This week I read an intriguing article about a man called the “lion whisperer”. A photo portrayed the man peacefully walking in the African bush accompanied by two lions at his side. If you’re like me, you’d say, “Awww. I wish I could do that!”
So why is it that we’re drawn to the peaceful co-existence of mankind with animals? And even more drawn to the idea of close relationships between humans and creatures? I can explain it in one word. Eden.
Each of us has an ache for Eden. We long to return to our ancestral homeland. Somewhere deep within us are echoes of Eden.
We were made for happy harmony with the animals, enjoying their companionship and affection with mutual communication.
Last Fall we traveled to the Oregon coast where there is a breath-taking state park that offers views of the ocean from the sandy beach as well as from high cliffs. Tucked away a short walk from the beach is a public garden whose splendor was evident even in mid-October. Unique trees from all over the world, roses in every hue, a pond, varied unusual plants vied for our attention as we ambled along pathways meticulously trimmed. Emerging from sensory overload, my practical side thought, “How many people does it take to maintain the garden in such excellent condition? It must demand countless hours of hard work. Guess I’ll stick with my 2 acres to take care of.” We all know that gardening is work, sometimes boring, backbreaking work followed by disappointing results. Have you ever walked in a huge estate garden perfectly manicured and flourishing? Did you think to yourself, “I wish I could live here and enjoy this every day…as long as someone else did the work”?
We were made for a perfect, beautiful environment where our work was joyful, never frustrating, and our efforts always productive.
All of us like a love story with a happy ending. We root for the lovers and wish them happiness. We vicariously enjoy their loving relationship. From childhood, we delight in “and they lived happily ever after.” We yearn for a loving, compatible relationship with another human. We envy Adam for getting a perfect match and we envy Eve for getting a willing partner.
We’re wired for close, nurturing relationships that satisfy our need for love.
As we mature, we become aware of a lurking emptiness that all our accomplishments, possessions, relationships, and control cannot keep out. In the quiet and the dark we desperately hope there is something more. We don’t want to think that there is nothing but a random, faceless, heartless force that pushes us through our short lives and then there is nothing. We desire a higher Being who cares, who loves no matter what, who has good planned for us so that even the hard things have a purpose. The part that we fight against is that if there is such a Being, He must also be powerful, just, and in control. But we want to have own way and when we’re in a tight spot, be granted a wish for help.
We’re all keenly aware that our world is no longer Eden. Something has gone wrong. Some animals misuse their power and attack humans. Some humans misuse their power and abuse animals. Our gardens demand toil and sometimes don’t repay us. Weeds take over and crops fail. We are selfish and that produces strained relationships. We want to live life on our own terms without obeying the rules of a higher Being. We’d prefer a genie in a bottle who mindlessly grants our wishes. So we don’t enjoy loving relationships with all the animals, our own spouse, or God. We know we live in a broken world. And when we’re honest, we admit that we ourselves are broken.
That’s the bad news. What’s the good news?
At this season of Lent leading up to Easter, let’s remember:
We’re sinners, but we have a Savior.
We’re broken, but Christ was broken to make us whole.
We’re selfish, but Jesus gave himself for us.
We’re willful, but Jesus is willing to give us new hearts.
We live in a broken world, but a new, perfect one is coming. HOORAY!