In the heart of Brasília, beneath the sweeping concrete shell of Oscar Niemeyer’s Memorial of Indigenous Peoples, a unique gathering unfolded on August 13, 2025. Religious leaders, environmental activists, government officials, and Indigenous representatives formed a circle, united by a single urgent cause: the planet’s climate crisis. This spiritual mobilization, dubbed “Faith in the Climate 2025: A Spiritual and Ethical Call towards COP30,” was more than a ceremony—it was a clarion call for collective action ahead of the United Nations’ 30th Conference on Climate Change (COP30), set for November in Belém, Pará, Brazil.
While the world’s attention often turns to the technicalities of international treaties and the wrangling of diplomats, this gathering offered a different perspective. It was a reminder that, at its core, the climate emergency is as much a moral and spiritual challenge as it is a scientific or political one. According to Agência Brasil, the movement was launched in 2015 by the Institute for Religious Studies (ISER), the Brazil Climate Center (CBC), and the Brazilian Forum on Climate Change (FBMC) to engage faith leaders in confronting the climate crisis. Over the past decade, it has grown into a powerful platform for interfaith dialogue and action.
The event’s timing was no accident. It coincided with the visit of U.S. activist Karenna Gore—daughter of former Vice President Al Gore and Executive Director of the Center for Earth Ethics—who was invited by Brazil’s Minister of the Environment and Climate Change, Marina Silva, to serve as North America coordinator for the Global Ethical Stocktake (GES). The GES aims to inject a stronger ethical dimension into global climate action, particularly in the run-up to COP30, which many hope will be remembered as the “Conference of Implementation.”
Gathered under the Memorial’s dome, participants shared how their respective faiths address the relationship between humanity and nature. Indigenous leaders Ramona Jucá and Ju Yam opened the ceremony with traditional songs, underscoring the foundational role of Indigenous peoples as the original stewards of the land. Jucá’s invitation to sing the chant “Step lightly, if you can’t handle the ant, don’t stir up the anthill” set a tone of humility and respect for the natural world—a message echoed throughout the gathering.
Minister Marina Silva, drawing on her Christian faith, used the biblical story of Abraham’s altar of unhewn stones as a metaphor for the difficult but necessary work of coalition-building in climate action. “A large part of this mortar will remain in the gaps because the fit will not be perfect. I always think of this mortar as love, respect, the willingness to depend on one another—on each other’s perspective, on each other’s listening, on each other’s support—without which we would not be here,” she reflected. Silva emphasized that faith and science must work hand in hand, particularly to secure resources for vulnerable countries already suffering the brunt of climate change. “Of the US$ 13 trillion needed, not even US$ 100 billion has been secured so far,” she warned, highlighting the world’s shortfall in climate finance.
Ana Toni, the Executive Director of COP30, described the conference as a turning point. “As this is intended to be the Conference of Implementation, the GES will serve as the compass to guide how Brazil will enact changes. It will depend on each of us,” she stated. The four mobilization cycles leading up to COP30—the Global Ethical Stocktake, the Circle of Peoples, the Circle of Finance Ministers, and the Circle of former COP presidents—are designed to ensure that a broad spectrum of voices and experiences shape the agenda.
Karenna Gore, reflecting on her return to Brazil, spoke candidly about the urgency of the climate crisis and the need for collective action. “The challenge is to act collectively without destroying habitats and to find how faith can help humanity on the path to preservation,” she said. Gore acknowledged that while the United States benefits from the world’s forests, it must also take responsibility for protecting them.
The event also highlighted the deep connections between faith and environmental stewardship across traditions. Mãe Cícera de Oxum, representing Umbanda, spoke passionately about the centrality of nature in Afro-Brazilian religions: “Without nature, there is no religion. Without leaves, there are no saints. Without bark, there is no medicine. Without roots, there is no medicine. The forest, nature, faithfully guards our gods.” Prem Kumar, president of Brasília’s Jnana Mandiram and a representative of Hinduism, drew parallels between the cyclical concept of time in Hinduism and Indigenous worldviews, noting, “There is progress and there is evolution, but it is evolution in a spiral; this is also the vision of Brazilian Indigenous peoples.”
Yet as faith communities mobilize, the political front remains fraught with division. Just days before the Brasília gathering, representatives from 184 countries met in Geneva for the Intergovernmental Negotiating Committee’s latest round (INC 5.2) on a global plastics treaty. According to Mongabay, the session went into overtime but failed to reach a consensus on two critical issues: whether to cap new plastic production and how to address the toxic chemicals in plastics. More than 100 countries in the High Ambition Coalition pushed for a binding treaty to limit production and restrict hazardous chemicals. But a bloc of petrochemical-producing nations, including Iran, Russia, and Saudi Arabia, advocated for focusing on waste management and recycling—despite the fact that less than 10% of plastic is recycled globally. The United States, one of the world’s largest plastic producers, reportedly urged countries to reject production caps and chemical restrictions.
The deadlock at the U.N. meeting, which operates by consensus, left no binding decisions in place. French environment minister Agnès Pannier-Runacher didn’t mince words, declaring, “A handful of countries, guided by short-term financial interests rather than the health of their populations and the sustainability of their economies, blocked the adoption of an ambitious treaty against plastic pollution.” The consequences are stark: current estimates suggest plastic waste could triple in the coming decades, further polluting oceans, land, wildlife, and even our bodies. Most plastic is derived from fossil fuels, making it a double threat—to the environment and to climate stability.
The human cost is most visible in places like Houston, Texas, home to the largest petrochemical complex in the United States. Children living near the facility face a 56% higher risk of leukemia compared to those farther away. Shiv Srivastava, policy director for the environmental justice group Fenceline Watch, lost his mother to lung disease linked to pollution from plastic production. “There’s a whole host of health impacts that are associated with it [plastic production]. For what? A ketchup packet that you didn’t ask for in your fast-food bag? Nobody deserves to lose their life for this,” he told Mongabay.
Despite the setback in Geneva, advocates like Björn Beeler of the International Pollutants Elimination Network remain undeterred. “Consensus is dead,” he said, insisting that the fight for a global plastics treaty is a marathon, not a sprint. “This is a problem that’s not going away. You can try to bury your head in the sand, but it’s just not going away.”
As COP30 approaches, the intersection of faith, science, and policy is coming into sharper focus. With spiritual leaders, scientists, and activists now pulling in the same direction, the hope is that new forms of cooperation—and a renewed sense of ethical responsibility—can finally tip the scales in favor of meaningful global action.
