The

ecological crisis is a moral crisis!” (Lorbiecki 26, 27). The Pope’s words not only

make religion intersect ecology but also seem to make a response to White’s criticism that the Christian view lacks ecological consciousness.

It is worth noting that White in his essay concludes that science and technology will not overcome our “ecologic crisis until we find a new religion, or rethink our old one” (45). Although White mentions Zen Buddhism—the religion that fascinates America’s beatniks and that can possibly serve as what he calls “a new religion” to solve the ecological crisis—he reconsiders “our old one” (45). White offers a possible

solution to deal with the ecological crisis rooted in Christianity by recommending that

“we should ponder the greatest radical in Christian history since Christ: Saint Francis of Assisi” (45). Francis is radical in the sense that he “tried to depose man from his monarchy over creation and set up a democracy of all God’s creatures” (45). Francis is treated by White as “a patron saint for ecologists” (46). For White, we humans should learn from Francis’s “belief in the virtue of humility—not merely for the individual but for man as a species” (45). That is, man should renounce his claim of sovereignty over creatures.

Although White treats Francis as a saint for ecologists, not every critic agrees with him. For instance, Jan J. Boersema questions “whether Francis would ever have come to be associated with ecology, with nature or even with animals” (58). For Boersema, Francis’s works are “religious texts” rather than “philosophical treatises”

because although he does mention animals, plants, and nature in his works, his mention of them aims to glorify God (58). As he states, “To the extent that Francis alludes to animals, plants or natural phenomena, it is to illustrate the human lessons to be learned from them, or to exhort the whole of creation to praise their maker” (63).

Francis’s preachment, Boersema further says, was not to call for the “equality” among creatures, nor convey the idea of “ecocentrism” (64). Francis fails to assert the

equality among all the creatures, for he preaches to them “with authority, and they obey” (71). Those animals that are tamed and “serve humanity” can “enjoy a clear preference”; therefore, his attitude toward animals smacks of anthropocentrism, and

“the ideal relationship between humanity and nature” that Francis presents is still

“within the classic Christian tradition” (71). Moreover, most saints appear to be more prominent among ordinary mortals due to “their ‘special’ relationship with the natural world” (67), so the description of Francis’s relationship with nature is not a special case because this follows the “conventional image” of what a saint is supposed to be

(71). Boersema even comments that “[f]or ecologists of whatever variety, then, Francis is not an appropriate patron” (74). Yet, admittedly, he says that Francis’s thoughts are not completely irrelevant to today’s field of ecology (74). While some detractors, like Boersema, doubt Francis’s role as a saint for ecologists, most critics, like White, praise the ecological thoughts conveyed in Francis’s life and works.³⁷ As Keith Douglass Warner, OFM notes, “British Royalty, scientists, leaders of other faiths, diverse scholars, and ordinary believers have claimed him [Francis] as their inspiration in this age of ecological crisis” (115).

在文檔中 當代魯賓遜文類中的生態轉向：豪斯霍弗爾、圖尼埃、巴拉德、馬泰爾 (頁 188-191)