Cultivation: Lessons from the Garden
When we moved into our new home, one of my favorite features was a beautiful Japanese maple in the yard. It was small and compact, with a slender, graceful trunk that curved into an ornate spread of branches. Its leaves were a deep burgundy, flecked with white blossoms. I loved that tree. So, one year, when its smooth trunk began to gnarl and the blossoms failed to appear, I panicked. I consulted my hobby-arborist friend, who knows more about trees than I ever will, and we ran through a few tips on how to revive it. I dug in, transplanting soil, watering, fertilizing, and hoping. As I waited for the coming spring, I sent my friend a picture of the dormant tree newly encircled by rich, dark earth. The caption read, “Practicing resurrection.” Alas, it was not meant to be. A storm with strong winds lifted the tree clean up, tearing its trunk from the rotted root system. As sad as I was, the toil and hope I had invested in that little tree enlivened some valuable spiritual truths in my mind (other than the fact that my resurrection skills are clearly lacking).
The Keeper of the Garden
Japanese maple killing notwithstanding, I am fascinated by spiritual themes related to plants and cultivation. The Bible opens with a garden, sylvan imagery courses through almost every book, and it ends with the creation of an eternal city, at the center of which is—you guessed it—a tree. Almost everywhere we turn in the pages of Scripture, God’s truth is conveyed through rich images of soil, trees, branches, leaves, and fruit. We see righteous oaks, cursed fig trees, ancient roots, and cut-down stumps that inexplicably sprout new life. When faced with the consequence of sin, our first parents reached for leaves to cover their shame, and when God himself determined to pay the penalty for the curse of sin forever, he did so by sending his Son to hang on a tree in our place. The heart of spiritual life itself is depicted in gardening terms as we are called to abide in Christ like shoots stemming from the true vine.[1] Garden imagery pervades our mission as well: rooted in Christ, we now labor to sow gospel seeds that will bring a fresh harvest. We plant and water; God gives the growth.
And this is just scratching the surface! Once we’ve been captivated by the thought of God as the perfect gardener who creates and cultivates physical and spiritual life, we will see glimpses of the garden on nearly every page of Scripture. With such rich imagery, it’s no wonder this cultivation motif is fertile ground for spiritual application in our lives. Even if many of us no longer live in the predominantly agrarian cultures that would have been familiar to Scripture’s original audiences, the concepts and ideas remain readily available in our imaginations or through our experiences with nature. As we study his Word, God gives us these evergreen metaphors to help us know him, delight in him, and grow in him.
The Work of the Garden
As I think through the spiritual truths reflected in the Bible’s depiction of God’s cultivating character, I immediately think of the labor inherent to the theme. From the first page of Scripture, God reveals himself to be engaged in good, creative work. He plants his garden, fills it with life, and calls us to reflect his image as we tend his creation—to work it and keep it.[2] This extends to all areas of life, but there’s a poignant truth in the fact that garden work is one of the first imitative labors to which God calls us. Garden work is invested, long-sighted, hopeful, and hard. It can be daunting, and it’s certainly easy to become discouraged when you are elbow-deep in the soil with no instant gratification in sight. But it is good, life-giving work that honors God, and so it is a model for all work. Think of parenting, for example. We invest deeply in our children, doing the long, patient work of bringing them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord,[3] trusting that God will take our vine-keeping and use it for his glory. God’s cultivating example motivates us as we tend the garden of our own families.
Another aspect of garden imagery that can help fuel our faithfulness is the idea of a fallow field. With soil, overuse leads to exhaustion. Even if a field is available to plant, sometimes it’s better to wait. Allowing it to rest lets the soil regain essential nutrients, ultimately yielding better results in the long run. That’s true for us too. God has designed us for healthy rhythms of work and rest that will enrich our faith as well as our ability to love and serve others. Incorporating these rhythms into our families can help children understand the vital truth that we are dependent upon God, not the other way around. He doesn’t actually need our work, so we’re free to rest when he tells us to rest and wait when he tells us to wait. Even if waiting in fallow stretches into a prolonged season, as it sometimes does, we can face it knowing that a harvest is still in store. As we walk through seasons of expectation, we carry the ever-present hope of impending joy because we know God is still at work in our waiting. The seed may be lying dormant, but one day soon God will cause it to burst forth and bloom.
The Glory of the Garden
In God’s faithfulness, the seed will always bloom. It may not appear when we want it to or look exactly like we thought it would, but as God sows his Word into the world, it will not return to him empty; it will accomplish all he intends.[4] God is the perfect gardener, and he always provides his people the fruitful yield. He nourishes us “like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream” (Jeremiah 17:8), and he overwhelms us with the beauty of “the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:6). Ultimately, we will enjoy eternal communion with him in the shade of a tree whose leaves are for the healing of the nations.[5] This is the glorious truth we get to share with our children, and God gives us the image of a garden to help us do it. Roll your sleeves up, plant something in the dirt, and dare to hope that new life will rise up. Ask God to do his resurrecting work.
In keeping with the tragedy of my Japanese maple story, I should probably close by telling you that almost all of my gardening experiences have been abject failures. But here’s the beautiful thing: failure doesn’t spoil the imagery or the lesson. Our tilling of the soil in hopes of coaxing forth life is but a mere imitation of the work of the true gardener who does it so perfectly. When we toil and fail, when the Japanese maple keels over despite our best efforts, when we see just how precarious the life of a tender shoot really is, we are left in awe of the Creator who cultivates and sustains all life on earth, including our own. Our garden work gives us some further insight, even if just a glimpse, into the impossible glory of God’s cultivating work in our world and in our hearts. And when we do happen to see a burst of color in a fruitful bloom, we can be amazed by his glory all the more.
[1] John 15:1-5
[2] Genesis 2:15
[3] Ephesians 6:4
[4] Isaiah 55:11
[5] Revelation 22:2
[6] Douglas McKelvey, Every Moment Holy (Nashville, TN: Rabbit Room Press, 2017), 91
Reflection Questions
When thinking specifically about motherhood, how does the imagery of cultivation—tending, nourishing, pruning—shape how you view your daily tasks?
Choose an agricultural image or keyword (e.g., seed, root, branch, or fruit) and, using a good Bible concordance, do a quick trace of it through the pages of Scripture. Were you surprised to find the imagery popping up in unexpected places? What insights were you able to gain about God’s character or his redemptive plan?
Douglas Kaine McKelvey once wrote that the cultivation of a garden is “a prayer acted out rather than spoken.”[6] Are there any other ways in which the simple faithfulness of your life serves as a form of embodied prayer?
Application Ideas
Plant a garden! Work with your children to cultivate a patch of earth, a flower box, or even just a potted plant or two. Look for opportunities to discuss spiritual parallels along the way.
Go to a farmers’ market to taste-test new and interesting fruits with your family. Highlight unique shapes and flavors, marveling at the fact that something so delicious could sprout from a wooden branch. Praise God for his creativity.
Find an old tree stump and ask your children to stare at it until a fresh branch grows. After a few moments of bored waiting, read Isaiah 11:1 and ask them to imagine what God’s people must have felt like as they awaited their Messiah generation after generation. Rejoice that God kept his promise in the birth of Jesus Christ.
Track the cycles of the seasons through the changing flora around you, discussing the rhythms of death and rebirth as fall and winter give way to spring and summer. Point your children to Jesus, who gives us the greatest example of new life rising up from the dead.
Trees have the remarkable ability to grow up, around, and through obstacles. Take a nature walk with your family, pointing out any interesting tree shapes along the way (e.g., a trunk wrapped around a fence post). Talk with your children about how faith rooted in Jesus helps us persevere when facing obstacles and trials.
