Over the past two weeks, we have been immersed in Ezekiel’s visionary account of a futuristic temple where the presence of God is real and the grace of God is palpable and free-flowing in the form of a river emanating from the doors of the temple to restore and replenish the earth that humankind has polluted and desecrated by exploitation, pollution and war.
Today, we reflect on Ezekiel 47:6-12. After Ezekiel enters the river, he is gently brought back to the bank. There he discovers what the water has produced. Trees, too many to count, grow along both sides of the riverbank. Their fruit does not fail, their leaves do not wither, and both become sources of nourishment and healing. “Their fruit will be used for eating and their leaves for healing” (v. 12b).
Now the trees are, of course, living trees. They are alive. But they are not simply alive. Their life enables life for others. Nothing in Ezekiel’s world exists alone. Everything is part of an interrelated web of life. The temple provides the river’s source, the river nourishes trees, the trees provide fruit, the river supports fish, and human communities benefit from the entire system. Life flourishes through relationship, through mutually beneficial networks. We call this ecological flourishing.
Modern life can easily hide those relationships. Food appears packaged on our supermarket shelves, separated from soil and rain and the animals that produced it. Water comes through taps, separated from catchments and rivers. Electricity appears at a wall switch, separated from the coal and systems that generate it.
Yet every meal and every glass of water carries a history. We are more dependent upon others than we realise. We are completely reliant on the smooth functioning of the ecosystems that sustain us.
When creation groans
When we reflect on Romans chapter 8, this interdependence becomes even more striking. Paul says that the whole creation is groaning. Creation is not a silent backdrop to the human story. It suffers, it waits, and it hopes.
The text does not describe modern ecological degradation, but it places the non-human creation within the biblical drama of suffering and salvation and liberation. That language gives us permission to honestly acknowledge the reality of ecological loss. We do not need to pretend that every damaged place can be restored quickly or that every species can be recovered. Some losses are long-lasting, some cut very deep, and some are irreversible.
There are good reasons to lament the fact of damaged rivers, cleared habitats, exhausted soils, lost species and degraded wetlands. Lament is one of the ways in which love speaks when something of value has been harmed or taken away.
Ecological harm also has real human consequences. Flood, fire and extreme heat affect people differently according to housing, wealth, location, health and access to resources. The biblical vision of healing encourages us to attend both to ecological systems and to neighbours who are made particularly vulnerable when those systems are under pressure.
Healing land and relationships
In Australia, questions about land also require careful attention to Country. Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples possess long and continuing relationships with land and water that should not be reduced to illustrations for Christian preaching.
One thing I appreciate about the Uniting Church is its costly willingness to stop and listen and learn from our Indigenous brothers and sisters. I mention this because damage to ecology and histories of Indigenous dispossession have often occurred within the same lands. Healing land and healing relationships are not identical tasks, but may intersect.
As followers of Jesus, we do not enter damaged places as saviours or rescuers. We learn from those who already know and care for them, working alongside local communities, Landcare groups, Indigenous organisations and others who have invested time and knowledge in particular places. The aim is not to control the landscape but to participate in its healing. There is so much to be learned from Indigenous land use and conservation. There is sadly also so much traditional knowledge and wisdom that has been lost forever.
The author and poet Wendell Berry offers a small but vivid image of creaturely flourishing in his poem, “Before dark”:
From the porch at dusk I watched
a kingfisher wild in flight
he could only have made for joy.He came down the river, splashing
against the water’s dimming face
like a skipped rock, passingon down out of sight. And still
I could hear the splashes
farther and farther awayas it grew darker. He came back
the same way, dusky as his shadow,
sudden beyond the willows.The splashes went on out of hearing.
It was dark then. Somewhere
the night had accommodated him—at the place he was headed for
or where, led by his delight,
he came.[1]
Berry’s poem helps us see that the purpose of Ezekiel’s river is realised not when it becomes useful to humans, but when other creatures are free to flourish within the abundance and delight of their own created life. Every creature deserves such freedom.
Ecological healing and spiritual healing
The trees in Ezekiel’s river vision provide a further image of flourishing because their life is seen to turn outward. The healthy tree gives, the healthy river sustains, and the healthy community enables others to live. Ezekiel challenges cultures that measure flourishing primarily through accumulation and challenges us instead to gauge success by the measure of our contribution to wholeness.
Yet healing in Scripture is not exhausted by environmental repair or social resilience. The Bible also speaks of reconciliation with God, which presumes a broken relationship. It speaks of the possibility of forgiveness, transformation of disordered desires, and renewal through the ministry of the Holy Spirit.
These different forms of healing are related but not interchangeable. A restored wetland cannot forgive sin. A repaired relationship with the land does not by itself reconcile me to God. At the same time, our spiritual salvation should never become an excuse to ignore and neglect damaged land or suffering neighbours.
We need to ask two crucial questions. First, does our life become nourishment and healing for the world around us? Second, are we receiving the healing that God offers through the reconciling work of Jesus?
The first question may take practical forms. As a congregation, we might participate in creek restoration, bush-care or habitat planting. We might support Indigenous-led environmental projects, or assist our neighbours to cope better as they negotiate old age, or during heatwaves, floods, and other emergencies. Actions like these are forms of pastoral care attentive to the places where we live.
Some ecological damage can be restored, while other changes require adaptation of the natural environment. For example, we do what we can to help communities become more resilient rather than assuming everything can simply be returned to an earlier pristine state.
Congregations like ours can strengthen local networks, assist vulnerable neighbours and contribute to recovery after floods, fires or other environmental disruption. These actions may appear small beside the scale of the global ecological challenges we face, but Ezekiel’s trees do not presume to heal the whole world. They bear fruit where they are planted and offer leaves where they grow.
Wounds of the spirit
My first sermon in this series invited us to notice creation as gift, and the second reminded us that we are creatures. This third sermon asks what happens when grace sparks life and love in us. The answer is simple: life turns outward. The measure of flourishing is not accumulation, but contribution.
But as I said, we can be so occupied with healing land and repairing damaged ecosystems that we neglect the wounds of the spirit. We may restore habitat while leaving resentment unhealed. We may attend carefully to biodiversity while neglecting prayer. We may advocate for global ecological justice while ignoring personal reconciliation with God.
We need to attend to both, and if we need to choose, we should start with the personal and spiritual, then attend to creation care with new purpose and greater vigour. As we seek healing for the earth, we should also seek the healing that comes from forgiveness, regeneration, renewal, and the life Jesus offers.
Sermon 872 copyright © 2026 Rod Benson. Preached at North Rocks Community Church, Sydney, Australia, on Sunday 20 September 2026. Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are from The Christian Standard Bible (Nashville: Holman Bible Publishers, 2020).
Rev Dr Rod Benson is General Secretary of the NSW Ecumenical Council and a minister of the Uniting Church in Australia serving at North Rocks Community Church in Sydney.
Reference
[1] Wendell Berry, “Before Dark,” reproduced in Alison McGhee, “Poem of the Week,” 28 January 2023, available at https://alisonmcghee.com/tag/wendell-berry/.
Image source: author
Taking it further….
Reflection questions
- How does Paul’s description of creation “groaning” in Romans 8 help us acknowledge ecological loss? Why might lament be an expression of love and faith?
- What does Wendell Berry’s kingfisher invite us to appreciate about creatures beyond their usefulness to human beings?
- Why does the sermon distinguish ecological healing from reconciliation with God while insisting that both deserve our attention?
Application questions
- What local place could you visit regularly to notice its beauty, learn about its ecological wounds, and make room for gratitude and lament in prayer?
- Who in our neighbourhood is particularly vulnerable during heatwaves, floods or other emergencies? How could we work with them to strengthen practical support and local relationships?
- As you seek to offer nourishment and healing to others, where do you also need to receive God’s healing? What specific practice of prayer, forgiveness or reconciliation could you begin this week?
All Told 