Your Christmas colors are red and green. Red for my blood, perhaps, but now is the time to pay attention to the Green above all else. I am the Green Christ. I yearn to help you heal your innermost sin—the sin of being separated from your true nature, which is Nature, my Green World, and yours too.
In my Middle Eastern reflection—which was one of many—I was murdered on two pieces of dead wood nailed together. At that time, the land there had already been deforested for generations. Think of that—the fertile basin of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, the so-called cradle of civilization, stripped bare of its verdant covering when your historical world was barely beginning. Very few, there in Jesus’s time, knew about the green land. The remaining grasses and shrubs were nothing but forage for the herds of sheep and goats that trod the fragile desert. The people who herded those animals knew only how to exploit the remaining tufts of green clinging precariously to life, so their flocks could live another season. But the Green Land—my Green Land—the Green World of my Mother—is so much more than that.
I come from a long line of redeemers. Yes, a long line. Some of us were even female. But I neither deny nor resent that it has been primarily the man who has taken this role over many millennia—the man who willingly sacrificed himself. And for what? For the good of the people and the good of the land. The land itself was alive for those early people (your own ancestors) who sacrificed me over and over. The land was not just a source of physical sustenance—though even this important capacity had been severely stunted by the time of my sojourn in the Middle East—but the land sheltered and harbored the people’s spiritual sustenance as well.
To the ancients, spirituality meant going within—yes—and also going down, down into the land, into the roots of life. The people were nothing without the land. It was like expecting someone today to be fully him or herself without their legs, their organs, their face. And when the land and the people needed renewal, someone, usually a man, stepped forward to offer themselves for this noble task. True, their death—my death, then—involved some suffering, but suffering was just a byproduct. The real force driving this ageless ritual was generosity—the generosity of the sacrifice’s gift, the generosity of the land toward the people, and the generosity of the people toward the land.
My true cross is not two dead, desert-blasted pieces of wood. No, it is a shining, flowering tree—a tree that has leaves, flowers, fruit and seed that can nourish the land and those who dwell there. I am a fountain, a cornucopia of abundance—true abundance, abundance for the land and for the people. For all the people—the tree people, the flower people, the bird people, the animals, the fish and insects, the rocks and soil, as well as the human people.
Please, humans of this time, be brave in recognizing what has happened to me, to you, and to the land. My fertility, my delight in Nature, my Green World, my joyous sacrifice, my patient, intelligent guidance to all of you to value yourselves and honor your roots in the earth—all this has been transformed into kneeling before an emaciated, tortured figure, supposed to be myself, suffering endlessly on a dead, dry, equally emaciated cross. Where is the land? Where is the beauty and fecundity of the earth? It can’t be found through thinking of yourselves as hopeless sinners, redeemed only through the suffering embodied in this tragic, desiccated image.
It is now the land itself, and all its non-human peoples, who are suffering. All around the planet the beautiful natural world is being assaulted, exploited, and enslaved. All creatures are suffering, not just humans. And where is the redeemer of the suffering natural world, of Gaia’s endless heartbreak? Eternally nailed to a dead cross? No! I am here, right here, in every tree, in every stream, in every hummingbird sipping from a flower, in every hawk ripping a mouse apart—and in that mouse too. I am the vitality, the infinite beauty and diversity of the natural world around you. I’m still here, even as my true world becomes ever more depleted. And there is no redemption from that, for any of you, until you truly meet me, and revere my true Mother.
And, lest you think I care more for the Green World than for you—No! I love all my creatures equally—because they are all together in Gaia’s web! You are part of this! The sin of forgetting this is what has caused all your immensely sad, human-level problems also. Do you think that the tragedy of an oil well leaking into the ocean—the crown of creation of the Mother of the Waters—is in a different universe than the tragedy of fishermen and women all around the world being unable to support and shelter their families because the fish are gone? Do you truly believe that the cutting down of the rainforests around the planet—the Queen of the Forest’s most precious expressions—is a separate tragedy from deserts becoming too hot, and the human families there starving as they desperately wander their lifeless land in search of food and shelter?
And do you really think that there is no connection between the dishonoring of the land and of the feminine, the realm of my Mother—and the transformation of bright, inquisitive, wonder-full human children into ones who aspire to take from and kill their own kind as well as the beings of nature and the land itself?
My precious sons, my dear daughters, I want you back. I yearn for you every day. If it helps you to think of me as your Master, then think of me like that. I can also be your Brother, if that is the better way for you. I have no interest in being a king (or queen) over you in the old, top-down sense. I simply yearn to receive you back into my breast, which is the breast of the land, the breast of the infinitely abundant Green World from which I sprang, and still spring, every moment. I want you to partake of my living waters, which are always, always there for you.
So, my dear ones, I have only this one Christmas wish. I want you back. My Mother wants you back, and, yes, my Father as well. We want you back as people of the land, people of the vast, beautiful web of Gaia. We want you to know yourselves as those people. This is the way you can truly redeem yourselves and your world. I wish this for every one of you on this day.