A BRIDGE can only unite if we are willing to cross it. 

On Sunday, Bishop Declan, Rabbi Levy and I led a group of

people from the three Abrahamic Faiths, Judaism, Christianity

and Islam, and together we walked across one of this country’s

most iconic bridges – the Clifton Suspension Bridge.

The symbolism was obvious, one from which I found great

inspiration – a walk across the divide.  The event was

organised as part of the Clifton Diocese’s Sound of Many Waters

campaign to draw attention to the role faith can have on

the  environment.

As we neared the other side of the bridge, to everyone’s

shock, one passer-by suddenly climbed on to the edge of the

bridge and jumped – but then immediately deployed his

parachute! Thankfully, he landed safely on the embankment

below, quickly gathering his parachute before the authorities

could get there.

But I couldn’t ignore the symbolism of his actions. It was a

leap of faith. Not everyone saw him jump.  Not everyone

saw him land safely. Purely by chance, he jumped as we were

passing. Not everyone recognised the symbolism.

In faith, there is no such thing as “chance”.

Islam is not necessarily a faith that one would associate

with caring for the environment. For example, you would not

think that “Walk gently on the earth” is a verse from the

Qur’an. But it is, and it is not alone.

 In fact, there are more than 700 verses in the Qur’an in

which God talks about the obligation of human beings to care

for our environment.  Humankind, according to the Qur’an,

was appointed “stewards” and “guardians” upon the earth –

constantly being reminded to ponder, to reflect, to consider

the signs of God in the environment around us, to preserve, to

protect.

Today, we have areas designated as being of outstanding

natural beauty or scientific interest, or that protect

wildlife.

But in Islam the idea of a “sanctuary” has been there from the

very beginning. When God declared Mecca a sanctuary, the

Prophet declared the city of Medina to be a sanctuary and all

the areas in between, where no animal was to be hunted and no

tree be cut down.

Muslim scholars have always debated any introduction of new

technology, not only on the basis of its immediate benefit, but

in terms of the harm or benefit of the use of that technology

on the environment for generations to come. There is constant

reference to how God has created this world in a “delicate

balance”.

God warns us repeatedly in the Qur’an that corruption and

mischief will spread across the earth and the seas if our

actions were to upset that “delicate balance”. But crucially,

the appearance of such signs should never be seen as hopeless,

it should be seen as a warning to turn back and to

stop. 

We, as humankind, think we are the centre of the universe

and everything in it.  However, God in the Qur’an says the

exact opposite:  “In the creation of the heavens and the

earth, is far greater than the creation of human kind, but most

of human kind perceives not.”

Next time you’re throwing litter in the street,  or

leaving the lights on, or the tap running, the time has come

for people of all faiths in this world to remind each other:

exactly whose earth are we on?