Taking a Biblical Worldview to My Back Yard

Our theology affects everything, not just the parts of life we call “religious.” We live every second before God, so we should think theologically about every detail, from the majestic to the mundane.

A Familiar Structure

I have an intense, irrational hatred for yard work. I don’t understand or like this about myself, but I’d trade yard work for washing dishes, cleaning the bathroom, or doing laundry any day of the week.

And yet, instead of grumbling about this task, I should think about it biblically. Here’s my attempt to frame this work in the familiar categories of creation, fall, redemption, and consummation.

Creation

A healthy lawn and blooming flowers are beautiful. When God sends the rain and the sun and the yard explodes with color, it can be breathtaking.

We have a great lesson in the plant world: God brings life from the dirt. As Adam was created from the dust (Gen 2:7), so the trees, grass, and other plants grow by God’s good pleasure.

And, in his wisdom, God has called me to tend this space. I’m to work and keep what he’s entrusted to me (Gen 2:15), exercising dominion care in this small area. God asks me to labor and work so the land around me proclaims his glory.

Fall

In my flesh, I hate my yard. I am in the midst of a war, and I am losing.

I don’t enjoy cutting my grass, but that’s easy. It’s the weeding, pruning, planting, and tending I dislike. This is often difficult, unpleasant work.

This shouldn’t surprise me. The ground itself is cursed (Gen 3:17–19), and the weeds and thorns appear because of sin. The consequences of our rebellion spring from the ground, causing me pain (Gen 3:17). I sweat and ache as I beat back the thistles.

Redemption

Yes, the ground is cursed. But there’s more to the story. The weeds and thorns have only so much power.

Jesus walked on this ground, and that changed everything. The wind whipped dust against his face and he got mud between his toes. Though he had power over all the land, he died and was buried in the earth. But the ground could not hold him.

The entire creation is damaged and cursed. Jesus came to shatter the curse, to bring restoration and reconciliation and renewal far as the curse is found.

This begins with the people of God, the pinnacle of creation. But Jesus’ resurrection affects everything. The defeated enemy retreats, and the spoils of Christ’s victory will roll downhill and flood all of creation with new life.

Consummation

Under the curse, creation groans (Rom 8:22). It groans not just for redemption but for newness.

I groan. In Christ, I have new life. I have hope and the promise of God himself. But in the body I groan.

I age and ache and slump, but my body only tells part of the story. I grieve at my remaining sin. I see injustice and pain and grief and oppression and hate, not only in myself but in my community and throughout the world. I too long for newness.

And so we have a circle of sorts. I’m driven into my yard by newness—new growth to trim and new weeds to pull. But, if I’m thinking well, I spend more time dwelling on Jesus’ death and resurrection. He’s remaking me from the inside out, and he will fulfill the groan-filled longing of the creation as well.

Post credit | Photo credit

Links for the Weekend (8/13/2021)

Each Friday, I’ll post links to 3–5 resources from around the web you may want to check out. Note: Just two links today!

I Need You to Read Your Bible

I really appreciated this meditation from Glenna Marshall. We so often think our spiritual practices affect only us, but here is a helpful story of how God used one woman’s devotional life to bless another.

I need my own spiritual disciplines of study, reading, and prayer for my personal growth, knowledge, and affection for Christ. I want the believers in my life to do the same for their own edification and growth. But I also need the believers in my life to pursue their spiritual disciplines because I am desperate for them to do so. I want the spiritual food God has been feeding you. I don’t need worldly or even pseudo-Christian encouragement when I’m discouraged or doubting or worried. I need what is true and biblical and dependable.

Taste God’s Goodness in the Sweetness of Honey

Andrew Wilson writes about God’s good gift of honey, and in this writing he models how we can delight in God as we delight in his gifts.

We are called not just to learn about God but to experience him. We are invited to taste his sweetness and allow his golden richness—beautifully expressed in his rescue, his Word, and his grace—to brighten our eyes and refresh our souls. “Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good!” (Ps. 34:8).

On the WPCA Blog This Week

This week on the blog we published an article written by Erica Goehring called Broken, Yet Assured of God’s Plan. If you haven’t already seen it, check it out!


Note: Washington Presbyterian Church and the editors of this blog do not necessarily endorse all content produced by the individuals or groups referenced here. 

Consider the Sycamore

“How high can the sycamore grow? If you cut it down, then you’ll never know.”

This line from—of all places—Disney’s Pocahontas, has influenced my views on how God’s people should think about and interact with creation, a concept sometimes called creation stewardship.

Can a line from a song glorifying pagan pantheism from a movie about fictionalized history teach us anything true about God or his creation? By itself, no. But placed next to God’s own word about his creation, this lyric distills several aspects of creation stewardship that resonate with me.

Reverence

We don’t believe that “every rock and tree and creature has a life, has a spirit, has a name.” But we do believe each one was crafted by God himself, and that alone should inspire in us a reverence for God’s creation.

Scripture shows us God’s passion for his creation. In Genesis 1, God shapes each aspect of creation individually—the stars, the seas, the birds. He could have spoken it all into existence at once, but he chose to tell the story this way, giving special attention to each piece. Later, God prescribed Sabbath years “of solemn rest for the land” (Leviticus 25:5). When they weren’t kept, God exiled Israel to Babylon “until the land had enjoyed its Sabbaths. All the days that it lay desolate it kept Sabbath, to fulfill seventy years” (2 Chronicles 36:21).

Creation doesn’t exist solely for mankind’s use. God made the universe and everything in it to bring glory to himself: “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork” (Psalm 19:1).

The value of a sycamore is not found in how many feet of lumber it generates but in how it glorifies its Creator. We show reverence for our Creator when we approach his creation with a sense of awe.

Wonder

The average sycamore tree grows to about 100 feet tall. But that doesn’t really answer the question in the song, does it? The spirit of the question is more about delight and wonder in the world around us.

At Creation, God gave man and woman authority over nature: “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth” (Genesis 1:28).

God’s pattern of authority is one of love and service. Consider the teaching on marriage in Ephesians 5, when husbands are given authority over their wives “as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” (Ephesians 5:25).

Our charge is to tend to nature, seeking its good. We need to cultivate a sense of wonder at what God has made and a desire to see it flourish.

A Sense of Loss

My grandparents have all passed away, and they took with them bits of now untraceable family history. When did my great-grandparents come over from Czechoslovakia? Which relative built the old grandmother clock? There is a sense of loss in thinking of these things that I’ll “never know.”

There’s a similar sense of loss when a piece of creation disappears: a species goes extinct, a forest is cut down for land development, or a mountaintop is removed for mining. There’s a loss of natural beauty, a loss of habitat, a loss of potential for what could have been.

God has given us the right to use creation’s resources. God gave the plants to Adam and Eve for food (Genesis 1:29) and sanctioned the felling of the cedars of Lebanon for his temple (I Kings 5:5-6). The progression of redemptive history is from Eden to the New Jerusalem, the garden to the city, from untamed to cultivated.  

Sometimes we need to cut down the sycamore. It’s good for paneling, flooring, cabinets, and high-end furniture. (Not great for firewood and also a royal pain to split, according to Google.) We can be grateful to God for the resources we extract from nature while also acknowledging their cost.   

Practical steps

Environmentalism has gotten a bad name among conservative Christians because of its associations with progressive politics and New Age ideas. Creation stewardship doesn’t dictate a particular set of opinions on environmental issues, but it does demand a respect for creation.

Caring for nature doesn’t have to mean hugging trees. We can begin by taking ownership of our consumption. Can we honor God’s gift to us by reusing, recycling, or composting it? Can we avoid generating waste by combining trips in the car, turning out the lights, or choosing products with less disposable packaging? Can we find ways to simply use less?

Creation stewardship is not about saving the planet. God is sovereign over his creation, and humanity will not wipe itself out before his appointed Judgment Day. Creation stewardship is about seeking the welfare of creation out of love for its Creator. It’s about finding joy in how high the sycamore grows, simply because its branches reach up in praise to the Lord.

Photo credit