Lent: “To give water to the thirsty is to worry about the climate” (2/7)

During this season of Lent, La Croix Africa and La Croix International are working together to offer every Friday testimonies from committed people around the world about the seven corporal works of mercy. Today, Martin Kopp, a French protestant theologian, meditates on "Giving water to the thirsty" (2/7).

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I have never been thirsty. Of course, I know the daily demand of the body and that urgent appetite for water, which you feel in summer after a soccer game or in the middle of a long walk, which makes you swallow in big hurried gulps. But the water bottle is right there, in the bag, and the tap never betrays. The resource is faithful. And the heart is serene.

I opened my eyes to thirst at the age of 11. As a young schoolboy, I left my green native region of the East of France for a fabulous trip: to visit my godmother, who worked for the High Commission for Refugees, in Djibouti. Two weeks in the Horn of Africa! I left with stars in my eyes. The dream of the desert, of swimming in the Indian Ocean, of riding a camel.

On arrival, of course, the beautiful Lake Assal and the succulent cuisine that you can taste with your fingers. But also, the trip in the city center. Refugees from the conflict between Eritrea and Ethiopia. Children as young as four years old with amputated limbs. Those who beg, their skulls open and purulent. And those who drink, squatting in the filthy black puddle at the foot of a mountain of garbage.

They inhabited my nightmares. I have never forgotten them.

It was the loss of innocence. The entry, too early perhaps, in the dramatic thickness of the world. I realized that one could have both feet cut off, and then be put out on the street. Being thirsty, and finding no one to offer you water. It left me with a distrust and a need for security in the world, which can tear you apart. I guess that the value I put in living in a cozy and beautiful interior - safe and caring, apparently - is an expression of this.

Move the lines at home

This trip has influenced my path. After a world tour that has been a painful wake-up call, I wrote a doctoral thesis in theology on the ecological challenge. Today, I am helping to open an activist space of believers committed to climate justice, with the interfaith NGO GreenFaith. I continue to reflect, as an ecological theologian, as a research associate at the University of Strasbourg (France). And as a volunteer, I chair the ecology-climate justice commission of the French Protestant Federation.

I have always seen these efforts as my action, here, for my neighbors, far away. When I returned from Africa or from my trip around the globe, I did not feel the call to leave one day and work directly on the spot. Particularly aware of the systemic nature of ecological issues and of our primary responsibility - and therefore our primary capacity - in the North, I consider that my contribution is to move the lines at home, in my country.

In fact, would it be possible to read Christ's call to give people something to drink today in connection with the climate challenge? The science is clear: climate change “will affect the availability, quality and quantity of water [...] threatening the effective enjoyment of the human rights to water and sanitation for potentially billions of people” (1).

The thirst is not only for water

Quenching thirst is no longer enough. It is a matter of preventing the number of thirsty people from exploding. Long-term changes (in rainfall, glacier melt, etc.) as well as one-off extreme events, which are becoming more intense and more frequent (heat waves, floods or storms, etc.), will seriously affect water resources. The first to be affected are and will be the tropical zones: poor populations, whose carbon emissions are ridiculous or even almost nil. What an injustice!

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice, and they will be satisfied," says Jesus (Mt 5:6). The thirst is not only for water. I hear the cry of so many young people, who are thirsty for a future that has an outcome and for an adult response from society. Or the concern of a growing number of parents and grandparents who love their children and grandchildren. I also care about the thirst of plant and animal creatures, precious to the God of life, and to my own.

In this season of Lent, let us see that we each have power for our neighbor. In our personal lives, through a path of ecological conversion that decreases our carbon footprint. In our ecclesial places, for example with initiatives like the “Eglise verte” (Green church) in France. Or at the systemic level, with a prophetic appeal to political and economic decision-makers, as in the case of opposition to Total's oil projects in Uganda and Tanzania, on the shores of lakes Albert and Victoria.

It's late, but it's not too late. Will you be part of it?

Martin Kopp is a research associate in protestant theology at the University of Strasbourg and the chair of the ecology-climate justice commission of the French Protestant Federation.

(1) The United Nations world water development report 2020: Water and climate change, executive summary

Click below to read the earlier reflection in this series.

"Feeding the hungry is rediscovering the mystery of the Eucharist"