A gardener I am not. Not even a hobbyist gardener. More like a dabbler.
Several years ago, I read somewhere that pastors ought to have a garden. I can’t remember why, but surely the writer gave a bunch of good reasons—enough, at least, to convince me it was a good idea.
By the way, if I had a dollar for everything I’ve heard or read that pastors should do, my retirement account would be funded. If I actually did it all, I’d need to have 48-hour days and ten days between Sundays—at least.
Anyway, because every pastor ought to have a garden, so I was told, I planted a little garden. Got some books on turning your backyard into a veritable mini-farm. Picked some brains so we’d hopefully have something to pick come harvest time. The next year, the garden space expanded. A couple years later, it expanded again and another smaller parcel in the yard was turned into garden space.
All of which would be great, except for a few minor details. Having and tending a garden takes work and a good chunk of time! Planning needs to start while the snow’s still flying. Some stuff needs to be started indoors, which can be quite the problem if you lack window space, or a bunch of grow lights, or a greenhouse. We lack all three. Sometime in early spring, the ground has to be tilled—but it can’t be too wet. The ground must be prepared well. Indoor plantings have to be “hardened” so they’ll survive the outdoor temperature swings. Then transplanted.
Besides all that, the would-be gardener needs to know what to plant where. Don’t plant tomatoes in the same spot in the garden two years in a row. Planting two kinds of melon too close to each other may end up causing both to taste the same. I’ve made the mistake of planting a row of corn—a single row. Later I learned you need to plant corn in multiple rows for effective pollination. Sigh. Soooo much to learn!
I wonder. Did God give Adam some direct revelation on tending the garden? I’m sure his pre-fall brain was like a sponge that remembered every detail. Mine’s more like sieve when it comes to this stuff.
So, by mid-May (in northwest Illinois) you get this wonderful plot of earth tilled, organized, planted, mulched…and it looks so…idyllic. Would-be gardener stands back admiring his hard work, envisions picking fresh green beans for dinner, cutting lettuce for the salad, slicing a watermelon from the patch, a tomato for the burger, an onion for the potato salad…. But that’s weeks away.
The would-be gardener thinks, “Ah, the hard part’s done. Now we just wait, and before you know it, produce in abundance!”
Until a couple days later.
He walks back to survey his patch, sees some shoots breaking through the dark brown soil, smiles with satisfaction. “Won’t be long,” he thinks naively.
Next day, another survey trip. Wait a minute. What’s all this other stuff? Really? Weeds? Already?!? But…which are weeds, and which are the radishes?
And that’s just the beginning. For the next four months, there’s an almost daily battle against these wretched invaders! The reality of the curse hits hard—I’m talking about the curse in the garden of Eden, by the way, not that which rolls off the unsanctified tongue! You know, when God said to the very first gardener, “…cursed is the ground because of you; in pain you shall eat of it all the days of your life; thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you….” Thanks a lot, Adam!
Weeds mystify as much as they aggravate. How is it they grow so easily, so quickly? And everywhere? No sooner do the carrot shoots break the surface of the earth that some weed fights for the space. Even then, I learned, one must be very careful! Yank the weed too soon and out comes the carrot shoot. Shoot!
They fight for supremacy next to the tomatoes, the beans, the corn, potatoes white and sweet, the melons. They like flowers, too, apparently. At least they seem to love my flower beds.
This is a battle I’m not winning. I’m not a farmer, after all. I mean, I have work to do besides tending a garden. When do I wage warfare against Creeping Charlie, crabgrass, and a host of other unnamed assailants?
“Early mornings are best,” opines one seasoned gardener. The alarm already goes off at 5:45. Do I skip devotions? Breakfast?
I know. I should attack in the evening. As soon as I get home from the office at 5:30ish might work. Better yet, after dinner, when it’s cooler? Why doesn’t April’s garden enthusiasm carry over into July? Maybe I never cultivated a gardener’s lifestyle growing up, so the daily grind isn’t ingrained within me. Maybe I too easily allow the feelings of weariness dictate garden neglect. Whatever the case, I suppose I’m without excuse. The garden’s there…the weeds are choking stuff…there’s a battle to fight!
Jesus walked and worked in an agrarian culture. Nearly everyone had some kind of a garden—it was essential for survival! So, it’s no wonder in His teachings the subject of weeds came up from time to time.
One of those occasions reminds me of our carrot patch.
Jesus told the story about a farmer who planted some wheat, but during the night, an enemy went to his field and sowed some weed seed (So that’s where all our weeds came from!!). When the wheat and weeds germinated and broke through the ground—all growing very closely together—the farm laborers asked the owner of the field if they should pull up the weeds. “Not yet,” replied the farmer, “otherwise you’ll yank up the wheat, too. Let them alone for now. We’ll deal with the weeds at harvest time.”
Jesus explained the story. The “good seed” are those who follow Him—genuine Christians who have come by faith to trust Jesus as their Lord and Savior. The “weeds” are “Christian” in name only. Religionists who claim the label for some supposed advantage, part of a church even, but remain unconverted. The respective fates are radically different:
The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will gather out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all law-breakers [the weeds], and throw them into the fiery furnace. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Then the righteous [the wheat] will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. He who has ears, let him hear.
– Matthew 13:41-43
Obvious point, no? Be sure you’re wheat!
Earlier, Jesus told a story that focused primarily on different types of soil. One type in particular was riddled with weeds. “Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them,” He said.
Looking at my garden, I know exactly the imagery Jesus was talking about!
But His disciples were a bit perplexed by the parable. They could envision the picture, but wondered about the point. Jesus explained,
As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and it proves unfruitful.
– Matthew 13:22
As one whose primary task in life is to teach and preach the Bible, I have to wonder how often this happens. Surely someone listening to the lesson or sermon is a tiny plot of ground that takes in the seed—for the moment. But their heart is so riddled with anxious concerns about this-life stuff that the seed has no chance to germinate. Or they’re so consumed with trying to accumulate what money promises—pleasure, satisfaction, happiness, peace, success, friends…—that the momentary flash of insight offered in the Bible quickly dims into oblivion. Nothing changes.
Here are a couple of weeds that need to be dug up, roots and all, if the seed-truths of God’s Word are going to be the least bit beneficial. Better stay on top of it!
Well, the longer I delay dealing with the weeds, the better chance they have of choking the life out of the tomatoes, so I’d best get at it!
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