One of the great memories I have of my childhood is time spent with my father working in the garden. I am still at it, growing almost enough fruit and vegetables to meet my needs. Sometimes my grandsons lend a hand with the heavy work and in doing so new memories are created. These shared moments often reveal the differing interests and skills of young and old: my everyday closeness to nature and limited computer skills compared to their almost permanent residency in the world of the internet and having the coolest hairstyle. In his speech to the Dáil a few weeks ago President Biden spoke of “the deep connection that has always existed between our people and the land” but clearly that connection has lessened as population centres shifted from country to town and city. As a result our knowledge and appreciation of the natural world is diminished and with it our ability to care for the environment.
A constant theme throughout the Bible is our dependence on the God-given natural world. Even those who question the idea that it is God-given would still have to accept that we are dependent on nature for our survival and no economic system that ignores that fact is sustainable. Recent shortages of fruit and vegetables caused by adverse weather conditions in Spain show how quickly things can change.
In his teaching Jesus often used illustrations from nature as we are reminded in tomorrow’s gospel reading where he is characterised as a faithful shepherd caring for his flock. It’s a scene that would be familiar not only to people then but in rural Ireland to this day and needs no explanation. Some commentators argue that we should “get with it” and abandon such antiquated agrarian language. The 23rd psalm (the Lord is my Shepherd) which we read tomorrow has attracted the attention of such modernisers in various parts of the world. From Japan we have “The Lord is my Pacesetter; I shall not rush”; from Australia “The Lord is my drover. I travel well” but perhaps the most intriguing is an anonymous contribution aimed at being politically correct: “The Lord and I are in a shepherd/sheep situation, and I am in a position of negative need. He prostrates me in a green belt grazing area; he conducts me directionally parallel to non-torrential aqueous liquid.” Surely tongue in cheek.
Evidence suggests that the familiar version of psalm 23 works best for most people. The author speaks of the intimate presence of God, accompanying him through life, in good times and bad. The shepherd (God) is a carer who “makes me lie down in green pastures and leads me beside still waters.” He is there when life gets hard and challenging: “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for you are with me.” And it doesn’t end there – “Surely goodness and loving mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”
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A final thought about nature and the garden from the Brazilian philosopher Rubem Alves. In his book The Poet, The Warrior and The Prophet he writes: “For those whom I have not told my dreams, my plants are only plants; vegetal entities which offer a bit of pleasure to the body. For me, however, they are magical: they have the power to conjure up the past. The lilac was given by my father. Every time I smell its odour I see my father’s face and hear his voice. The myrtle takes me back to the public garden of my hometown. The emperor’s jasmine grew in the backyard of my grandfather’s huge colonial house, filled with mysteries, where I played as a boy. I walk by my plants. There are invisible presences in their midst.”
The poet Dorothy Frances Gurney sensed one invisible presence in particular: “One is nearer God’s heart in a garden than anywhere else on earth.”