Moving Heaven and Earth

The photo in Vanity Fair's "Green Issue" is the best place to start. It shows just how far Richard Cizik will go to shatter stereotypes about evangelicals, defy the organization he represents, and spread his newfound environmental gospel. Cizik (make that Reverend Cizik, pronounced "size-ik") is the Washington lobbyist for the National Association of Evangelicals (NAE), the largest such group in the country, representing 45,000 churches and 30 million church-goers. But here he is, pictured in a magazine that had just put two actresses on the cover who were as naked as Eve. A magazine whose editor routinely rips on George W. Bush, the Evangelical in Chief. A magazine with enough harlotry and pride in its pages to fill a special circle in hell.

When the May issue came out, Jim Ball, Cizik's partner in this new eco-ministry, called. He asked, "Have you see the photo?"

"Not yet," Cizik replied. "How's it look?"

Pause. "It's weird." Another pause. "It's bizarre."

Cizik is barefoot, dressed in a black frock over a black shirt, the top button buttoned. He could be an old-timey preacher, or a prophet traversing some apocalyptic wasteland. He's moving toward an owl perched on a dead branch. It's weird all right, but provocative, which is what Cizik is after. He doesn't want to be a voice crying out in the wilderness. And the fact that he's included in the magazine with Al Gore and architect William McDonough (not to mention Hollywood perennials such as Julia Roberts and George Clooney) suggests that isn't the case. On the contrary, he and his fellow environmental evangelicals are now a force to be reckoned with.

In February, Cizik and Ball kicked off a groundbreaking campaign to convince evangelicals that the fight against global warming is their Christian duty. At a press conference in Washington, DC, the Evangelical Climate Initiative (ECI) spelled out its biblical underpinnings and called for reducing fossil-fuel use and passing tougher environmental laws to help prevent catastrophic droughts and flooding. Although those suggestions were hardly radical, the event made national headlines: Cizik and Ball had persuaded 86 evangelical leaders to sign on--pastors of megachurches, evangelical college presidents, the head of the Salvation Army, even Rick Warren, author of the best-seller The Purpose-Driven Life. The ECI also ran full-page ads in The New York Times, Roll Call, and Christianity Today, along with radio and TV ads on Christian and Fox stations in 15 states with key congressional campaigns this year.

Cizik and Ball triggered a family feud. Until now, climate change hasn't stirred the same righteous fury or created the kind of consensus among evangelicals that, say, abortion has. The loudest agitators, after all, tend to be liberal Democrats, hardly their natural bedfellows. Also, global warming tends to pit science against faith, making it a tough sell. "Many evangelicals think that because they don't believe in evolution, they have to reject the science of global warming, too" says Cizik. Some insist the science is inconclusive or the ECI is misinterpreting Scripture. Others accept that the climate is heating up but doubt the extent of the damage or the feasibility of solutions. The planet self-corrects, they say. Still others believe global warming to be a sign of the apocalypse and the second coming of Christ.

Precisely because the issue is divisive, the right wing of the religious right prefers a hands-off approach. "The concern is that it'll break up the group politically," says John Green, a senior fellow at the Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life.

That concern explains the one glaring omission among the signers of the February call to arms: Cizik himself. Higher powers at the NAE, he said, insisted he remove his name after it received a letter from 22 evangelical leaders--including heavyweights James Dobson of Focus on the Family and Richard Land of the Southern Baptists Convention--urging the group to avoid a global-warming policy and to avoid speaking out (translation: Cizik, its oft-quoted spokesman, should zip it). "It looked like Tony Soprano had whacked one of his own," says Cizik. "People asked me, 'Rich, do you still have a job?' "

"Many evangelicals think that because they don't believe in evolution, they have to reject the science of global warming, too."

He does. And he's still sticking his neck out, because he understands that real leadership sometimes means angering your friends. So he and Ball are busily targeting young evangelicals, key senators, and Republicans in general. "We're going to squeeze the Republicans until they see the light," says Cizik, an unabashed Reaganite. "This has been perceived as a left-wing issue, not a mainstream issue or a spiritual issue, but we're changing that."