Yet it's squeak! squeak! squeak!
Far and farther crawls the wire.To crowd and pinch another inchIs all their heart's desire.The world is overstocked with menAnd some will see the dayWhen each must keep his little pen,But I'll be far away.The Old Cow Man written by Badger Clark
Driving east on along Highway 1 from Ely today, I felt a sadness on the land. The area has survived two periods of intense resource extraction, the fur trade of the late 18th century and the mining and logging boom of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. It appears that the land is once more heading into another period, possible final, of intense resource extraction.
I am not writing about the many potential dangers of sulfide mining, but our relationship with God's creation.
Reading Hosea 4:1-3
Listen to the word of the Lord, you Israelites. The Lord has brought these charges against those who live in the land:
“There is no faith, no love, and no knowledge of God in the land. There is cursing, lying, murdering, stealing, and adultery. People break my laws, and there is one murder after another. That is why the land is drying up, and everyone who lives in it is passing away. Wild animals, birds, and fish are dying.
This isn't a condemnation of the United States, or the More Developed Countries, although it very well could be because as Americans we constitute 5% of the worlds population and consume 25% of the worlds energy supplies, eat enough food each day to feed an additional 80 million people, and throw out 200,000 tons of edible food daily, no this is a condemntation of all of humanity.
As human civilisation moved from nomadic herders of Abraham's day to urban dwellers of Sodom, Gomorrah, Jerusalem, Rome and on into the industrial age of London, New York, Tokyo, Beijing; we have lost touch with God. We have continued to exacerbate the sins of Adam by continuing to believe that we are gods, that we are in control.
We, like the Hebrews, have given up the Jubilee. We have to wring the last bit of profit from the land, leaving none for the widow, orphan or stranger. We do not let the land rest, because it might cost us a dollar.
What land we don't physically extract wealth from we treat as our personal playground, places where we can do as we please, and enjoy the hedonistic pleasures of pagan gods upon the land.
Badger Clark (1883 - 1957), a cowboy from South Dakota, wrote The Old Cow Man sometime before 1910. How well he saw what lay in store for God's Creation that he did so lovingly respect and care for.