“Return to the Garden”

Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7

Sep. 22, 2019 

Sermon by Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC of Manhattan, KS

This is the book that our Tuesday Book Club will start discussing next week (hold up Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer). I was listening to it earlier this week while out for a walk on the prairie when I suddenly gasped, stopped walking, and backed the audio up so I could hear what she said again. 

Kimmerer was talking about “learning the grammar of animacy.” In her quest to learn the Potawatomi language, Kimmerer discovered that many of the objects we think of as inanimate in English are imbued with animacy in Potawatomi. She explains: “Of an inanimate being like a table, we say, “What is it?”....But of an apple, we must say, “Who is that being?” And the reply would be Mshimin yawe. Apple that being is. Yawe - the animate to be. I am, you are, s/he is. To speak of those possessed with life and spirit we must say yawe.”

Did you hear it? Yawe...sounds just like Yahweh, the name given when God is asked for a name in the Hebrew Bible. “I am.”

Kimmerer continues, “By what linguistic confluence do Yahweh of the Old Testament and yawe of the New World both fall from the mouths of the reverent? Isn’t this just what it means to be, to have the breath of life within, to be the offspring of Creation? The language reminds us, in every sentence, of our kinship with the animate world.” [1] 

Kimmerer is a botanist and a member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation. Her book weaves stories from her ancestors with questions and observations about the natural world. She begins the book by sharing the story of Skywoman, the creation story of those who are indigenous to the Great Lakes region of this continent. I want to share this story with you, in Kimmerer’s words. 

In the beginning, there was the Skyworld. 

She fell like a maple seed, pirouetting on an autumn breeze. A column of light streamed from a hole in the Skyworld, marking her path where only darkness had been before. It took her a long time to fall.

In fear, or maybe hope, she clutched a bundle tightly in her hand. 

Hurtling downward, she saw only dark water below. But in that emptiness there were many eyes gazing up at the sudden shaft of light. They saw there a small object, a mere dust mote in the beam. As it grew closer, they could see that it was a woman, arms outstretched, long black hair billowing behind as she spiraled toward them. 

The geese nodded at one another and rose together from the water in a wave of goose music. She felt the beat of their wings as they flew beneath to break her fall. Far from the only home she'd ever known, she caught her breath at the warm embrace of soft feathers as they gently carried her downward.

And so it began. 

The geese could not hold the woman above the water for much longer, so they called a council to decide what to do. Resting on their wings, she saw them all gather; loons, otters, swans, beavers, fish of all kinds. A great turtle floated in their midst and offered his back for her to rest upon. Gratefully, she stepped from the goose wings onto the dome of his shell. The others understood that she needed land for her home and discussed how they might serve her need.

The deep divers among them had heard of mud at the bottom of the water, and agreed to go find some. 

Loon dove first, but the distance was too far and after a long while he surfaced with nothing to show for his efforts. One by one, the other animals offered to help -- Otter, Beaver, Sturgeon -- but the depth, the darkness, and the pressures were too great for even the strongest of swimmers. They returned gasping for air with their heads ringing.

Some did not return at all.

Soon only little Muskrat was left, the weakest diver of all. He volunteered to go while the others looked on doubtfully. His small legs flailed as he worked his way downward and he was gone a very long time. 

They waited and waited for him to return, fearing the worst for their relative, and before long, a stream of bubbles rose with the small, limp body of the muskrat.

He had given his life to aid this helpless human. But then the others noticed that his paw was tightly clenched and, when they opened it, there was a small handful of mud. Turtle said, "here, put it on my back and I will hold it."

Skywoman bent and spread the mud with her hands across the shell of the turtle.

Moved by the extraordinary gifts of the animals, she sang in thanksgiving and then began to dance, her feet caressing the earth. The land grew and grew as she danced her thanks, from the dab of mud on Turtle's back until the whole world was made. Not by Skywoman alone, but from the alchemy of all the animals' gifts coupled with her deep gratitude. Together they formed what we know today as Turtle Island, our home. 

Like any good guest, Skywoman had not come empty-handed.

The bundle was still clutched in her hand.

When she toppled from the hole in the Skyworld she had reached out to grab onto the Tree of Life that grew there. In her grasp were branches -- fruits and seed and all kinds of plants. These she scattered onto the new ground and carefully tended each one until the world turned from brown to green. Sunlight streamed through the hole from the Skyworld, allowing the seeds to flourish. Wild grasses, flowers, trees, and medicines spread everywhere. And now that the animals, too, had plenty to eat, many came to live with her on Turtle Island too. [2]

Kimmerer places this story in conversation with one of the Jewish and Christian creation stories that we heard from Genesis this morning. “One one side of the world,” she says, “were people whose relationship with the living world was shaped by Skywoman, who created a garden for the well-being of all. On the other side was another woman with a garden and a tree. But for tasting its fruit, she was banished from the garden and the gates clanged shut behind her.” [3]

Our story from Genesis....for all of its richness and wisdom about humanity and God….the interpretation of this story has also laid the groundwork for great abuse of the Earth by humanity. 

The humans are originally blessed. They are portrayed as the culmination of God’s good works. The icing on the cake of creation. They are told to be “fruitful and multiply” to “fill the earth and subdue it.” The humans are “given” every plant and every animal….given to hold one another as dear companions? Or given to possess and use? 

“In Native ways of knowing,” Kimmerer says, “human people are often referred to as ‘the younger brothers of Creation.’ We say that humans have the least experience with how to live and thus the most to learn.“ [4] 

Looking around at the devastation that humans have wrought on the Earth, it’s not too difficult to agree with Kimmerer on this point. For all of the amazing things that we humans have accomplished...we have also caused vast destruction out of our desire to control. 

Reading about climate change these days, it can be incredibly difficult to find hope of healing or wholeness. The magnitude of the changes that must be made feels overwhelming. Is it even possible for humans to find our way back to the Garden at this point? Or are we forever banished from that union with nature that our sacred stories say is our birthright? 

I honestly am not well-versed enough in the intricacies of environmental sustainability to know whether or not we can turn this whole ship around at this point. But, what I do know is this: “as for me and my house, we will love all of Creation.” 

I do not know if this loving will fix the planet, but I do know that loving the Earth is what we were created to do. I do know that the amazing complexity of nature has so much to teach us...about how to heal human bodies, minds, spirits. And how to BE more fully human...the way God intended us to be. 

Our Christian creation stories tell us that God created us in God’s image….literally drawing us up out of the earth. The first human was called ha-adam….mud-dweller, Earth-creature. We came from the soil and were created to live in harmony and mutual love with the soil...and the plants that spring from it, and the animals that share the land with us. Loving the Earth as we love God and as we love our neighbors and ourselves is just and right and good. 

Of course, we can only love what we know. And so, perhaps, this love grows just a little each time we pause to watch a bug crawling along, or make time to just be outdoors. Surely this love grows when we pause before a meal to give thanks for the sustenance we receive from the Earth. And I can feel this love deep in my bones when I take my shoes off and walk on a carpet of grass, or grow silent to hear the wind rustling in the cottonwood branches. 

I reached out to several people in our congregation this week to ask them a simple question, “What have you learned from plants?” I had so much fun reading their responses. And I noticed several themes that emerged from these wise people. 

Nearly everyone spoke of their amazement at the sheer adaptability of plants. Les Kuhlmann noted that this is because plants don’t have feet….they must learn to thrive wherever they are. Too wet? Too dry? Too hot or cold? They have to roll with it. Their lives depend on it.

Plants in our gardens that we thought were long gone, bloom once more, reminding us of friends and family who shared with us years ago. Mary Ellen Titus spoke of remembering the eyes of a kindergartener who shared a few sprigs of sedum….all these years later, Mary Ellen remembers her when the sedum returns each year in her garden. 

And it’s a good thing plants are resilient, because we and other animals rely on them for life! As Tim Kaine pointed out, “If it were not for green plants (which are capable of making their own food from sunlight and what they draw from the soil) we would not be here; as humans are little more than charismatic plant parasites, and not always that charismatic.”

Tim also noted that plans have adapted to nearly everything over the millennia. Fire, flood, invasive species, climate change. He closed his reflections this way, “I could go on at some length...but what lessons we can gain if we will but observe, seek to understand how to behave, listen, and contribute to a community of diversity; a community which shows us the way to stability and sustainability.”

When we do what Tim counsels...when we learn from the natural world, we take our rightful place in the Garden once more. Not as conquerors or owners...but as co-creators, friends, neighbors. We were given every kind of plant...not only for food, but as companions and teachers. 

Perhaps there is a way back to the Garden….after all, our entire faith story is one of eternal do-overs. It begins with what Kimmerer calls “becoming indigenous to a place”....”living as if your children’s future matter[s], [taking care of] the land as if our lives, both material and spiritual, depend on it.” [5] 

Because they do. 

May it be so. In our hearts and our actions. Amen. 

[1] Quotes in preceding paragraphs from Kimmerer, 56. 

[2] Kimmerer, 2-5.

[3] Kimmerer, 6-7.

[4] Kimmerer, 9. 

[5] Ibid.