From Gardeners to Guests
- Michael W.
- Oct 24
- 4 min read
Reclaiming Our Place in Creation
It’s a common sentiment, isn't it? The idea that "we are separate from nature." We pave over forests, pollute oceans, and consume resources at an alarming rate, often prioritizing fleeting trends and material acquisitions over the health of the very planet that sustains us. We look in the mirror and see "human," distinct and superior, rather than "earthling," deeply intertwined. This perceived separation, sadly, often leads to a tragic abdication of responsibility for the beautiful, fragile wilderness we call home.
But what if this separation isn't our original design? What if the scriptures, far from endorsing detachment, paint a picture of profound interconnectedness and sacred stewardship? Let's delve back to the very beginning, to a narrative that fundamentally challenges our modern disconnect: the story of the Garden of Eden.
The Original Mandate: Not Lords, But Gardeners
In the book of Genesis, after God intricately crafts the heavens and the earth, the seas and all creatures, we encounter the story of humanity's inception. It's a breathtaking account, not just of our creation, but of our intended relationship with the world around us.
"The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it." (Genesis 2:15, NIV)
Consider the profound implications of this single verse. Humanity's initial divine mandate was not to dominate or exploit, but to "work" and "take care of" the garden. The Hebrew words here are telling:
"Avad" (to work it): This implies cultivation, tending, engaging with the land in a way that brings forth its fruit. It's purposeful labor, integrated with natural cycles.
"Shamar" (to take care of it): This speaks of guarding, protecting, preserving. It’s the vigilance of a caretaker, ensuring the well-being of something precious.
Adam was placed not as an overlord standing above creation, but as a gardener standing within it. His very existence was linked to the earth, formed "from the dust of the ground" (Genesis 2:7). He was an "Adamah" (human) from the "adamah" (ground). There was no separation; he was quite literally of the earth, breathing the air, eating its fruit, living in harmony with all its creatures.
Beyond the Garden: A Covenant with All Life
Even after the tragic turn of events that led to humanity's expulsion from Eden, God's concern for creation never wavered. Following the flood, which cleansed the earth, God establishes a covenant—a sacred promise—not just with Noah and his family, but with every living creature.
"I now establish my covenant with you and with your descendants after you and with every living creature that was with you—the birds, the livestock and all the wild animals, all the creatures that came out of the ark with you—every living creature on earth." (Genesis 9:9-10, NIV)
This is a powerful counter-narrative to our modern sense of isolation. God's covenant embraces all of creation. The rain, the rainbows, the very fabric of the natural world are included in God's ongoing relationship. This tells us that creation holds intrinsic value in God's eyes, not just utilitarian value for us.
Jesus and the Lilies of the Field: Learning from Creation
Millennia later, Jesus, the Son of God, continually drew profound spiritual lessons from the natural world. He didn't preach exclusively in temples; he taught on mountainsides, by the sea, and in fields, using birds, trees, seeds, and soil as his parables.
"Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?" (Matthew 6:28-30, ESV)
Here, Jesus not only points to God's meticulous care for even the humblest parts of creation but also invites us to learn from nature. The lilies teach us about trust and God's provision. The birds teach us about releasing anxiety. This is not separation; this is a call to observe, learn from, and integrate with the natural world as a pathway to deeper spiritual understanding.
Reclaiming Our True Identity: Earthlings with a Sacred Trust
The scriptural counterpoint is clear: humanity is not separate from creation but deeply embedded within it, with a divine responsibility to cherish and protect it. Our identity as earthlings (Adam from the adamah) is inextricably linked to the well-being of the earth.
When we dismiss the wilderness, we are dismissing a part of our own heritage and a profound revelation of God's glory. When we prioritize transient possessions over enduring ecosystems, we forget our original mandate.
Perhaps it's time to shed the illusion of separation. To remember our calling as gardeners, not exploiters. To listen to the wisdom of the lilies and the birds. To embrace our identity as creatures woven into the magnificent tapestry of creation, holding a sacred trust to care for this precious planet. This is not just an environmental choice; it is a spiritual imperative.




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