At the northeastern edge of Alaska lies a stretch of tundra that has been called many names: the Coastal Plain, the 1002 Area, the crown jewel of the refuge system. But to the Gwich’in people, whose villages span northeast Alaska and northwest Canada, this land has always been known as Iizhik Gwats’an Gwandaii Goodlit: The Sacred Place Where Life Begins.

In the Gwich’in creation story, long ago the Gwich’in and the caribou were one. When they became two beings, they made an agreement: the caribou would sustain the people, and the people would protect the caribou. Each would carry a piece of the other’s heart. That covenant still lives today in the migration of the Porcupine Caribou Herd, whose calving grounds lie on the coastal plain of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. When the caribou return each spring to give birth, the Gwich’in see the continuation of life itself — a rhythm unbroken for millennia.

For decades, that rhythm has been under threat. Since conservationists Olaus and Mardy Murie first campaigned to protect this region in the 1950s, the Arctic Refuge has stood at the crossroads of two visions of the world: one that sees the land as worthy of stewardship and protection, and another that sees it as a resource to be extracted. The Refuge was created in 1960 and expanded in 1980 to its current 19.6 million acres — an expanse larger than West Virginia, home to caribou, polar bears, musk oxen, and millions of migratory birds. But ever since Congress granted itself authority over the coastal plain, politicians and oil companies have been locked in a decades-long struggle to drill it open.

Each generation has had to take up this fight anew: President Carter’s protection of the land was met by calls for drilling in the 1980s; President Clinton vetoed a budget that would have opened the refuge in the 1990s;  and there were several filibusters, lawsuits, and temporary moratoriums in the 2000s and 2010s. In 2017, Congress finally succeeded in opening the coastal plain to leasing — but not to drilling, because no oil company wanted to buy the leases. The land is too remote, the costs too high, and the world is moving on from oil. Still, in 2025, the fight has returned again.

Right now, the Arctic Refuge faces a two-fold attack. In Congress, some lawmakers are attempting to use the Congressional Review Act to overturn the Bureau of Land Management’s 2024 management plan, which restored long-overdue protections to this ground. At the same time, the Bureau of Land Management has opened the door to a new round of oil and gas lease sales across millions of acres in the Western Arctic. Together, these efforts threaten to roll back years of progress and to reinstate the deeply flawed plan that even the Interior Department admitted had “multiple legal deficiencies.” If successful, they would reopen the refuge to leasing and drilling, endangering caribou calving grounds, polar bear dens, and part of the culture of the Gwich’in Nation.

The Arctic National Wildlife Refuge is not an empty wilderness, it is part of Creation. As a Christian, I believe there are some places that must remain sanctuaries. Just as our churches protect the sacredness of worship, so too must we protect and preserve lands so that God’s creation can flourish. 

The Gwich’in have prayed for generations that leaders might “find it in their hearts to protect the coastal plain of the Arctic Refuge — the Sacred Place Where Life Begins.” Their prayer is an invitation for all of us to act.

Creation Justice Ministries is joining faith partners across the country in urging Congress to oppose this misuse of the Congressional Review Act and to permanently protect the Arctic Refuge from drilling. You can add your voice to this call through our current action alert.

Let us not be the generation that forgot to steward the land that God provided, and who traded long-term creation care for short-term financial gains. Let us, instead, be the people who remembered that the world belongs to God - and treat it that way.

Join us in prayer:

Creator of caribou and tundra,
You who called forth light on the first morning
and who still breathe life into the frozen north,
we give thanks for the Arctic Refuge —
for the waters that glimmer beneath the midnight sun,
for the calving grounds where new life begins,
and for the Gwich’in people who have kept covenant
with this land since time beyond memory.

Forgive us, O God,
for the ways we have treated Your earth
as a storehouse rather than a sanctuary,
as a resource rather than a relative.
Forgive us for the noise of our drilling
that drowns out the songs of Your creation.

Give us the courage to stand firm —
to resist the powers that seek to exploit and destroy,
to join our prayers with those of the people 
whose hearts are bound to this land.

Bless those who lead and legislate,
that they may find it in their hearts
to protect what You have declared good.
Let justice roll down like Arctic rivers,
and righteousness like thawing streams
that renew the face of the earth.

We pray in the name of Jesus Christ,
who was born among the creatures,
baptized in living water,
and reconciles all things in heaven and on earth.

Amen.