By Kelley Dawson ’16 M.Div.

Before reading Pope Francis’ recent encyclical, Laudato Si’, I expected it to be a call to action: what might Francis’ words inspire me to do? What new habits will I be challenged to take on?

Instead, I was struck by the way it was asking me to be. I find myself, again and again, returning to a specific challenge, that is, the “refusal to turn reality into an object simply to be used and controlled” (§11). Why is this significant for me, particularly as a person brought up in an age of immense technological “progress”?

Put simply, my time spent hiking and travelling alone and with friends are punctuated with a certain practice that is so embedded in a modern person’s experience of visiting glorious, natural landscapes that it almost goes unnoticed: the desire to capture a certain scene or view on camera. With the increasing ubiquity and quality of cameras, the temptation to edit and filter the sun setting over the Pacific or the rolling hills along a country road becomes more difficult to resist. I am tempted to capture the view in a way that is almost gluttonous, packaging it up on a 2×4 inch screen to demonstrate something I saw and did on Twitter or Instagram.

Last week, I visited the beautiful grounds of St. John’s University in Minnesota for a retreat. I spend a good deal of time walking the trails throughout the 2,500-acre arboretum, the land that the Benedictines settled in 1864. During one hike, the dense, lush forest allowed the sunlight to stream in at the golden hour just after dinnertime. It was enchanting.

Without a thought, I pulled out my phone, which doubles as my camera, straining to capture the loveliness. I could not. No amount of editing could get the scene into my camera just as it was being given to me to enjoy. A thought came to mind in the midst of my petty frustration: “This is for you to love and not consume.” I was trying to possess the beauty so I could put it in my pocket, in a way, to own. This golden-hued moment was a gift meant to move me to love, not to hoard—“to be used and controlled.” (§11)

I think it is important to note that the problem was (and is) my disposition, not my camera. Cameras are not good or evil—they are tools to be used. However, I was using it to package a vivid reality, given by God for us to delight in.

How we use the created world begins with how we relate to it. If we relate to it as a commodity, used for our own self-actualization, we will undoubtedly exploit it. Francis’ challenge to refuse to turn the gift of creation into a consumer product reflects the basic stance we should have toward creation as its stewards.