Sometimes I find it all gets too much. The prevalent sadness. The violence in Ukraine and in local neighbourhoods. Entrenched racism, child abuse. Poverty, sickness, waiting lists, climate change. In TV so-called news bulletins every day. Day after day after day. Overwhelming. Depressing. Out of control. What, I sometimes ask myself, is my theology for the extinction of the human species.

And when it all gets too much, what then? Can I find a rock to live under, to hide from all this? I see church-speak prayers praying to their God about all sorts of things we could fix ourselves if our prayers ever led to action. But no, we ask God to be the fix-it person as if we have given up. Because we probably have. It all gets too hard.

When I walked Christchurch’s post-quaked streets I often asked random people a simple question. Where in this place do you go to revive your spirit? Everyone I asked had an answer that involved being by the river, in Hagley Park, by the sea, and many other similar places. In nature is a summary; being amid trees, near water, at the beach, under a glowering sky.

I have planted hundreds of trees. They will outlive me and many generations of my family. They heal me. I am a tree-hugger. I touch them, in awe of their delivery-system of sustenance many metres into the air. Their ability to clean up the air I breathe is legendary. They communicate with each other underground. They are simple complex life. They renew my spirit. When I sit with trees I’m aware of the shortness of human life and the complexity and connectedness of all life on this planet. I sit against a tree trunk and imagine the life going on. Humans are so arrogant it seems to me. As if the world was made for us. And look what we continue to do in our arrogance.

When it gets too much, I sit with trees. I have a particular friendly tree to whom I talk. When it all gets too much I try to be simple. Like Michael Leunig. Whose wisdom makes me weep and laugh at the same time:

“Today is not the international day of the cup. No day is. Yet the cup is one of humanity’s most important inventions. It is ancient, universal and timeless. It has no moving parts. It is simple. It is perfect. Without the cup, life would be very difficult. We could live without computers but not without the cup. Strangely, but not surprisingly there is no International Day of the Cup. The things that matter most in life are not celebrated and win no awards.” Michael Leunig