‘Don’t worry about being effective. Just concentrate on being faithful to the truth.’

The words of a modern-day saint, Dorothy Day – and yet climate activists do worry about being effective. We do want to change the world; certainly, we want to challenge a world dominated by billionaires and the power of the fossil fuel industry. As the impact of climate breakdown unfolds upon those who did least to create it, the climate movement struggles to ‘speak truth to power’ because power isn’t listening! At the same time, I go about my life trying to be faithful to the truth I see revealed in a first century Palestinian Jew. What does this look like?

When I am in ‘parish priest’ mode I carry a large black handbag, when in ‘protesting priest’ mode I change to a red backpack. While reflecting on ten years of dog-collared, visible presence in the climate movement, I considered the changing contents of that backpack. The contents of the handbag have remained largely the same, perhaps an indication that parish life and pastoral care remain constants. By contrast, the contents of my backpack have changed to adapt to a changing world: a world whose invisible fractures are daily more visible and where those in power are exercising increasingly draconian means of suppression.

Now I always carry a ‘bust card’, leave all my ID at home; sometimes I use a burner phone. The pack always has water, a first aid kit and an emergency blanket, snacks and a book. As this suggests, things have changed in the activist world, not least because of the 2022 Police, Crime and Sentencing Bill. There are however some constants, and here I hope to explore both the changes and the constants. A thread that runs throughout has to be Christ’s call to stand with the vulnerable and marginalised.

We should live in such a way that our lives wouldn’t make much sense if the gospel were not true. (Dorothy Day)

What that looks and feels like will change according to context, but the call remains clear. In the context of a climate and biodiversity crisis, the vulnerable are those least responsible for the damage – and the marginalised now includes those species threatened with extinction.

In 2018 the publication of the Inter-Governmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report and its front-page coverage in The Guardian newspaper (Watts, 2018) catapulted my climate activism to new levels. As the emergency became increasingly urgent, so too did the need for action. I had already been involved in a small way in the anti-fracking movement in the Surrey Hills where I live and with the Syrian Resettlement Scheme, so when I found a diary entry for the Quaker Meeting Hall in Dorking, I thought it was for a Sanctuary City event. Instead, I found myself in a ‘Rising Up’ gathering (Commonweal, 2018). This was the beginning of Extinction Rebellion (XR) as a movement. Its roots were surprisingly, but intentionally, spiritual and so I stayed, drawn in by the emphasis on the climate crisis as both a spiritual and environmental crisis. Extinction Rebellion is now morphing into new and divergent pathways but at the time it provided me with a home. For over five years my XR family often felt more authentically Christ-like than my church family. I had found the ones who gave me life. Here we wept, struggled, organised for change, for justice. Here we dreamt of God’s kingdom. Suddenly my clerical collar and my backpack were in constant use, and the liturgies of my ‘workplace’ found new authenticity on the streets. My prayer life evolved into something far more public than I could ever have imagined and I found treasure in the tarmac. To this day I find myself most quickly connected to deep contemplation when I sit or kneel on a pavement.

Since 2018 I have been involved in many forms of activism. I have been arrested, I have been yelled at, I have been told multiple times to ‘get a job’, been called a crusty, a terrorist and much worse. I have sat through the night outside the Houses of Parliament, slept on Edgware Road, celebrated Eucharist in Whitehall, Trafalgar Square and Parliament Square, washed feet on Maundy Thursday at Marble Arch, carried Noah’s Ark with Chris Packham, prayed on the pavement outside St Paul’s Cathedral with Rowan Williams, prostrated myself over the secret HS2 tunnels in Euston Square, unfurled giant posters in the National Gallery, let off flares, issued Citizens’ Arrests on CEO’s and been moved on multiple times by the police. The list goes on and merely mirrors the actions of millions of concerned citizens the world over.

I learnt very quickly that resistance isn’t a single-tracked beast, but an ecosystem. It depends on the visible and invisible, a mycelium network of people and ideas. Extinction Rebellion had a very dramatic and colourful arrival in the public square, but it was built out of such an ecosystem, a collection of people willing to dream and think outside the box that the powerful would like to keep firmly shut. This wonderful mobilisation of love is beautifully described in two publications that followed the early rebellions: This is Not a Drill (2019) and Time to Act (2020). The fact that SPCK wanted to document the input of faith communities to these protests speaks volumes (Extinction Rebellion, 2019; Williams, 2020).

Here are just a few examples of the tactics used by the climate emergency movement over years of campaigning, protesting, marching.

Colourful public demonstrations and occupations:
Symbolic actions like the Funeral Procession down the Mall to deliver a letter to Queen Elizabeth II which included faith representatives such as myself in cassock and collar, sandwiched between a goth mourner and a Buddhist monk.

Silence:
This was perhaps the most unexpected, but we held something called ‘The Pause’. Bells would ring, the procession would halt and for two minutes everything stopped. The power of this shared silence was extraordinary and brought me some of my most profound and prayerful protest moments.

Liturgy (symbolic action):
Performance and ritual remain an important aspect of climate activism and harks back to the ‘Clown Army’ and other similar resistance grounded in theatre. Clown Army is described as ‘a new methodology of civil disobedience, merging the ancient art of clowning with contemporary tactics of nonviolent direct action, which became an international protest phenomenon in the early 2000s.’ For the faith communities it provided an opportunity to take our traditions, rituals and liturgies out onto the streets. It was in this type of action that I was most surprised by the welcome of the wider activist community. On Palm Sunday I carried Palm Crosses into Paternoster Square to add to the offerings; on Maundy Thursday I invited clergy to come to Marble Arch with me after the Chrism Service and there we washed the feet of dozens of tired and dirty rebels; on Good Friday we conducted a creation-themed ‘Stations of the Cross’. All these and more attracted genuine curiosity and engagement and came to life in ways I have never experienced within the walls of a church.

Pilgrimage:
I have found enormous power in the ancient tradition of pilgrimage. Banned by Thomas Cromwell in 1538, it has undergone a revival in this country and has become a vital part of my own spiritual practice. Perhaps its most notable use within the climate movement has been linked to the annual Conference of the Parties, hosted in a different country each year with a large contingent walking to Paris in 2015. In 2021 I was part of a group that set out from St James’ Piccadilly to walk to COP26 in Glasgow. The impact of walking, praying, singing, sleeping, eating, laughing together over 500 miles and 56 days was, unlike the distance, unquantifiable.

Vigil:
Once in Glasgow we held a 10-day silent vigil outside the Blue Zone. Vigil has become a core part of the witness and work of Christian Climate Action but is not limited merely to the Christian community. Space is often shared with other faiths, and as with ‘The Pause’, is a powerful counter to the cacophony often associated with protest. Vigil, especially when held around the clock, powerfully impacts both participant and passer-by.

Boycott:
Economic boycotting is familiar to many from the campaign against apartheid in South Africa. Boycott and the naming and shaming of corporations and big businesses who underpin the fossil fuel industry is vital and achievable for those who do not participate in more public forms of dissent. There are many Christian groups advocating for divestment and this is something that is accessible at a parish level.

Civil disobedience:
This is perhaps the most contentious aspect of protest for those who do not believe we should be disruptive. It puts activists beyond the pale, since the changes in protest law it has put activists in prison. Civil disobedience or Non-violent Direct Action has long been part of Christian witness, must notably in the Civil Rights Movement as supported by Martin Luther King, a vast company of indigenous land defenders and the Roman Catholic priest-activists Dan and Philip Berrigan and Father John Dear. The most recent and obvious English example lies with the Suffragette Movement, now celebrated by those who legislate against peaceful protest. Today, we still have in our midst activists who stand on the shoulders of these figures.

Civil Disobedience is not an easy calling, but it means taking seriously the prayer of penitence many of us respond to every Sunday, ‘Let us confess our sins in penitence and faith, firmly resolved to keep God’s commandments and to live in love and peace with all’. In the face of the gross injustices of our vulture capitalist economy (Blakeley, 2024) and an erosion of our legal systems, then keeping God’s commandments may well challenge us to break secular commandments. We have seen rows of clergy and others arrested as they kneel before the deportation centres of Minneapolis, putting their bodies between ICE agents and those they seek violently to deport. As climate breakdown displaces increasing numbers of people and the global superpowers go to war over resources we will, I believe, be called to levels of resistance that require a depth of courage reminiscent of the early church under persecution.

Song:
I include song as a means of protest and a glimpse of joy, because on so many occasions it has been singing that has given me courage, connection with others and reminded me of those who have gone before. We have a strong tradition of protest song, and their lyrics both link us to that history and also can be reconfigured to suit our times. Billy Bragg recently shared a new song in response to the far-right attempt to reclaim 'Christmas Carol Concert' (Bragg, 2025) and the adaptation of a Julian of Norwich quote by Penny Stone has brought me calm and comfort on many occasions: “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well, for there is a force of love moving through the universe that holds us fast and will never let us go” (Stone, 2025). Scripture of course references song frequently: perhaps most well-known is Psalm 31.24, and of course the efficacy of singing is mentioned in the Letters to the Ephesians (5.19) and Colossians (3.16).

The awful truth is, however, that despite all this the planet is still hurtling towards a projected three degrees above pre-industrial levels of CO2. I now visit friends who are in prison for their actions. I have walked a 26-mile pilgrimage from HMP Bronzefield to the Royal Courts of Justice, led prayers outside Woolwich Crown Court, held Ash Wednesday services outside the Department of Energy. I continue to do this as coral reefs die, as parts of the Amazon are emitting more carbon than they absorb, as we record significant weakening of the circulation of the Atlantic Meridional Overturning Circulation, and scientists are becoming increasingly concerned that a climate tipping point may be close. Meanwhile, there are rich and powerful Climate Deniers controlling parts of our media; and we see an increase in Climate Denial within sections of the Christian community, the flagship being GB News, part-owned by Paul Marshall who also funds the growing Holy Trinity Brompton empire.

Sleepless nights, a criminal conviction, miles of walking, hours of vigil – all for nothing?
Fast forward seven years from Rising Up in Dorking to 18 September 2025, and my diary lists a conference at Southwark Cathedral, this time though I have also noted down the topic as ‘Preaching Truth to Power’. The guest preacher and panellist was Bishop Marriann Edgar Budde whose book How We Learn to be Brave (2023) I had just read. On the same day Christian Climate Action were aiming to occupy cathedral towers as part of our ‘Stop Crucifying Creation’. After twelve months of planning, small groups of activists were to take cathedral tower tours, drop banners from the top and then refuse to come down until the Dean or Bishop engaged with them. My own small part in the campaign was to stand up in front of the speakers and attendees in Southwark Cathedral and hold a ‘Stop Crucifying Creation’ banner which I pulled out of the same backpack that in the spring of 2018 had contained a copy of Pope Francis’ encyclical ‘Laudato Si’. On this occasion I was relieved to be greeted with applause and was even afforded a moment at the microphone.

In her autobiographical book, Bishop Budde describes the accumulated decisions of a lifetime preparing her for moments when she felt called to ‘speak truth to power’. She suggests that the accumulation of experiences and the practice of small acts of courage lead to a readiness for bravery when it is needed. All our lives are a preparation for those moments when we are called to witness with a courage we did not know we had. In the Christian tradition, I think this is how we experience that invisible force of the Trinity: the Holy Spirit which like a sacrament becomes, through the actions of human bodies, the outward and visible sign of an inward and visible mystery.

When we see acts of witness, courage and resistance they can often appear spontaneous, but almost always they are the result of training, thinking, prayer and organising. In a recent essay ‘What Technology takes from us – and how to take it back’, Rebecca Solnit calls for a greater connection with the natural world, with physical labour and other forms of embodied activity. Immersion in the wisdom of ancient religious and therapeutic practices as well as cultivating connections with the non-human world are integral to a recovery of our true humanity, reminding us that ‘there are many kinds of consciousness and that our species is itself not alone.’ She continues: ‘A lot of spiritual teachings are simple; the challenge is to live them. A meaning, a truth, can sink into you, get incorporated into your worldview in a way that can be transformative, or not.’ (Solnit, 2026)

However, when the threat is not a concrete thing, such as an ICE agent abducting a child, a President in a pew, it feels incredibly hard to know how to intervene. I cannot hold back the flood waters in Bangladesh, or make the crops grow in a drought – but I do know that my small acts can have ripple effects. Above all, in the words of Audre Lorde, ‘without community, there is no liberation’. I do know that I can do more in community, that I need to remember my own interconnectedness and my kinship with all things, that I am part of a mycelium of networks, communities, activities that are rooted in hope, and that hope is a verb. I need also to remember the foundational story that motivates me, the good news that shows us that God is where the suffering is, that God is, in the words of Father Richard Rohr, ‘in all things’. ‘Once we know that the entire physical world around us, all of creation, is both the hiding place and the revelation place for God, this world becomes home, safe, enchanted, offering grace to any who look deeply.’ (Rohr, 2026)

I remind myself that in the gospel narratives we find accounts of Jesus’ varied approach to healing and relating to the people he encountered and the fractures in the world he experienced, and that after three years of such engagement Jesus’ ministry culminated in the violent overturning of the tables in the temple. The example we have in the gospels is a community of prayer, a group living under empire, walking, eating, resting, praying together, laughing. Their preparation for spreading the good news, for becoming people of ‘the way’ was through their hearts, minds and bodies. Their presence in the public square was one of vulnerability in a material sense but strength in a spiritual and emotional sense.

Today, the powerful may not be listening but people are listening to each other, are supporting each other, learning from each other, mobilising together in a rich and mixed ecology of activism.

As well as some notable theologians, I have taken great strength from the work of thinkers outside the church: in particular adrienne maree brown on Emergent Strategy (brown, 2017) and Joanna Macy on Active Hope.

For successful movements, we need to develop strong, action-oriented communities that understand that their analysis and work cannot be limited to one struggle. Together we must be advancing the frontline of our vision for a sustainable, just world. (brown, 2017, p. 62) 

As a climate activist I am constantly challenged as to how best to use my time and energy to raise awareness of the systemic embedded injustice of the climate collapse we see all around us. As someone who lives in one of the wealthiest most privileged societies in the world, how do I level my own behaviour with the uninvited sacrifices and harm that the lifestyle of the post-industrial nation of which I am a part is forcing those who have done least and benefitted least from the extractivism that has caused this breakdown?

Experiencing the mixed ecology of activism through the lens of my own faith has been and continues to be an adventure from which I am constantly learning. This is nurtured by a belief ‘in the transformational power of community to change lives and the world. Only in community can justice and love be done.’ Above all else, the most powerful experience for me has been this building of solidarity and community, resulting in a shaking off of the isolation of despair that so easily pervades in a world where our sense of connection with both human and other-than-human lives is increasingly under threat.

Extinction Rebellion Prayer (October 2019)
Truth telling God,
weave a thread of love and courage
among those who stand for creation this week.
May they know the sound of your voice in all they do.
May your love echo across the streets of London
so that the sap of change can rise in the mess of the city,
and seep into the corridors of power
to bring the dawning of a new day where the web of life is
sanctified, renewed and replenished.
Amen, Lord have Mercy.

Poem-Prayer for Horse Hill (December 2019)
Here we stand,
pushed centre stage and centre road by bullies and by their greed.
We stand in solidarity with all who have encountered
aggression and intimidation when advocating for peaceful protest,
for safeguarding our sacred earth,
for all the Davids against all the Goliaths.
So peace-making, justice-seeking, vulnerable God,
we stand as vulnerable witnesses to a world desecrated
and irrevocably damaged
by a system that traps and enthrals us.
Give us strength to stand here and pray,
to hold this space at this time for all that is sacred here and now,
beneath our feet, beyond this fencing, out of site.
May your deep peace
not a pathetic limp peace, but a vigorous
peace filled with justice and love
and held deep deep in our hearts
strengthen us in our community here,
as we pray for change
as we pray for an end to all
that harms the fragile web of life.

Helen Burnett vicar of St Peter and St Paul’s Church in Chaldon, Surrey and a member of Extinction Rebellion and Christian Climate Action.

References
Blakeley, Grace, 2024, Vulture Capitalism: How to Survive in an Age of Corporate Greed, London: Bloomsbury.
Bragg, Billy, 2025, ‘Put Christ Back into Christmas’, YouTube, (online), available at: https://youtu.be/liRd9pjSBDA?si=zUAs9bXsOt3HP1UJ
brown, adrienne maree, 2017, Emergent Strategy: Shaping Change, Changing Worlds, Chico, CA: AK Press.
Budde, Mariann Edgar, 2023, How We Learn to be Brave: Decisive Moments in Life and Faith, Milton Keynes: Authentic Media.
Commonweal, 2018, ‘Hope dies, action begins: an interview with RisingUp’s Gail Bradbrook’ (online), available at:
https://www.commonwealnonviolence.org/blogs/hope-dies-action-begins-an-interview-with-risingups-gail-bradbrook
Extinction Rebellion, 2019, This is not a Drill, London: Penguin.
Rohr, Richard, 2026, ‘God is Calling Every One’ Center for Contemplation and Action (online), 23rd January, available at: https://cac.org/daily-meditations/god-is-calling-every-one/
Solnit, Rebecca, 2026, ‘What Technology Takes from us – and how to take it back’, Guardian (online), 29th January, available at: https://www.theguardian.com/news/ng-interactive/2026/jan/29/what-technology-takes-from-us-and-how-to-take-it-back?CMP=share_btn_url
Stone, Penny, 2025, ‘A Force of Love’, YouTube, (online), https://youtu.be/B_AL9nIgbfk?si=zYhrzWP69m61Qcko

Watts, Jonathan, 2018, ‘We have 12 years to limit climate change catastrophe, warns UN’, The Guardian (online), October 8, available at: https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2018/oct/08/global-warming-must-not-exceed-15c-warns-landmark-un-report
Williams, Jeremy, 2020, Time to Act: A Resource Book by the Christians in Extinction Rebellion, London, SPCK.