“Planting Hope”

Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

Creation Series: Gifts of the Garden

August 20, 2023

Genesis 2:9-10, 15-17

Revelation 22:1-5

John 19:38-42

Children’s Message:

Do any of you have a garden at home? What do you grow? Flowers, vegetables… Do you know what kind? Who does the work of caring for the garden? We have a garden here, too. We grow herbs and tomatoes and green beans and more. Lindsey does a lot of caring for our garden, but so do several other people here.

What do we do with those vegetables? We eat them! What’s your favorite vegetable? Now, what would happen if I planted a tomato seed in a pumpkin bed? Would I get a pumpkin? No. Because I planted a tomato seed. You can’t expect to plant one kind of seed and get a completely different plant, right?

Today, we heard stories about gardens. God gave us an amazing garden to take care of, and we aren’t doing very well. But, because of God’s promise of forgiveness through Jesus, God will bring us into a new creation and a new garden. God plants the seeds of hope in us so that we can grow those seeds and share them with others. That’s good news!

Let’s pray. Dear God, help us care for our seeds of hope and life. Help us care for the garden you’ve given us. Amen.

Message:

Mariam Ghani tells the story of her parent’s garden near Kabul, Afghanistan. They bought the land in the early 2000’s. They had to purchase it twice because of land disputes, but they were eventually able to build a wall, then a house, and then a garden. Their garden began with roses and shade trees, and then blossomed with flowers, an orchard, a kitchen garden, a greenhouse, and even a grape arbor.

But every time they turned over the soil, they found reminders of other times and other inhabitants. In the first few years, their new trees never seemed able to put down roots. They finally dug deep enough to remove the last of the stones from old walls and foundations dating back to the early 1900’s. And then they had to address the leaves that were choked from dust storms blowing in from the plains. The dust was an aftermath of vast deforestation and stripped topsoil. But what made it worse was the oily particulates from air pollution that made the dust stick to the leaves. They have to wash them off regularly to allow photosynthesis.

And then they discovered a drainage problem in a corner of the garden that, once a hole was dug deep enough, had come from a long trench ten feet long filled with hundreds of spent shells. They filled the trench and created an irrigation canal to carry water to the plants and trees in that corner of the garden.

The history and current plight of the people have their effect on this little garden every day–from previous buildings and wars to current pollution and devastation. And yet, the family continues to dig and plant and tend and work. Because this garden is a sign of hope in the midst of what may seem otherwise hopeless.

Today, we heard about three different gardens. We began with the first garden. In this garden, God placed all of the animals and vegetation that the world could dream of–and some the world couldn’t imagine. God created the human from the clay and breathed life into them. And God placed the human in the midst of the garden and gave them the purpose of caring for it. Our Bible says, “to till it and keep it.” The Hebrew words suggest a nuanced translation: “to serve it and protect it.” And God gave all things to the human–except the fruit of the one tree.

We then move to the end of the vast story of God’s people–a vision of what the end of time will be like. John’s vision is one that he struggled to put into words because words simply cannot capture the realm of a renewed heaven and earth. So John uses imagery that the Jewish people would recognize–an image of a garden, of Jerusalem, and of a different kind of temple. In this garden is another tree. But this time, the tree isn’t for condemnation but for healing. And the tree isn’t just for the twelve tribes of Israel but for the whole creation. There will be no need for fallow times for this garden–times of rest or renewal–because this holy garden is connected deeply to the waters of life coming directly from the throne of God. The garden’s whole existence IS rest and renewal.

And in between these two bookends of Scripture is the story of Jesus. Today, we heard John’s description of his burial, when Joseph and Nicodemus take his body, wrap it in spices and linen, and lay it in a tomb in a garden near the place where he was killed. It is an apt place to put his body. Gardens are made for burying seeds and watching new life come forth. And this garden is where Mary Magdalene will encounter the risen Jesus.

That which you plant is what will grow.

For over 1500 years, ever since the Church found itself in the place of power and control, our understanding of Scripture has been skewed. We have read the Bible from a place of privilege. King James commissioned the English translation of the Bible and influenced the interpretation that led to words like ‘dominion’ and ‘subdue.’ It suggests that humanity have dominion over the earth and subdue it. And humanity took that to mean that we can take what we want from the land. We can destroy it for our pleasure. We can strip it of its resources and lord it over others. We can take without giving back, reap without planting, make it bend to our will.

Our reading of Scripture has continued to harm creation in numerous ways. Latching on to the Greek understanding of existence, Christianity took to the idea that our eternal beings would be bodiless souls in heaven. That has lead, again, to our destruction of creation as a temporary element of life. Many Christians continue to believe that this world will eventually cease to exist. We will shed our bodily vessel, as all of life will shed its bodily vessel. So it doesn’t matter what we do–with our bodies, with our world, with the universe.

But it does matter. That body, the one Joseph and Nicodemus lovingly removed from the cross, was the same body that Mary wanted to grasp in her arms on the first Easter morning. It was the same body–only different. It was MORE, not less. Paul spends a whole chapter in his first letter to the Corinthians trying to explain to them the importance of a bodily resurrection. Because, he says, it gives us hope. Chapter 15, verse 58 closes the chapter saying, “Therefore, my beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.”

What we do here matters. That which you plant is what will grow.

As we look around at our world and the mess we have created, I don’t know about you but I can often feel a bit hopeless. Climatologists have told us that we are at the point of no return. There’s no way to undo the damage we’ve done. And though some nations have taken great pains to change their ways, the largest nations–America, China, India–seem insistent on denying that the crisis exists. We seem to be hell-bent (pun intended, as we look forward to some very hot days coming up) on continuing our destructive behavior because it’s too hard to change. It means sacrifice. It means giving something up. It means work. It means acknowledging the truth of our history—a history that we continue to build on without consideration of how that history has limited our ability to grow. Much like the little garden in Afghanistan.

But all is not lost. Our hope is still in Christ. We do not place our faith in humanity’s ability to change but in God’s ability to transform. And our job is not to save the world—that’s in God’s hands. Our job is to plant the seeds of hope and possibility. To share a new way to hear Scripture, a new way to engage creation, a new way to till and keep, to serve and protect this gift of the garden.

Because that which you plant is what will grow.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE