Our Changing Earth

Danger, hope and the Christian journey towards a liveable future

An essay inspired by the premise of the 2026 documentary How to Live on Earth

A child in Milton Keynes may grow up knowing that a river can flood, that summer heat can make a home unbearable, and that a familiar bird may no longer visit the garden. A child elsewhere may find that the rains on which a family depends no longer arrive reliably. These are different experiences of one changing Earth. They ask a question that is at once scientific, moral and spiritual: How shall we live when the conditions that sustain life are being unsettled by human hands?

How to Live on Earth, presented by Benedict Cumberbatch, begins with a compelling possibility: human beings can learn to work with nature rather than continually against it. Its makers tell stories of scientists, farmers, Indigenous activists and others seeking a future in which people and the natural world can thrive together.[1] That is a fruitful invitation to the Church. Yet hope must be honest. We cannot repair our relationship with creation by admiring its beauty while ignoring the forces that are destroying it.

The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change finds that risks and losses increase with every additional increment of global warming. It also says that deep, rapid and sustained reductions in greenhouse gas emissions can limit some otherwise unavoidable harm.[2] Alongside the changing climate, the global biodiversity assessment by IPBES estimated that around one million animal and plant species face extinction.[3] These assessments do not predict the inevitable extinction of humanity. They do tell us that the threats to human societies and to countless fellow creatures are grave, unevenly shared and shaped by decisions we are making now. We are entering dangerous territory, but we have not lost the capacity to choose our direction.

From ownership to belonging

The first change Christians must make is in how we imagine our place in the world. Genesis describes a creation God calls good before human beings have done a single thing to deserve it (Genesis 1:1–31). Humanity receives a particular responsibility within that creation, but the world does not begin with us and its worth does not end with our usefulness. In Genesis 2:15, the human creature is placed in the garden to till it and keep it. The verbs suggest care and attentive responsibility. They cannot honestly be made into permission to exhaust the soil and abandon the living things dependent on it.

Psalm 24 begins, “The earth is the Lord’s.” That sentence unsettles every claim of absolute human ownership. Land, water and air are not simply raw materials waiting to be converted into comfort or profit. Nor are other species expendable scenery in the story of human achievement. They have their own place in the life God has made. To call ourselves stewards is meaningful only if we are prepared to ask what has flourished, and what has suffered, under our care.

The film’s invitation to “team up with nature” can deepen this understanding. A healthy wetland is more than a flood barrier; a tree is more than a carbon store. Both are living parts of a wider community of creation. Working with nature means learning its limits, protecting its diversity and resisting the assumption that every difficulty can be solved by taking more.

From distance to solidarity

Environmental damage is experienced through unequal lives. People with resources can often buy shade, insurance, clean water or a move to safer ground. Others cannot. The communities least responsible for accumulated emissions may have the fewest means to recover from failed harvests, destructive storms or rising seas. The IPCC estimates that billions of people live in settings highly vulnerable to climate change.[4] We need only listen to the voices of those affected to know that this is already a matter of neighbourly love.

Pope Francis, in Laudato si’, calls us to hear both the cry of the Earth and the cry of the poor.[5] His insight speaks across Christian traditions because the two cries cannot be separated. When land becomes infertile or water scarce, livelihoods, health and dignity are at stake. When our pursuit of comfort depends on damage borne by people we may never meet, the question is no longer simply what we can afford. It is what justice asks of us.

Jesus commands us to love our neighbour (Mark 12:31). Our neighbour includes the person living downstream, the family facing a hotter future, and the child who will inherit the consequences of present decisions. It also asks us to recognise the claims of other living creatures whose habitats we can protect or destroy. Christian compassion must stretch across geography and generations without becoming so broad that it forgets the people on our doorstep.

From anxiety to truthful hope

We must make room for grief. Scripture does. The Psalms cry out; the prophets name devastation; Paul pictures the whole creation groaning (Romans 8:22). Lament is a faithful response when a river is poisoned, a species disappears or a community loses its home. It allows us to speak truthfully before God without pretending that every loss can be undone.

But Christian hope is more demanding than reassurance that everything will somehow turn out well. Paul’s image of a groaning creation is joined to hope and patient endurance (Romans 8:18–25). Hope does not cancel our responsibility; it gives us courage to accept it. We cannot promise that every damaged place will recover. We can refuse the fatalism that says our choices no longer matter. The scientific finding that each increment of warming adds harm also means that each increment prevented matters.[2]

The resurrection, central to Christian faith, teaches us that devastation does not have the last word with God. It does not grant us an exemption from the consequences of our actions. When the risen Christ commissions his people to witness in the world, he sends them into it with open eyes and willing hands. Prayer should therefore enlarge our attention and strengthen our resolve. It cannot become a substitute for either.

From concern to a shared way of life

What might this mean for a congregation? We can begin by listening: to climate science, to young people, to those already living with drought or flooding, and to neighbours who fear that change will cost them their jobs or security. We can then examine the practical life of our church: the energy our building uses, how we travel and purchase, the land and wildlife around us, and where our money is held. We can choose measurable changes and revisit them publicly, so that our concern has a shape and a timetable.

We also have a civic voice. Churches can work with other faith communities, schools and local groups to restore habitat, strengthen care during heat or flooding, and ask decision-makers for fair, effective action. Some of the most consequential choices concern energy, housing, transport and land use; they cannot be settled by conscientious shopping alone. The Anglican Communion names safeguarding the integrity of creation and renewing the life of the Earth as a mark of mission.[6] For an ecumenical church, this is work we can undertake together.

There will be hard questions and imperfect choices. A transition away from fossil fuels must take seriously the people whose livelihoods depend on them. Restoring nature must respect the knowledge and rights of those who live on and care for the land. Protecting creation and protecting our neighbours belong to the same task. The Church can help make such conversations more truthful, more compassionate and more persistent.

Our Changing Earth is therefore more than a title for a film season. It is a call to change ourselves: from owners to grateful members of creation; from distant observers to neighbours; from frightened spectators to people capable of faithful action. The danger is real. The future is not guaranteed. Yet the Earth is still alive with possibilities for repair, and we are still able to choose how to live within it. May we answer, together, with humility, courage and love.

References

1. How to Live on Earth, official film description, https://howtoliveonearth.net/about.
2. Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, Climate Change 2023: Synthesis Report, headline statements, https://report.ipcc.ch/ar6syr/headline.html.
3. Intergovernmental Science-Policy Platform on Biodiversity and Ecosystem Services, Global Assessment media release, 6 May 2019, https://www.ipbes.net/news/Media-Release-Global-Assessment.
4. IPCC, Climate Change 2022: Impacts, Adaptation and Vulnerability, Summary for Policymakers headline statements, https://www.ipcc.ch/report/ar6/wg2/resources/spm-headline-statements/.
5. Francis, Laudato si’: On Care for Our Common Home (2015), paragraph 49, https://press.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/encyclicals/documents/papa-francesco_20150524_enciclica-laudato-si.html.
6. Church of England, “Why you should act,” https://www.churchofengland.org/about/environment-and-climate-change/why-you-should-act.