Words of The Lamb magazine

by Clara Klein

Many are the analogies made concerning the Christian faith life and gardening. In a desert home, the comparison takes on a different twist, and I find that weeding in my yard is a spiritual metaphor for life. Palm trees are popular in Las Vegas. Trying to attain that California look, they are planted haphazardly in boulevard strips, around pools, and in yards. Most people don’t care to groom their palms, and over time they develop a skirt of dead leaves and long spikes of flowers and seeds. The mast from the trees is overwhelming, leaving tiny seeds everywhere.

They blow around and are spread by birds, ending up in unlikely places like cracks in patios and driveways. At this point they become weeds – truly plants out of place. The neighbor has a cluster of them just on the other side of the dividing wall and they tower and blow over my yard, as do the annoying seeds. The palm seeds love to grow in my grass. To me, they are something that doesn’t belong there. But weeds are so much more than that. What is it that makes a weed succeed? It outcompetes the favored plants, it’s tenacious and a hanger-on, and it uses sneaky tricks to its advantage.

I am pulling the palm tree seedlings out of my turf grass. Both species are in the grass family, so to the unpracticed eye, it is difficult to tell them apart. But their ridged leaves and saw-hewn edges give them away. Though they are only an inch or so tall, they are tenacious, sticking their roots deep and fast. If you only pull from the top, the primary leaf or leaves will detach from the sheath, leaving a stronger root only to sprout again. Pulling at the base of the tiny little tree assures greater success, of pulling the entire offender out, root and all.

Along with the quarry, out comes a feeling of power and celebration, besides the fact that it is a way to take out my frustrations. Busy in my winnowing labor, I contemplate a deeper meaning. As Paul says in Colossians 3:5-11, “And then we all know that when we’re dealing with weeds, we don’t just cut off what’s above the surface of the ground. If we’re going to deal with the weeds, we need to get beneath the surface and deal with the root of it.” I have to place myself down on the grass, to better see the enemy at its own level. There’s a certain feeling I get while I am down here – like I’m on a battlefield. Warrior manuals tell us to know our enemy, and I can know my enemy best on its own turf. Actually, this is my turf. Anyway, seeing where the enemy is hiding and knowing its methods of war, you can better derail it.

I found that grasping the stalk at the base just at ground level is something like a chokehold, and that wiggling it before the upward thrust loosens its ties to the earth. I’ve also found that the palm seedlings growing in the middle of the lawn, where the soil is rich and moist, more easily give themselves up. But those growing at the lawn edge, where the soil is poor and dry, seem to hold on for dear life, not so willing to easily let go. Here the seedlings gather thick like a forest, their growth rough. It’s a metaphor for life, really. Weeds are our sins. They sink deeper roots and grow more troublesome where life is not so perfect and we are vulnerable.

Contrarily, their growth is light and superfluous in a healthy, well-watered environment. We can more easily sweep them away when things are going well, knowing we do not need them. There is a popping noise when the seedlings come out cleanly, root, seed, and all. It is a snap as the roots are ripped from their bed of soil, as if giving little gasp. Those that don’t come out successfully and leave the root behind give no sound. The leaf just slips through my fingers, and I think the tiny plant gives a little laugh. The weeds and I vie for control. And so I weed out my life with every seedling I pull. It is a great time for meditation. If you can work something out metaphorically, it may help you attack the real problem head-on. I think the troubles of this life are like weeds and need to be rooted out. I’d like to put the face of a problem on each weed – that would be therapeutic!

Life is a garden, full of stories of planting seeds and pulling weeds. We make the choice of what kind of soil we will tend. Is it barren land where the weeds of greed, selfishness, and hatred grow? Or do we choose the arable land useful for nurturing the fruits of the Holy Spirit and growing the flowers of God’s glory? The “soil” of our gardens resides in our hearts and in our minds. We fertilize and water it with God’s holy word and acts of love. Of course, the soil we are given to begin with naturally contains some seeds of weeds. From the Parable of the Sower and the Seed (Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43), we know that the weed and good seed grow together, but that the weeds will be separated out at harvest time and destroyed. It is in our choice of gardening practices that we will impact whether the favored healthy crops grow, or the unwanted pests are left to run wild. The spiritual weeds are sin and the near occasions of it – addiction, lies, abuse, etc.

When we give in to them, they wrap us up in their deceitful web. With their characteristics of aggressiveness and theft, they steal the resources needed for the good plants to grow. By robbing moisture and nutrients from the soil, as well as sunlight and space, weeds overcome the tender sprouts of spiritual gifts, such as love, kindness, patience, and faith. The
longer we let the problem go, the worse it gets. If I wait a year and see some palm seedlings that I didn’t see before, they are larger and more difficult to get out. They can’t just be plucked right out. I have to rock them back and forth to make them uncomfortable in their “grab hold.”

At the end of a particularly hostile desert summer, I find just a couple of straggler palm seedlings that have persisted. They may have held on for a while, but even now they are on their way out. The lesson here is that in the droughtiest of times, when all else is nearly dead, I find that even the weeds will easily give up the ghost. Why is this? Because there are only resources left for immediate functional needs, which is the core spirit of us, and the weeds, or sinful behaviors, can’t get a foothold where there is no excess to play around with. At these times my core spirit is focused on being with God and that is all. I don’t have the strength or energy to try some forbidden play. I’m lucky to be alive and that is due to God.

Speaking of spiritual weeds, we know how embedded bad habits become as we leave them unattended over time. Give these nefarious interlopers an inch, and they’ll take a mile. But how much more fulfilling it is to completely dislodge one of these! And as my spiritual garden becomes more and more sustainable, I become more confident in my ability to dislodge them. Think of it as rooting out evil so that your faith in God can grow. The hyperbole from Matthew 5:29-30 seems to fit here, paraphrased, if your right eye tempts you to evil, gouge it out. Better to enter the kingdom of heaven with one eye than not at all.

In conclusion and despite horticultural aptitude, we can all be spiritual gardeners. So put on your protective gardening gear, aka the armor of God, and go weeding. Pay attention to the ‘soil’ you cultivate in your soul – if it is healthy and balanced, containing the word of God, it will provide better resistance to those competitor thoughts that shouldn’t be there. “For as the earth brings forth its sprouts, and as a garden causes the things sown in it to spring up, so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all nations.” (Isaiah 61:11) We can’t wait for the time when God has sorted the chaff from the grain, and the good seed is left to grow in
freedom!