Good Friends from the Garden

 “…Then the Lord God said,

‘It is not good for the adam to be alone like this;

I will make for it an equal partner who will rescue this one from loneliness.’

So, from the clay of the ground,

God shaped every animal of the land and every bird of the air,

and brought them to the adam to see what it would call them;

And whatever the adam called every living creature, that was its name. 

So, the adam gave names to all the animals,

and the flying creatures of the sky, and to all the wild creatures of the field, 

but the adam could not find another being like itself,

there was no power the Lord God thought suitable for the adam

It still was not good, not complete. 

So, the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon this one

Who still stood alone in the garden…”

(Genesis 2:18-21 paraphrased)

This has to be one of the most overlooked scenes in the drama of the Creation stories!  At least when kid’s hear the stories, you can almost see their imaginations bursting out of their little bodies.  You can see the garden getting crowded in their eyes while all sorts of fury friends join the party.  As this human wanders the garden, animals are brought in and each one get’s its own special name.  It’s like the most enchanting petting zoo ever!  I love the old Creation stories from the Hebrew Bible.  But, somehow the full version of this little part of the story often get’s left out.  When I was younger, someone failed to let my imagination run as far as God intended.  So, I’ll make up for it now. 

The writer, director and main character all in one unfold the drama like a potter at play with his clay, “The Lord God formed the adam from the adamah and breathed into it the breath of life; then the adam became a living being.” (2:7)  This living creature was different from all the other living things in the garden. It was filled and animated by the same Spirit that hovered over the primordial chaos from before.  But this one from the dust, even with the source of life itself in it, was alone.  The project of Creation approaches its climax in this one, but humanity and all of Creation is incomplete until the clearest reflection of the image of God is seen in two standing face to face…together.  God, who is communal love, knows the work of creation must continue until there are two.  They were to be male and female, both created in the image of God, each held together so intimately they could not help but celebrate with the One who brought them to one another.  Yet, before the house lights came on and everything that is in the heavens and on the earth erupts with wonder and praise, there was a serious snag in the process.

The story seems to show God in great distress when it’s clear that for the first time in the whole creative process, something is “not good.”  So, in some moment of creative panic or purpose, God makes all the animals and brings them to this almost human hoping it would find the companion God intended all along. 

What was this?  Did God run out of colors to use in this great cosmic painting? Was God seriously improvising, fashioning one animal after the next trial and error style?  These creatures were among those the adam would care for and have dominion over.  What game was God playing here?  Surely, no suitable partner could be found among these.  This is more than a snag in the story. This seems like a Creation experiment fail on God’s part!  I mean how many tries does it take God to get it right?

Evidently even God needs second chances. Or maybe God knows true love requires such a great search on our part that it must ultimately be sustained and fulfilled by God’s boundless grace in presenting us with an other so similarly unique no one else and nothing else could compare.  I find new peace as I trust God is still at work creating in a process that once seemed to end in failure.

Still, my imagination leads me to wonder if this lesser told portion of the story should really be interpreted as failure. Perhaps, the real end was fulfilled through this part of the drama.  We were meant to find ourselves in a multidimensional relationship with our planet and all the living things that are a part of it, just as we are in relationship to God, ourselves and others.    In the story that plays in my imagination, this part of the creation experiment awakens us to the great joy and responsibility seen in our deep relationship to other creatures. 

Meet Cleo, my eleven month old dog.  I’ve had other dogs before and I miss them dearly, but Cleo has been a delight.  Cleo’s a Vizsla (vee-sh-la).  Among other qualities, they’re known for their unending energy, loyalty and drive to hunt along side their companions.  Cleo is no exception.  When I found Cleo, I knew she’d stretch me with her desire for action and need for purpose in life.  Yet, I could not have imagined how close she and I would become this early in life. 

When she turned five months old, I discovered Cleo had osteosarcoma, or bone cancer.  The news came like one more cheap shot blow from life.  Given how incredibly rare it is for a puppy to have this cancer, I couldn’t help but wonder if everything I touched in life would be destroyed.  I chose the no treatment route and decided we’d try to make the most of her six month life expectancy while she was still strong. 

Meet Cleo, my eleven month old cancer dog.  It’s amazing how even less sophisticated animals seem to find a way to survive.  Today, you’d hardly be able to tell she’s been diagnosed with cancer.  She hasn’t lost a step yet. I’ve learned so much in my relationship with her.  I’m sure other pet owners can relate, but I think God loves to love us through friends like Cleo. 

For the most part, Cleo lives in the moment.  While I struggle and worry over the past or future, Cleo reminds me my best energy is spent in discovering what the present could be like.  When I’ve been tempted to lay down in the most hopeless realities of life, she has a way of lying down with me, but is quick to search for a new and worthy reason to get up and move.  When I’ve grown weary on the trail, Cleo sprints ahead like life depends on it; yet only far enough to where she can still hear or see me.  It’s not long before she runs back to pull me forward as if I must see what’s ahead.  Along side Cleo, strangers on the trail become friends and you learn to trust the pack as family.  All the while, Cleo’s learning to follow as I learn to lead more intently.

I can hear some say, “Well Mark, this sounds nice; cute really. But you realize, you’re just finding symbols and insight into life from an animal that is so much simpler, primal and driven by instinct compared to another human being.”  Hear me say, “Exactly! Isn’t it beautiful?”  I don’t pretend my relationship with my pet is anything near what I experience in community with other people.  And as much as I love Cleo, I’m sure I will still not know the love imagined in the Creation stories until I’m surprised with one whom God will celebrate in saying, “This is very good.”  In the meantime, however, I’m profoundly thankful for the contagious energy and adventurous spirit I share with one of those animals I imagine was brought into the garden to join the community.