Nathan E. Lewis

Our neighborhood is situated in a grove of mature Oregon oak and swamp ash. Their beauty in all four seasons defines the neighborhood. But they are messy. These trees harbor at least thirty species of insects, attracting at least 15 species of birds. In the autumn they drop leaves; in the winter, twigs. In the spring, the ash drop helicopter seeds. In the summer, the oak drop acorns. Thousands of trees sprout throughout our garden and of course, there are the squirrels - hordes of them, nesting in the trees, playing in the yard, and devouring our garden, even our persimmons, like a horde of locusts.
This summer 2009 the oregon oaks dropped about 10 times the number of acorns than usual. This bumper crop has kept the squirrels busy and less interested in our fruit and vegetables. And so I am perplexed as to whether or not these acorns are part of the common curse or a blessing. Believe me, the constant dropping of acorns in such great number creates quite the chore, a little easier to complete than the picking up of ash seeds, but nevertheless, a real bothersome chore. But the squirrels are busy with them and I keep my children busy with them.
Yesterday, while I was picking up acorns, I thought: “Growth can be messy. As the gospel transforms us, our lives can actually become messy.” The gospel includes the gracious work of the Holy Spirit strengthening us toward holiness, which I have always assumed includes an increasing orderliness, a lifestyle less chaotic than one bereft of grace and peace. This, I believe to be a biblical presentation. Nevertheless, a person who has recently turned from himself putting his faith in Christ and beginning to follow Jesus Christ, often finds his life to be a bit messier in the transition. The person who is crying out to God to liberate from habitual sins finds herself in a struggle, if not a war. All of us who have been justified by the complete and finished work of Jesus Christ enter into the eternal favor of God, a life more pleasant than one lived under the shade of Oregon oaks. But as long as we live in God’s love in this present realm, the acorns are going to drop and a few are going to hit us on the pate. And we are going to compete with squirrels for food and we are going to rake mountains of leaves, climbing ladders to clean out gutters.
We marvel at the colors of autumn and we sketch the silhouette of bare and graceful trees, but in between, we rake and grumble and sweat.
Romanticism views the wild, its messiness moderns find frustrating, as beautiful. The disorderly nature of brambles, leaves, and pests are “natural,” and thus beautiful. To manicure nature is to butcher it. The untamed wilderness is the epitome of beauty. This world view does not include the common curse. A biblical world view includes the common curse and so we are left wondering which parts of nature are products of the curse and which are actually functioning as God created. If you are at Walden Pond and a mosquito bites you, what should you think of it? And what should we do about invasive, non-indigenous plants like the Kudzu gobbling up acre after acre in the southern United States?
If you are tracking with me, you may think, “Well, not all growth is good growth, and so if I live according to the gospel, the messiness of my life may be the struggle between sinful growth and virtuous growth, like weeds and vegetables growing alongside each other.”
A Christian world view, unlike Romanticism, encourages the appreciation of the wilderness, even an awe for it, while at the same time encouraging the culturing of a garden. A Romantic sits watching the acorns drop and never removes one from the ground. A Christian picks them up, choosing three or four to plant within the master scheme of his garden, making sure their placement encourages the growth of other selected plants. While doing so, the Christian discovers that acorns dropping are not the result of the common curse, but rather, the working by the sweat of his brow is a result of it. The Romantic never does the work, but instead hikes around the pond perspiring joyfully, claiming to be at peace with nature. The Christian meanwhile has just declared war against the brambles. At the end of the day, the pile of thorny vines left to wilt and decompose stands as a memorial to progress made against an ever invading enemy of tomatoes, gladiolas, Koi ponds, bonsai, and creative space.

This entry was posted on Saturday, September 26th, 2009 at 9:01 am and is filed under Gospel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.