God calls us to steward this earth with generosity, for the sake of all that already is and yet to come. Photo: Unsplash
Even though other parents promised me that it would happen, I did not truly understand how, until it did. When my second child was born, I felt more room grow in my heart. That space in my body is not a finite container. Every parent certainly feels exhausted as our time and energy are, in fact, limited. However, the resource of love is not bestowed to us as a predetermined quantity that can ever be entirely expended and depleted.
In Genesis 1:26-31, God’s message reminds us that the gift of creation offers abundance in bountiful cycles: “I have given you every plant yielding seed that is upon the face of all the earth and every tree with seed in its fruit; you shall have them for food (V. 29).” While the call in Genesis requires us to respectfully tend to and conserve this garden, there is relief and joy in hearing that this relationship is meant to be satisfying, regenerating, and limitless. Even before this first book of the Bible was crafted, this nourishment was on full display every spring as buds emerged, as every womb fostered new life, and as waters of the ground evaporated to reach the heavens and fell again as rain. This promise of ever-growing room for love in God’s kingdom is ever-present in creation.
In this first book of the Bible, we get to imagine God as boastful parent, beaming with the pride of the masterwork that is this world. “God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good.” This is not the type of good as in “sweet” or “comforting”. Babies are often anything but comforting, but thankfully an inherent adoration for these entirely dependent bundles of emotion allows us to call infants “good”. God sees that we are “good” and charges us with seeing that potential in all fellow creatures. While we struggle as individuals and institutions to manage the call to care for God’s good creation, we cannot lose sight that it is all worthy. All good, and all worthwhile to keep. If, by “to keep” we intend to cherish, as we do our children, then our vocational call to discern the best for the future will be ushered by generosity and grace, rather than greed and fear of scarcity.
Nurture rather than control
As this first chapter of Genesis calls upon us to reflect the work of God and bestows us with “dominion” over creation, let us avoid letting that power get the best of us and instead take it on as an honorable and reverent duty. May we act as a parent rather than manipulator among the variety of fellow kin sharing this expansive home. When we consider our most beloved parents or mentors, it is those who have nurtured and liberated us, rather than those who have attempted to control our lives, whom we are drawn to and with whom we build the most genuine relationships. What kind of traits do you see in God as the Father that you want to emulate both with and for your neighbors and the land that nourishes us?
Throughout our collective struggle to navigate how we best cherish this earthly home, we will be well-served with the reminder that we are all made in God’s image. If God’s space for love holds all of us, we can try to share that grace with one another. There are many natural resources that we are at risk of depleting and should use sparingly for the sake of this finite planet’s future. The miracles that surround us as reminders of God’s grace and abundant love do not comfort us into complacency but instead fuel our call to care for the earth and all kin. Allow yourself to be called closer to the natural world around you to witness those first unwritten pages of our faith story.
Notice the sun’s faithful rising.
Feel the wind carrying the atoms of our ancestor’s breath.
And imagine those seeds which are in every fruit and consider what potential we have to sow a glorious future together.
