In Western climate action spaces, religion is often overlooked, despite its significant role in shaping perspectives on the environment. A PRRI survey suggests that, in the U.S., individuals who prioritise religion are less likely to believe in human-caused climate change, reflecting a broader tension between faith and science. For many, the climate crisis intensifies this friction, fueling spiritual conflict and uncertainty. To explore this complexity, Iinterviewed three students of faith to understand how their religious beliefs intersect with their experiences of climate anxiety, hope, and activism. Their stories reveal a nuanced relationship between faith and the climate crisis.
A common thread throughout the interviews was that students’ concern for the climate was not spurred by faith, but supported by the morals their belief systems fostered. A recent graduate from Maynooth University, Hope Omoregie, claims that her interest in the climate is a recent development, coming from her interactions with others in the social justice space. To her, addressing the climate crisis is paramount due to its interconnectedness with the struggles of marginalised communities, a cause she cares deeply about. In her words, “there is no way you could read the bible without justice and love”, and that climate justice as a form of social justice is a part of her “contribution to the body of Christ”.
Another student interviewed reflected similar sentiments, citing that “the Jewish principle of Tikkun Olam, or repairing the world, supports and compels me to do everything I can to support marginalised communities, because, ultimately, the climate crisis is a human issue. Our planet will bounce back, our ecosystems will restructure themselves like they always have, but you can’t undo the pain and suffering people will incur from the man-made natural disasters we’re barreling towards”. This student, who wishes to remain anonymous, says they were aware of climate change far before they had a meaningful relationship with faith, claiming that concern for political issues “emotionally replaced faith” as a teenager, but that they’ve grown into a religious belief that “supports and nourishes a need to create a kinder world and a better sense of self”.
Annika Leistensnider, a fourth-year linguistics student, attests that their experience has been more complex. Their academic interest, curiosity, and healthy scepticism drew them to religion as a young teen, and that, as she got older, faith leaders discouraged these traits. As his political and social awareness grew in his late teens, she began to apply the same principles and questioning in his religious life, saying their “more complex political beliefs introduced a more interrogation-centred approach to all aspects of [their] life” and that “nuance in [their] climate beliefs meant nuance in [their] religious beliefs”. For her, this new nuance created distance between them and their Catholic community and a de-prioritisation of organised religion in her life.
The distance between faith communities and the change makers within them was also a universal sentiment. “[The congregation] is controversy-averse; they weren’t as initially supportive of my activism as I wanted them to be”, Hope recalled, later saying that her community warmed up to her work and continue to encourage her successes. This sentiment was mirrored in both other interviews, with one interviewee writing that “the Jewish community is incredibly small here in Dublin, and I’ve faced backlash from my peers for publicly associating my political beliefs with my Jewish ethics. Even if I wanted to speak out about how climate change is a religious issue, I worry I’d be ostracised”. This tension between personal activism and community acceptance highlights the complex relationship between faith-based values and modern social justice efforts, where initial resistance can give way to support but remains tempered by fear of alienation.
There is strong historic precedent for religious institutions as drivers of social and political change, with Latin American Catholic churches pioneering liberation theology in the 1960s and African-American churches like Rev. Dr. King’s serving as the social and financial backbone of the American Civil Rights movement. In the interview, Hope expressed her surprise at learning that Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was a Baptist minister: “…he was a preacher, a man of God, and he drove the civil rights movement in America. He preached justice, and yet we never discuss that part of his life”. Both named interviewees felt that Christian institutions did not do enough to further climate action, particularly given their position as moral authorities over their congregants. “I was impressed by Pope Francis’s letter on climate change [Laudato si`] when it came out.”, Annika expressed. “But I felt like everyone nodded and moved on. Even when the Pope tells you to make change, the structure of the [Catholic] Church is not conducive to intrinsic motivation, so no one can build the momentum for any kind of change”. It could be argued that, despite this sentiment, many modern movements are built on the backs of religion. Notably, these movements are largely right-wing, such as the Christian anti-abortion movement and Hindu nationalism. The intersection between religion and politics does not inherently create conservative movements, but the current prevalence of the religious right as the opposition to climate activism traps activists of faith between two causes.
For progressive and left-wing students of faith, pushing back against the dominant narrative, both within their religious communities and institutions and within a society that increasingly associates faith with regressive beliefs is a struggle. Some, like Annika, move further away from organised religion as a result, and others continue to hold their faith close while moving through activism spaces. Regardless, their beliefs drive their moral obligation towards climate action, but the aversion of their religious communities towards ‘controversial’ topics hinders their ability to take collective action.
