All religions benefit from stewardship of the Earth.

Byline: GUEST VIEWPOINT By Yitzhak Husbands-Hankin and John Pitney

Last Sunday, people attending a forum at a local Christian church watched Al Gore's film about global warming, `An Inconvenient Truth.' A Muslim, a Jew and a Christian then gave their responses.

Asked why we should care about global warming, the Muslim told a proverb of his faith: `If you are planting a tree and someone tells you the messiah is coming, finish planting the tree, then seek the messiah.'

It was curious, because in another recent Earth-keeping forum, a rabbi told the same story from his faith.

An unprecedented cooperative effort called Spotlight On Global Warming is uniting thousands of people of many faiths. A project of the national Interfaith Power and Light network, it brings `An Inconvenient Truth' to faith communities.

During October, more than 4,000 congregations nationwide, 150 in Oregon and 11 locally, will see the film and plan responses. We find a common story in stewardship of Earth.

Jews, Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus and more join together, because this goes beyond scientific reality. It's one of the most serious moral, ethical and religious matters of our moment.

No matter what messiah or savior we seek, we have responsibility for the future we pass to our children and theirs. We must plant trees.

The story of Eden is central to many. Some say it gives permission to pillage and dominate. But scripture says the job of humanity is, literally, `to serve and keep' the garden. Levels of carbon dioxide higher than in 650,000 years suggest we are misreading the job description.

Glacier National Park without glaciers, drowning polar bears and baby walrus, rising Northwest snow levels, less river flow for salmon and more water wars flood the Earth with the grief of losing something dear. These are sins against the creator, insults to the best in us as human beings.

Stories born of many traditions warn of the consequences of greed. Torah teaches God will `seal up the heavens so no rain will fall.' Tribal stories tell of Coyote turning the greedy to stone. We may dispute details, but this we know: When humankind violates the fundamentals, feedback loops get ugly.

We are in the highest holy days. The Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashana, just past, is time to celebrate the opportunity for all people to rise to their highest and most whole being, for ourselves, for each other and for the world. During the fast of Ramadan, we join our Muslim neighbors, putting off the ordinary to see what matters most.

This is fitting. On a planet where we Americans, 4.5 percent of the population, produce 25 percent of greenhouse emissions, we need a new morality. We are not doing our job.

We call for justice where human-caused emissions make stronger storms like Katrina - storms that expose our national racism, our acceptance of the growing gap between haves and have-nots and our systemic indifference to poverty. The poor of the Earth suffer most for the indulgences of the wealthy.

These inconvenient truths are possibly our biggest chance ever to elevate humanity and become what we are: one world.

The practice of Sabbath is a common thread. In Sabbath, we stop consuming to remember we are souls, not merely producers, guests in the only home we have. Torah calls the whole Earth to Sabbath, allowing renewal for all creation.

It's time to take up that call. And it's no idle preaching. Congregations are taking a pledge through Oregon IPL to reduce emissions 20 percent by 2015.

When a citizen, congregation or business exchanges regular lights for fluorescents, adds insulation, buys wind power, rides the bus or goes solar despite the payback, and when governments give incentives for the same, Sabbath comes home.

We applaud Eugene's Sustainable Business Initiative as wholesome stewardship. We acknowledge our governor's courage to spend precious political capital forging a plan to cut emissions 25 percent by 2025. We look for economic systems that are less dependent on oil, and less prone to the shameful bloodshed wrought on the innocent children of the Earth for our addiction. We will applaud national leaders at the highest levels when they finally sign international emission agreements, demonstrating membership in the human family of nations.

Today, there are few places to experience the awesome as once we could. In the forest, brown-dead trees feign transcendence. At the ocean, bleached coral betrays sanctuary. In the same way a zoo is no jungle and a stagnant Columbia reservoir belies the once soul-stirring vibrancy of Celilo Falls, we are lost. Our children are without memory.

But we are waiting. We have hope despite the evidence. Now let us all finish planting trees.

The Rev. John Pitney is the associate pastor at First United Methodist Church of Eugene. Rabbi Yitzhak Husbands-Hankin is the senior rabbi at Temple Beth Israel of Eugene.