The God of the Garden by Andrew Peterson (2021)

Posted on 2022-09-30 by thelittleman
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Thoughts on Creation, Culture, and the Kingdom

‘Ya like trees? Well, have I got a book for you!

Honestly, before delving into this book for our Siblings’ Book Club, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Nature, maybe. Gardening, probably. A noteworthy tree on almost every page? Not hardly!

Yet Andrew Peterson‘s nature-focused memoire is one I found more and more fascinating the further I read. Admittedly, this book will appeal best to Christian readers who are tree-lovers themselves—or who are otherwise patient with and sensitive to a grown man pouring his feelings out on the page.

I do like trees. I’ve climbed them and built forts in them. I’ve painted them and drawn them and photographed them. I’ve tried to identify them by their bark alone (and have failed miserably). I’ve even read other books based on trees like Naked Trees by John Terpstra (1990) or children’s books like The Maple Syrup Book by Janet Eagleson (2006), Jadav and the Tree Place by Vinayek Payeng (2016), or One Day in the Woods by Jean Craighead George (1988).

I’ve had a lifelong interest in trees, but not to the extent that Andrew Peterson has! Yet what might come off as annoying and pointless to some readers—that Andrew Peterson can trace, for example, his whole life from childhood to the present, through joys and sorrows and the deepest of depressions, according to which trees were planted in the area—I found to be an incredibly fascinating literary tool.

Perhaps the first hook for me was his repetition of “an old Chinese proverb”: “The best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago; the second-best time is now.” I’ve been helping my neighbor the past few weekends begin clearing out his 100-acre woods with a ca. 1980s Timberjack machine. We do it not to destroy the forest but to manage it. We’re making room for more White Oak to flourish. We’ve planted apple trees and spruce trees. And we’ve tapped a number of maples up in those hills to boot! The way that Andrew Peterson describes his home and the 47 trees he’s planted there to ensure that this place is his home and that he’s leaving his own mark on the land—well, it’s just inspiring!

After reading the book and mulling it over a bit, I’ve categorized my thoughts into two broad sections: the community of nature and the spirit of nature. These themes run throughout the book, of course, and are what tie it all together—it’s not just trees.

The Community of Nature

Peterson comments early in the book that “No matter how beautiful your spot in the world is, without community it doesn’t really work.” (61) He speaks at length of his new home, the acreage, the gardens and trees, and the little shack he built for writing his music and books. It’s a place of solitude he enjoys, but its magic requires the knowledge that he’s merely separate from his family for a period of time: away but not gone.

He writes of his own tendencies: “At odds with my great love of solitude is my great fear of isolation. Solitude is a choice. Isolation is inflicted… Isolation is finding yourself alone when you don’t want to be.” (76) This is something he’s faced on the road (his testimonies of this are open-faced and raw), and it plays out in the songs he writes.

In fact, one of my favorite portions of the book describes the events that led up to his writing the song, “The Rain Keeps Falling.” From the outset, it’s a song of depression. For six stanzas, the rain keeps falling. He describes pain and hurt, trying and failing. “Scared…despised…alone…dying…tired…ashamed…I just can’t.” It describes the real Andrew Peterson whose depression kept him locked in a janitor closet while on the road and before one particular show, weak and passed out in a pool of his own tears. He prayed in that room for God to show him the light, when suddenly the custodian turned the light off, as if God were mocking his prayer and pushing him even further into the dark!

But then came his realization. One day as he and his daughter planted seeds in the garden and he pushed the seed into the ground and covered it with earth. He did this as any good gardener would, so that the seed would die and sprout with the rain. God’s “pushing” of Andrew into the darkness wasn’t a betrayal or a mockery. It wasn’t abandonment. It was call, a familiar call, to die to oneself and live to Christ.

I jotted a note early on my book that, “Man these poets are sensitive!” He even admitted it himself eventually: “If you’ve been paying attention, it should be evident that I’m an emotional guy. Most of the time that’s good, especially if you’re a songwriter.” (105) And God bless the poets and songwriters for it! How else could joy be found in such darkness? Delight in such rain? That portion of the book alone makes this a must read for anyone with even an ounce of spiritual sensitivity, which brings me to that second theme.

The Spirit of Nature

About halfway through the book, I questioned the title, The God of the Garden, because up to that point, God had been a very minor character (if present at all). My note reads: “It’s not really much about God, is it?” But as the book progressed, I saw why. Andrew proclaimed the Savior but found himself too often distant from Him. He writes:

“Jesus is God, and he loves you.” That’s the thesis statement of every concert I’ve ever played. I believe it completely. It’s easier, though, to fling that glorious truth out to the masses than it is to let it settle deep into my own murky waters where the dragons writhe. (112)

This book is his lifelong experience of such settling, a settling that comes from his times of solitude, reflection, and enjoyment of nature.

But why nature? Why trees specifically? He reflects on this while visiting the Garden of Gethsemane on a trip to Israel:

Still kneeling, one hand still on the olive tree, I opened my Bible and whispered Psalm 22 aloud—to myself, and to my God. I needed to remember his passion, the dread that drove him here, greatly troubled in spirit; here, where Jesus—the Root, the Seed, the True Vine, the Tree of Life—went among trees to pray to his Father.

Trees are a constant character and theme in Scripture, from the Garden of Eden, to Psalm 1, to eternal Heaven itself. And if you dig just a tiny bit deeper, trees are also the material from which we preserve the Word of God. Wood was the choice trade of Jesus the Carpenter, the Door Himself. Trees rescued Noah and his family, and trees are what made up the cross of Christ.

If nothing else, he wants his readers to know this. He wants us to look at trees in a new way, and man, he succeeded with me! Although I’ll keep helping my neighbor cut down the 100-year old oaks, we do so to open the canopy to allow new life to thrive. Even though we’ll be chopping more wood to burn in the fireplace this winter, we do so with appreciation for the forest that makes up the land and our many hours of hard work in those woods.

Two other sections that I loved in this book, I’ll just mention in passing. First is his whole section on pages 129-130 bemoaning America’s lack of footpaths and our inability to actually enjoy the land in which we live, due to our modern concepts of property ownership and our addiction to asphalting every square inch of the country. He names Mike Parker’s book, The Wild Rover, where in Wales he walked all the footpaths in a 3-mile radius of his home, paths that make up 70 total miles! Imagine that in America! Our best hope is to walk a couple of miles on public land (where you can’t even remove a stone) before being stopped by a “NO TRESPASSING!” sign.

Second, was this comment about our Lord:

Jesus, other than when he rode a donkey’s colt, apparently walked everywhere he went. He had time to spot the wildflowers, converse with his friends, and experience a culture built to human (and not automobile) scale. He lived his life at three miles per hour. If you haven’t seen Godspeed, I implore you to watch online and try to apply its wisdom to your life right here, right now.

Conclusion

I’m definitely going to do that. I really appreciated this book and crave to read more just like it. Anything that can bring a new, spiritual perspective to the joy I find in nature is a welcomed gift. I highly recommend this!

©2022 E.T.

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