When God made Eden, it was described as a
place of trees. It was among those trees that
Adam and Eve fulfilled their tasks of
dressing and keeping the garden. Here they
trained vines and gazed appreciatively upon
abundant blooms, and the fruits of the garden
were their food.
"This is the history of the heavens and the
earth when they were created . . . before any
plant of the field was in the earth and
before any herb of the field had grown. For
the Lord God had not caused it to rain on the
earth, and there was no man to till the
ground; . . . The Lord God planted a garden
eastward in Eden, and there He put the man
whom He had formed. And out of the ground the
Lord God made every tree grow that is
pleasant to the sight and good for food . .
." (Genesis 2:4-9).
To this garden God came to be with man in the
cool of the day, and here, under trees, Adam
and Eve worshiped their Maker. Picture man,
surrounded by animal pets, sitting with the
King of the Universe as He shares the plans
He has for them. They offered praise and
gratitude, and nothing but goodwill filled
their hearts and overflowed in song and
sincere adoration.
"The groves were God's first temples . . .,"
wrote famed poet William Cullen Bryant in "A
Forest Hymn" during the early 1800's; "In the
darkling wood amidst the cool and silence, he
knelt down and offered to the Mightiest
solemn thanks and supplication."

Mankind, animals, and plants formed an
interdependent and harmonious system. The
Creator designed it this way to teach
important spiritual lessons of selflessness.
Nature nurtured a deep sense of peace and
security among its earliest inhabitants. It
still can, but often we deprive ourselves of
opportunities to worship our Maker surrounded
by His works. Worship, after all, is more
than what we do, it is a state of being or an
attitude rooted in faith. Nature provides the
setting in which this attitude of adoration
and faith in the God of Creation can
flourish.
I well remember worshiping in the open air
together with a group of students in the
magnificent canyon of the Rio Pilon in the
Sierra Madre Oriental of northeastern Mexico.
Lovely trees grew along its banks. The
experience reminded me of the Scripture:
"Blessed is the man who walks not in the
counsel of the ungodly, nor stands in the
path of sinners, nor sits in the seat of the
scornful; but his delight is in the law of
the Lord, and in His law he meditates day and
night. He shall be like a tree planted by the
rivers of water, that brings forth its fruit
in its season, whose leaf also shall not
wither; and whatever he does shall prosper"
(Psalm 1:1-3).
On another occasion we worshiped in a pine
grove on the flanks of Pico Duarte, the
highest mountain in the Dominican Republic.
The Spirit of God came very close to us
there.
Unfortunately, our urbane society frequently
turns from living temples in woodland glades
to man-made structures heralding artisans and
architects that merely copy and refashion
works of the Master Architect. These
structures typically shut us away from the
works of the Creator and its profound lessons
of joy, peace, and security. Sadly, we are
often unaware of our loss.
Aside from giving beauty and peace in the
garden, the Creator told man to be fruitful,
multiply, fill earth, and subdue it (see
Genesis 1:28). Subdue it? Did the newly
created earth really need subduing? And man
was not the only one told to fill the earth.
Other creatures were likewise instructed (see
Genesis 1:22), so how could filling the earth
mean subduing it? And why was only man told
to subdue the earth while other creatures
were told to merely be fruitful and
multiply?
Outside Eden, the earth was apparently still
relatively undeveloped and empty. Evidently,
filling and subduing meant softening earth
with vegetation and animals, just as God had
done when He made Eden. God allowed man the
privilege of cooperating in this marvelous
process. Working together creatively would be
an expression of God's image. Man was given
access to what God had made as a resource to
enlarge the garden in all kinds of
imaginative ways-to be a landscape
gardener.
While animals were also told to multiply,
enlarging the garden was man's special
responsibility, and to carry out this
privilege, he was given dominion over nature.
Dominion, however, was not a rank or even a
right; it was a responsive relationship with
nature ordained by the Creator.
As long as man kept an unblemished
relationship with his Creator, he also had
similar responses from animals. Lions, for
example, could be led by children as pictured
by Isaiah in the new Earth (see Isaiah 11:6).
This dominion was lost through sin, however.
The loss was complete when God noted, after
the flood, that He would put fear of man in
animals as told in Genesis 9:2. And now as we
attempt to get harmony back by force, nature
suffers.
Although we look for complete restoration in
the new Earth, Scripture is clear that land,
even under the curse of sin, will be more
productive when we return to a correct
relationship with God. Certainly this was the
promise to Israel and proved to be their
experience when followed faithfully. Sadly,
they also experienced loss when they failed
to trust and follow Him. Nature, when we do
trust in God, even now provides opportunities
for interaction and blessings closer to that
which God originally intended. As we learn
more about our Maker through what He has
made, we will approach His work more closely
and become involved with His Creation. As we
restore nature, so will we be restored.
We must never forget that there is still an
enemy in the land-an evil force is at work.
Only when the Creator finally eliminates
rebellion will we realize the full renewal of
Creation, but even now we can approach
Eden.
The Eden experience suggests getting closer
to our Maker through what He has made. We can
do this by worshipping in wild places, of
course, but that is only part of what it
means to experience Eden. Man was also to
experience Creation in a much more active
way; he was to dress and keep the garden.
Although much has been lost through
degenerative sin, we may still learn from
working in a garden.
The word garden implies many things. Perhaps
we can combine some of the facets of a garden
in order to achieve an even closer return to
the Eden experience. For some, a garden is a
place to grow vegetables. Others associate
gardens with beautiful flowers. Still others
visualize a park of beautiful trees and
shrubs. A garden may include all of these,
but the important part is to work with the
garden in dressing it, keeping it, and
worshiping the Creator of it.
For about seven years I have been involved
with the Joshua C. Turner Arboretum in
Lincoln, Nebraska. This arboretum is a garden
of trees and shrubs on the Christian campus
of Union College. The campus has provided a
wonderful way of reaching back to the Eden
experience. Moreover, it is one of about 50
such sites that make up the Nebraska
Statewide Arboretum. This grand display of
trees is part of a larger tradition of
planting trees in Nebraska. In fact, Arbor
Day had its beginning here.
Eleven of the Nebraska arboreta are college
or university campuses such as Nebraska
Wesleyan University and Concordia College.
Each of these samples of Eden daily
influences the environmental and spiritual
education of tomorrow's leaders. What will
they learn from this experience?
When pioneers first journeyed across the vast
central plains of America, trees were found
only along waterways and around ponds. The
prairie has its own peculiar beauty, but to
the newcomers it was too different. They felt
exposed and threatened with no place as a
natural refuge, and so they began planting
trees-partly to meet practical needs but
perhaps also partly in response to a longing
for the Eden of Creation. Here is how the
tradition of tree planting began.

Trees not only buffet the wind, provide
building materials, and offer shade, they
also cool, remove carbon dioxide and
pollution, and give off oxygen-important in
combating global warming. God's Creation,
when given the opportunity, is restorative by
design.
Trees also provide nesting sites, food, and
shelter for many birds and animals. Trees
often appeal to our sense of beauty and give
us a sense of peace and hope- "They shall not
build and another inhabit; they shall not
plant and another eat; for as the days of a
tree, so shall be the days of my people, and
my elect shall long enjoy the work of their
hands" (Isaiah 65:22). No wonder the pioneers
were motivated to plant trees.
A visitor to the area once wrote of her
experience while traveling through Lincoln,
Nebraska. Coming from Vermont, she confessed
she had never paid much attention to trees.
So often, we fail to appreciate what we have.
In Lincoln, however, this particular woman
saw something she had not noticed before. She
looked carefully at trees and saw them as she
had never seen trees while living amid
forestlands. She observed different forms,
sizes, leaf and bark textures, and varied
colors. The papery, coffee-and-cream bark of
the river birch especially caught her
attention. She eventually returned to Vermont
and planted nothing but trees in an abandoned
hay field.
The arboreta in Nebraska have a variety of
academic uses as living laboratories and
museums. Botany and ecology students use them
to study tree species; English classes meet
under the boughs when the weather is warm;
art students frequently draw or paint in the
open air amid inspiring scenes of nature; and
sometimes music students even practice under
the lofty limbs.
While nature inspires scientists, writers,
and artists, the garden setting inspires
praise. "The Spirit of the Lord God is upon
Me . . . to console those who mourn in Zion,
to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy
for mourning, the garment of praise for the
spirit of heaviness; that they might be
called trees of righteousness, the planting
of the Lord, that He may be glorified"
(Isaiah 61:1-3).
With a certain cost involved in maintaining
such a lush habitat, budget constraints may
cause some to think of an arboretum as a
luxury beyond the means of a small college.
In an essay on campus beautification and its
effect on learning and spiritual enrichment,
Professor of Education Larry Boughman quoted
Mavis Batey from her work, "The Historic
Gardens of Oxford and Cambridge" which
revealed that the universitys' gardens were
the very inspiration needed for developing
intellect. She thought Oxford's gardens an
extension of the philosophy of simplicity and
excellence so necessary for both students and
professors to flourish in their intellectual
endeavors. In fact, she regarded the gardens
as more essential than good professors which
certainly emphasizes the value of gardens and
trees in the development of mental, physical,
and spiritual well-being.
Certainly, these qualities-simplicity and
excellence-are noble goals of Christian
education and a by-product of garden-like
surroundings within campus and urban life
that can be treasured, for they harken back
to an Eden-like bliss when our Maker was
worshipped face to face and forward to a
glimpse of what may be present in the Earth
made new as revealed in 2 Peter 3:13.
In fact, when possible, we should make our
surroundings even more beautiful, for therein
are important lessons-humility, patience, and
dependence upon the Creator as He takes our
feeble labors and adds the miracle of life.
In the garden, we plant and prune and
cultivate, but only the Creator can provide
the design and elements that make it all work
to His glory. Thus, we grow in humility-to
depend upon the goodness of the One who both
creates and sustains life in the soothing and
restorative realm of nature.
When associated with the Creator, nature
teaches rest that goes far beyond physical
and even mental rest. This deeper rest is
that which comes from a powerful assurance in
a caring Creator who is exemplified in
nature. The surety of His design and
handiwork provides a lasting peace as nothing
else can. Jesus had this kind of assurance in
mind when He said in Luke 12:27, "Consider
the lilies how they grow: they neither toil
nor spin; and yet I say unto you, even
Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like
one of these."
By design the Creator placed mankind in a
garden where His work of art is never
completed. Of all arts, none takes so long to
mature or is so liable to destruction as a
garden. There is a constant need to monitor
the health of trees and plants and to repair
wind and insect damage-an arduous task that
continually reminds us of the curse under
which we live. But renewed growth each spring
also reminds of the soon coming complete
restoration of man and the Creator's
garden.
Henry Zuill, Ph.D., writes from Union
College in Lincoln, Nebraska, where he is a
professor of biology. Many of his off hours
are spent in the garden enjoying the
blessings God has created.