There are always those who would lounge on the shore and stare into the ruddy sunset and fervently wish for those times when the whole earth would lull itself into one smooth and cursive form. They imagine a world tightly curled in a geometric form without obtuse and jagged norms. They stare into the setting sun in search of an idyllic past that never was and scant shall ever be. And for all of that they insist that things shall come to them in an orderly array, undelayed by the press of time and circumstance, like some eager manservant sent running by the brief wave of the master's hand.
Of course, it doesn't happen that way at all. But we fondly wish it were so.
Oh, to have lived in a time when all the flowers along the garden path were uncontested by surly weeds and the stately order of the day was unmolested by unfurled needs! What a time it would have been to have remained seated on a throne as the serried ranks of nobles brought one Gordian knot after another and all of them could have been untied with a nod of the head or a flourish of the hand. And what a time it would been, when the most extended mishap that could possibly affect, would consist of having to rise slowly from the throne, wander through the bric-a-brac, and saunter off to bed to take a midday nap.
Yes, we dream such dreams.
We search for the easy route and we spend the better part of our days looking for the path without the rude stubble and rugged stones that tangle our feet as we walk along the way. The surface of the earth, if we had our way, would be filled with macadam from end to end so that we were forever free never to have to stoop to tread through the mud and debris in order to get to the spired castle of our desire. We look for a world in which we are never pressed for time and are forced to play a role we rather wouldn't, or take a chance we really shouldn't, or lift a weight we almost couldn't.
How nice it would be if we could live like unfettered friends and rollick through life unrestrained by rule and reign and live a life authentic and unfeigned, unmet with ill-ease and without regret. How nice it would be if all who met were so filled with love as to have no desire to cuff another with the crude bracelet of his restraint.
We wish it were so. But it ain't.
Though we spend most of our time trying to perfect that which is abject, the truth of the matter is that we drift along a current not of our own making. In vain we try to affect a change that will round the jagged edge and smooth the clattered form. And again and again, the pull of the tide takes us where we would not hedge and makes us accept a role that we find savage and forlorn.
In our haste we forget that Adam was placed in the garden of Eden to till the earth and to keep everything in its place (Gen 2:15). He was less an unkempt vagabond walking upon the beach than he was a vinedresser nipping each and every vagrant bud that would venture forth from the trellised and stately vines in the garden of the Lord.
It would be nice if the whole world were filled with Benevolent Anarchists and everyone traipsed through life like hounds sniffing at the earth and following their noses to find the buried bones of their own desires.
Surely that would be nice.
Yet, what we quickly forget is the fact that God had placed Adam in the Garden as a steward of that place and not the hedonist stroller that we fondly wish to make of him. We always think of Eden as a place lavish and lush, unfilled with the rush that consumes our days. But in fact, it was a place of order and constraint. It was a place where Adam had a job to do and orders to obey, so that when God came walking in the cool of the day he would find his servant at his task and he would not have to ask if Adam had been faithful to his commands. Yes it was lavish and lush. But Adam was not free to pick the berries and wander off in a rush, and while away the hours of the day until a pesky God came back to ask if he had done this or that.
No, though we hate to admit it, Eden wasn't at all like that.
Of course, it doesn't happen that way at all. But we fondly wish it were so.
Oh, to have lived in a time when all the flowers along the garden path were uncontested by surly weeds and the stately order of the day was unmolested by unfurled needs! What a time it would have been to have remained seated on a throne as the serried ranks of nobles brought one Gordian knot after another and all of them could have been untied with a nod of the head or a flourish of the hand. And what a time it would been, when the most extended mishap that could possibly affect, would consist of having to rise slowly from the throne, wander through the bric-a-brac, and saunter off to bed to take a midday nap.
Yes, we dream such dreams.
We search for the easy route and we spend the better part of our days looking for the path without the rude stubble and rugged stones that tangle our feet as we walk along the way. The surface of the earth, if we had our way, would be filled with macadam from end to end so that we were forever free never to have to stoop to tread through the mud and debris in order to get to the spired castle of our desire. We look for a world in which we are never pressed for time and are forced to play a role we rather wouldn't, or take a chance we really shouldn't, or lift a weight we almost couldn't.
How nice it would be if we could live like unfettered friends and rollick through life unrestrained by rule and reign and live a life authentic and unfeigned, unmet with ill-ease and without regret. How nice it would be if all who met were so filled with love as to have no desire to cuff another with the crude bracelet of his restraint.
We wish it were so. But it ain't.
Though we spend most of our time trying to perfect that which is abject, the truth of the matter is that we drift along a current not of our own making. In vain we try to affect a change that will round the jagged edge and smooth the clattered form. And again and again, the pull of the tide takes us where we would not hedge and makes us accept a role that we find savage and forlorn.
In our haste we forget that Adam was placed in the garden of Eden to till the earth and to keep everything in its place (Gen 2:15). He was less an unkempt vagabond walking upon the beach than he was a vinedresser nipping each and every vagrant bud that would venture forth from the trellised and stately vines in the garden of the Lord.
It would be nice if the whole world were filled with Benevolent Anarchists and everyone traipsed through life like hounds sniffing at the earth and following their noses to find the buried bones of their own desires.
Surely that would be nice.
Yet, what we quickly forget is the fact that God had placed Adam in the Garden as a steward of that place and not the hedonist stroller that we fondly wish to make of him. We always think of Eden as a place lavish and lush, unfilled with the rush that consumes our days. But in fact, it was a place of order and constraint. It was a place where Adam had a job to do and orders to obey, so that when God came walking in the cool of the day he would find his servant at his task and he would not have to ask if Adam had been faithful to his commands. Yes it was lavish and lush. But Adam was not free to pick the berries and wander off in a rush, and while away the hours of the day until a pesky God came back to ask if he had done this or that.
No, though we hate to admit it, Eden wasn't at all like that.
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