A Light That Calls From Eden
For one, we have these high-maintenance items called clothes now–a needy invention which must be tried on and purchased and washed and dried and folded and ironed and put away. Not to mention the frenzy of keeping said clothing somewhere in the ballpark of “in style” to keep our friends from submitting secret footage of us to “What Not to Wear”. So clothes=a big hassle we’ve developed since Eden.
The world is also, if you haven’t noticed, no longer an all you can eat fruit bar. Its all about the big-box grocery chains these days.
In addition, God, as it turns out, is not on hand for whimsical strolls through the garden (in the physical walking-right-next-to-ya sense anyways).
A few elements of Eden have survived of course. We’ve managed to hold onto the birds of the air and the fish of the sea and the firmament still seems to be holding up (as the sky and water have yet to crash into each other). And there’s still green stuff growing up around us—its just now its potted next to the street lamps. Another clever advancement since the garden.
One timeless piece of Eden that remains, though, is the presence of light. The sun, moon and stars—yes—but more than that, the light of God’s presence calling people to seek his intentions.
Genesis was just a spring board for light. It appeared across history in Moses’ face when he came off the mountain, in the pillar of fire leading the Israelites, in the lampstand in the Tabernacle, in the blinding flash from Heaven on Saul’s journey and a bunch of other places—all of it, calling us to seek God’s intentions (his ten commands, his life direction, his forgiveness, his conversion) once again.
Light continues to grab a hold of us, even this many years after Eden. The holiday seasons, laced with candelight services and ornamented buildings, are perfect reminders of light come to earth.
As Matthew puts it,
the people living in darkness
have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of the shadow of death
a light has dawned
Oddly enough, directly after this passage about light come to earth, Jesus begins calling his disciples, another suggestion that light always calls us toward God’s intentions. To follow. To change. To grow.
(For more along these lines, my upcoming memoir, Picking Dandelions: Searching for Eden Among Life’s Weeds, presents stories about living in today’s world–long after those original garden ideals unraveled. It will be released Feb. 1, 2010. Preorder it now.)