In the Garden

It was one of those moments when the things I learned in one part of God’s world intersected and harmonized with something I learned in another part, all beautified by artistic genius. I had already come to understand the wisdom of the great Scottish economist Adam Smith in describing the market mechanisms of pricing, supply and demand as God’s invisible hand of providence. I saw the dance described in Leonard Reed’s classic parable, I, Pencil.

I saw, however, by way of contrast, what sin had done to our dominion mandate when reading C.S. Lewis’ description of the creation of Narnia. In his The Magician’s Nephew, book 6 in the proper reading order, Lewis describes a new world’s birth where the ground begins to bubble up like a toasted cheese sandwich, as animals burst forth, shaking the dirt off themselves. We watch as silver and gold coins from our realm drop out of Uncle Andrew’s pockets, only to have a silver and a gold tree pop out of the ground.

Lewis gave us a picture of what fecundity might have looked like before sin opened Pandora’s box of thorns, thistles and the sweat of our brows. We can still, however, get a picture of what we yet have, and what we have lost. Consider farming.

Animals, when you put a boy and a girl together, beget more animals. Seeds, when you drop them into the ground bring forth food. We don’t have to get in the way to make this happen. Even Paul notes that one plants, another waters but the Lord gives the increase (I Cor. 3:6). What an astonishing world He has made.

Why then, if it’s so simple, are we not all prosperous farmers? Because of sin. I spent several hours yesterday sweating under the hot sun spraying our fruit trees. I’ve had to dispose of bag worms, pull weeds and still have to fence in my trees to keep the deer away. Though I don’t yet have chickens I do have a chicken coop, to protect my future chickens from various predators.

There remains sufficient fecundity that our family is out working the land the Lord has blessed us with. There is likewise joy and delight in that work. My office is now in a space shared with shelves bursting with the veggies Lisa grew in our garden and canned last season. As I sprayed yesterday I was serenaded by hundreds of birds as a breeze dealt with the sweat of my brow. This morning we once again had swans on our lake.

I would be a fool indeed to expect to be free in my labors of thorns and thistles. I would, however, be an even bigger fool were I to let thorns and thistles beat me down, lead me to miss the blessing of work. I look to the day when everything will be made right, when we will work free of thorns and thistles, when we find ourselves back in that life-giving garden where we walk with the Lord in the cool of the evening.