Where Do You Find God?

I was randomly mulling over poetry recently and the words to the short poem My Garden by Thomas Edward Brown came to mind:

A garden is a lovesome thing, God wot!
Rose plot,
Fringed pool,
Ferned grot –
The veriest school
Of peace; and yet the fool
Contends that God is not –
Not God! in gardens! when the eve is cool?
Nay, but I have a sign;
‘Tis very sure God walks in mine.

I like the short analysis of the poem at the Allpoetry website:

“The poem also has a strong religious undercurrent. The speaker’s belief in God is evident in the final stanza, in which he states that he has a “sign” of God’s presence in his garden. This suggests that the garden is not merely a place of beauty, but also a place of spiritual connection.”

My Garden

My own gardening has ebbed and flowed in size and intensity over the years, depending on how much time and energy I had to spare.  I’ve had a few large ones, and I’ve had a number of small, compact ones. Currently I have a small triangular plot focusing on bulbs, especially Dutch Iris.

At different times I’ve focused on flowers, vegetables, herbs, or eclectic mixes of all these. I have gone big on composting and surrendered to the convenience of chemical fertilizers. I’ve also tried everything to reconcile myself to the necessity for regular weeding. In the end, however, I found that just pushing through it is more productive than cheering myself on.

The one thing all my gardening efforts have had in common is what Brown referred to as “The veriest school / Of peace.”  For me, and for many others, there is nothing more soothing than working in the soil.

The smell of cultivated earth invigorates me.  Seeing the tiny green seedlings poking their heads above ground and growing into sturdy plants always amazes me. And the scent of flowers in bloom and the crisp fresh flavor of produce taken directly from the plant to the faucet to the table is truly a delight. All of these bring their own contributions to an inimitable sense of peace and completeness.

God Knows

In Brown’s poem, the archaic phrasing “God wot” means “God knows.” Brown, the son of an Anglican priest and ordained himself, certainly knew that Scripture is filled with references to growing plants, to gardens, to harvests both fruitful and lean.  Gardens, from Eden to Gethsemane, feature prominently in the Bible.

It seems clear that God is naturally associated with gardening and all that goes with it.  I tend to think that God knows gardens and gardening.  He has tended his children through triumph and defeat, prosperity and adversity, throughout the whole of human history.

In the first sighting of the resurrected Jesus, Mary Magdalene mistakes him for a gardener, recognizing him only when he calls her by name. This is not an incidental error, for Jesus refers to gardening and harvesting and growing plants and crops throughout his ministry.

Jesus’ entire life and ministry can be viewed, in some respects, as work undertaken to restore fallen humanity to the grace and closeness to God that was enjoyed in Eden before the Fall.  And what is that if not the greatest feat of gardening ever?

Successful Gardening

Every gardener understands that successful gardening is a partnership with Nature, which operates under God’s will far more directly than we humans can ever hope to do. Plants cannot deny their need for water nor escape the consequences of over-watering. They assert their true nature at all times.

Even those plants that we have manipulated through selective breeding and careful hybridization are true to themselves.  Of course, no amount of human intervention can turn a pumpkin into a watermelon, or a petunia into a geranium. But we can breed a bewildering variety of petunia colors and patterns. We can also shape corn into everything from colored kernels of popcorn to kernels so sweet that they are more suited to making syrup than to roasting at a barbeque.

But it takes generations of breeding, choosing what to use as seed and what to cull.  Sometimes the breeder must choose from tiny variations to achieve what he or she has in mind.  And in this, at least, we see a reflection of the patience and purpose of vision God must exercise when tending to our fractious and rebellious species.

The Master Gardener

God waits patiently through seasons of rebellion and rejection for the return of devotion and obedience to his people. Through all this He blesses and chastens and encourages.  He finds servants and prophets in some generations and conservators and the doggedly faithful in others. Years of apostasy and apathy are followed by years of revival and restoration.  But the great Gardener never loses sight of His own aims.

Over and over Jesus refers to productive vines, to the fruitful return of grain. He also talks about the fate of weeds and barren vines, or the withered stalks from which the grain has been gleaned. Gardeners know of what He speaks. Every human gardener knows that the remnants of last year’s garden must be cleared away and the ground prepared for the new year’s garden to flourish.

In our own lives, too, we must be prepared for times when our old growth is trimmed away and the ground around our roots is tilled, preparing us for new seasons of growth and productivity.

The reward of working with local climate and ground conditions to produce a flourishing garden is immense and satisfying. It promotes and encourages harmony with the nature of plants and geography to produce the most beautiful and fruitful results. In doing so, if we allow ourselves to reflect on what we are doing, it can create in us a greater willingness to welcome and respond to God’s cultivation of our own lives.

We may be woeful little seedlings, but we are His, and we remain in His tender and loving care despite our occasional thorns, our blemished blossoms, and our wilted and unruly wills.