Jon Magnuson

One recent winter evening I sat in front of a fireplace with a group of interfaith volunteers for a strategy meeting of the Northern Great Lakes Water Stewards. Following a simple meal, we pondered ways to shape future gatherings. After some moments of silence, a 24- year young woman, having grown up in Traverse City, currently working at a retail store in downtown Marquette, gently suggested we begin and close all our meetings with a quiet bow. Paul, our community’s Buddhist priest, gave a nod of approval. Without hesitation, we unanimously agreed.

Such simple rituals acknowledging dependency on natural resources that sustain our lives each day invite us into attitudes of gratitude and humility. Personal and communal commitments to honor sacred gifts provide, for people of conscience, hope and renewed energy. They also are the beginning of wisdom. But that’s easy to forget.

For 12 years I served as a representative of religious communities on the Lake Superior Binational Forum, a Canadian/U.S. citizen advisory group. The federal mandate from both governments was to make recommendations to both countries regarding protection of Lake Superior, one of the crown jewels of our North American landscape. We represented different sectors of the Great Lakes Basin: mining and timber interests, environmental activists, academic researchers, the recreational industry and Native American tribes. Meetings were run by parliamentary procedure in scattered small towns and cities along Lake Superior’s Canadian and U.S. borders. From time to time, a few of us suggested we begin with some ritual of Thanksgiving or gratitude. For the most part, that idea went nowhere. Such proposals were received with blank stares.

Times have changed. We are now living with the haunting challenges of climate change. Pope Francis thunders from the Vatican that we have squandered Mother Earth and need to step up with measures of environmental justice for those exploited by multinational corporations that see quality of life exclusively in terms of stock market returns. Greta Thunberg, a 17-year-old prophet from Sweden, nominated for the Nobel Prize, continues to defy the world’s kings and princes. Rejecting accolades and awards, she boldly pleads for us to do something for future generations who will inherit our planet’s polluted air and water.

There are deep divisions about how we live on the planet. Agreed. But one thing should be able to be affirmed for a majority of readers of this column. Here in northern Michigan, we are the beneficiaries of living in one of the most extraordinary landscapes in the world.

We may live with fierce, harsh weather and a struggling rural economy, but we are also surrounded by lakes and rivers, enormous amounts of fresh water resources unmatched on the rest of the planet.

People of goodwill and committed friends and members of faith communities can seize this moment as an opportunity to encourage our regional leaders to support Native American tribes and other grass-roots environmental groups to initiate a new, historic commitment to protect our drinking water, our streams and our Great Lakes.

We can lead the way. A first step is to raise standards for our water resources.

To offer, here in the Upper Peninsula, the purest, safest drinking water in North America. Our churches, large and small can install the best of effective filtering systems. We can join together to pass municipal and township ordinances raising standards for drinking water in every county in the Upper Peninsula. We can work on monitoring and protecting what Jon Saari and David Arnold from the UP Environmental Coalition call “The Sixth Great Lake,” our often forgotten, but essential, underground aquifers that provide water for wells fed by streams and lakes.

We can also expose the multinational bottled water economy for what it is: A profit-driven business that sabotages local communities’ commitments to provide, at no cost, the highest quality water for every child, man and woman who chooses to live here in the Upper Peninsula.

When crossing the Mackinac Bridge or driving across the border of Wisconsin into the Upper Peninsula, one day may it be known that you are entering a corner of the Great Lakes Basin where people of faith have joined together with American Indian tribes, environmental groups, and city and county governments to provide the best, finest water in the nation. We can do this.

And many of us believe that to insure a lasting, real effect… it will need to begin with a bow.

Editor’s note: Jon Magnuson is with The Cedar Tree Institute. Check out www.cedartreeinstitute.org.