And the LORD God took the man, and put him into the garden of Eden to dress it and to keep it. - Genesis 2:15
The last time I read through the book of Genesis, something about this verse struck me as interesting.
Before the Fall, before the curse of the ground, when both man and nature were in a state of perfection, God put the man into the garden of Eden to dress it and to keep it. The logical conclusion is that the garden needed—was designed to need, or require—to be kept. That even in a state of sinless perfection, mankind was not meant to live in an untouched wilderness; but that the earth itself was designed to be tilled and cultivated to bring forth its best fruits.1
(“There was not a man to till the ground” in verse 5 is interesting as well. I think the overall emphasis of this verse is on the fact that God brought all the plants and herbs into being without assistance, without anyone else to till the ground and make them grow; but it still throws a sidelight on the concept that ground being tilled, and man tilling the ground, is a natural state of affairs.)
This seems to me to be a strong biblical point against the environmental philosophy that says the only way to conserve nature is to put a fence around as much of it as possible and leave it untouched and “unspoiled,” and which regards man as an intruder whose interests run counter to those of all other creatures (or more insidiously, puts man’s interests on an equal level with animals, plants, and other organisms).
The way this particular philosophy of environmentalism has been pushed so strenuously in the secular mainstream has, I think, had the effect of making some Christians react against it by going to opposite extremes. Because they see the fallacy in an environmentalism that militates against man’s making use of the earth’s resources, and which views man as an adversary to the rest of the natural world (rather than God’s highest creation, placed in the world as its crowning feature), they may push back by insisting that anything man does to “take dominion” in the world must be all right—that there’s nothing at all wrong with things like harmful chemical fertilizers, pesticides, bioengineering, or industrial methods of agriculture that destroy the soil.
Let me be a little clearer on this topic: I personally believe that mankind does not possess the power to totally destroy the earth, or to cause the natural order of God’s creation to entirely collapse. But I do believe man has the power to damage soil, water, and so forth on a local scale in ways that will make life unhealthier and more difficult for present and immediately succeeding generations—and that there are better ways of doing things than we have been doing for about a century past.
For clarity about that better path, I think we need to be aware of a fallacy that we may have been believing.
“He watereth the hills from his chambers: the earth is satisfied with the fruit of thy works. He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man: that he may bring forth food out of the earth; And wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face to shine, and bread which strengtheneth man's heart." ~ Psalm 104:13-15
Founding Gardeners by Andrea Wulf examines the love of gardening and farming shared by several prominent American founders (Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Madison, and Franklin), and how their convictions about the vital role of agriculture in civilization helped shape the new American nation. It’s a deeply interesting book, one of the best books on American history I’ve read in recent years and one I highly recommended. But one seemingly offhand observation by the author rankled with me the first time I read it.
In a passage describing James Madison’s notable 1818 address to the Agricultural Society of Albemarle in Charlottesville, Virginia, Wulf writes:
In a world where many still believed that God had created plants and animals entirely for human benefit, [emphasis mine] Madison told the members of the Agricultural Society of Albemarle that nature was not “subservient” to the use of man. Not everything could be appropriated, Madison said, for the “increase of the human part of creation”—if it was, nature’s balance would collapse.
Plants gained their nutrition from their environment—from the atmosphere, soil, and water—but they could also return it. This reciprocity, Madison pointed out, “is sufficiently seen in our forests; where the annual exuviae of the trees and plants, replace the fertility of which they deprive the earth.” Instead of exploiting nature ruthlessly as most farmers did, Madison’s conclusion was that man had to return what he took from the soil. The more those parts of the crops (digested by cattle as manure or as stalks, straw and chaff) were ploughed back into the soil, the more fully the exhausted fields would be restored—“Vegetable matter which springs from the earth,” he said, must “retur[n] to the earth".”
…The “economy of nature,” Madison told the members of the Agricultural Society, was an “admirable arrangement” and a “beautiful feature.”
- Andrea Wulf, Founding Gardeners
Much of what Madison had to say there will sound very familiar to those who practice or study what is now called “regenerative agriculture” today. Although the philosophy of agriculture he had developed bore the influence of Malthusian theories that natural systems could be destroyed by the overgrowth of certain species—notably, mankind—much of his practical advice about the care and cultivation of land was eminently logical and based off an appreciation for the way the myriad elements of the magnificently complex created order intertwine. It’s worth noting that Madison himself still used the term “creation” to describe the natural world, even as his scientific studies were being influenced by philosophies that elevated the power and influence of man and diminished the sovereignty and wisdom of God.
But it’s Wulf’s own comment that seems to me to sum up where so many go wrong in thinking about the relationship of man to his environment. “In a world where many still believed that God had created plants and animals entirely for human benefit…” As if belief in a clearly stated biblical principle stands in opposition to exercising intelligent care for one’s land.
This is the artificial contradiction that has caused many to view Christianity and a true spirit of conservation as incompatible, when they are really no such thing. There is no inherent contradiction between the biblical teaching that God has given the earth and its bounty to mankind for his sustenance and enjoyment, and the belief that these gifts should be stewarded well and properly taken care of. There seems, however, to be a distinct danger of well-meaning Christians who believe in good stewardship being beguiled or guilted into supporting an unbiblical philosophy of how exactly we should live on the earth and make use of it.
And what exactly might a biblical philosophy of agriculture and conservationism look like?
“And I was afraid, and went and hid thy talent in the earth: lo, there thou hast that is thine.” ~ Matthew 25:25
It’s funny how you can have some of your biggest epiphanies on a given subject while studying or thinking about something entirely different. I had one about agriculture and our relationship to nature while reading about managing money.
Realize that God owns it all. It’s easy to forget that God created the world we live in and us, as well. He created the air we breathe, the sun that warms the earth, and plants and animals for food…As we understand that “the earth is the LORD’s and everything in it,” (Psalms 24:1), we can see that we’re merely temporary possessors of things He owns.
…As stewards we have a responsibility to use what we’ve received wisely. Just as in the parable of the talents, it is up to us how we use what we have. We can choose to bury it like the “lazy” steward, or we can make more from what we have like the “good” steward.
- Bob Lotich, Managing Money God’s Way
When I was studying this chapter on stewardship in Lotich’s devotional, I referred to a dictionary definition of the word to help me dig deeper. The dictionary used a phrase which has become cliché to many of us simply because we hear it so much, “stewardship of natural resources,” as a sentence example—and something clicked in my head. Stewardship.
If you look at the parable of the talents as not only referring to spiritual gifts, or to personal gifts and talents, but also to the earthly gifts that God has given to us collectively and individually in creation…this is also a biblical case against the “don’t touch” philosophy of environmentalism. We are supposed to use and to cultivate and to grow the things entrusted to us. Of course, we are supposed to use them properly—and here is where the true definition of stewardship comes in: regarding everything we have been given as truly belonging to God. “Thy talent.”
Imagine for a moment what a rich philosophy of true conservationism could come of this mindset. Imagine a farmer working with the mindset that his field belongs to God, and that he has been entrusted with making the best possible use of it. Would that not make him want to make that field as fruitful as possible, yet also careful not to take it for granted or destroy it?
For thou shalt be in league with the stones of the field: and the beasts of the field shall be at peace with thee. ~ Job 5:23
Yes, Christians can and should be participants in the conversation about agriculture and conservation—but only so long as we have a true understanding of God’s intentions for us to live in and with and by the natural world. We don’t need to believe that harmful or careless agricultural practices will cause the end of the world to argue against them! Our study of nature and science should always be geared toward understanding His design for each created thing, and how we are meant to participate in “tending and dressing the garden” to bring it to its full potential.
And as we worked I thought that maybe no man should quarrel too much with the world around him. Good things grow in odd places, and what’s poor land for one crop is good for another. It depends on what a man wants and needs. Crop land needs good fences, and fences need posts, and posts grow where crops for market won’t grow. Maybe it all evens out. It seemed to, in a minor way, up there getting out posts today.
- Hal Borland, This Hill, This Valley
I’ve thought a lot about Borland’s cedar fence posts since I first read that passage. There is a simple but deep message there. True farming—tilling the ground—doesn’t mean bulldozing all land into a uniformity suitable to growing mass crops of corn and soybeans. It means understanding for what purpose each kind of landscape, and tree, and plant, and animal was created, and thereby learning how to cultivate each one so that they flourish for our benefit—and incidentally their own.
We cannot restore ourselves or the earth to the sinless perfection of Eden. Only God through Jesus Christ can redeem the souls of men, and only God will ultimately redeem the entire creation itself at the end of the age, whenever that may be. But we most certainly can reorient ourselves toward a life of cherishing, maintaining, and using the good gifts God has given us in nature in a way that is as near as possible to the way in which He originally intended.
Addendum
Since writing this post, I have encountered two different poems that express, poetically, some ideas very like the ones I considered, so I wanted to share them as further food for thought:
“Providence” by George Herbert
“The Glory of the Garden” by Rudyard Kipling
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Jan. 2025 addition: Matthew Henry’s commentary on this passage. “The husbandman’s calling is an ancient and honorable calling; it was needful even in paradise. The garden of Eden, though it needed not to be weeded (for thorns and thistles were not yet a nuisance), yet must be dressed and kept. Nature, even in its primitive state, left room for the improvements of art and industry.”
I have had an article about this very thing in my head, which I've been calling Christians Should be the True Conservationists. But now I don't have to write it, because you said everything so well here! :)
This is such an important thing for us to understand. You have put it lovingly and firmly. I loved how you describe stewardship as relating to all things God entrusts to we mortals.
I wish we could sit down over coffee or tea and chat further about this! I agree 100%, and had similar thoughts while teaching a class on attitudes toward the natural world in the Middle Ages. The modern assumption that the Bible says man should exploit the earth is an annoying one. (Wulf takes a similar stance on the evil, benighted effects of Christianity in her biography of Alexander von Humboldt.)