The Gardener's Work

The Gardener's Work: Cultivating New Life in South African Soil

A Personal Encounter with Earth and Spirit

The red African earth stains my hands as I kneel in my small garden here in Akasia, the winter sun warming my back. This morning, I found a stubborn weed with roots deep beneath the surface—the kind that snaps off at the stem if you don't dig carefully around it. As I worked the soil loose, I remembered my grandfather's words: "A weed is just a plant whose virtue hasn't been discovered yet." But he also knew that some plants simply choke the life from others and must be pulled out completely.

Last week, I visited the Friends of the Market 2025 event at Kgabo Lodge just beyond Pretoria . Amidst the vibrant creativity of local artisans, I noticed how every beautiful craft—every hand-carved toy and intricately beaded necklace—required first the removal of what didn't belong: excess wood, misplaced beads, imperfect materials. Our souls, too, require such careful excavation.

The Biblical Mandate: Putting Off and Putting On

Scripture declares: "Put off your old self... and put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness" (Ephesians 4:22-24) . This is no gentle suggestion but a radical command—an invitation to spiritual surgery.

The Greek word for "put off" (*apotithēmi) means to cast away, to strip off like filthy rags. It's the same word used when the blind man cast off his garment to come to Jesus (Mark 10:50). He didn't carefully fold it first—he threw it aside! Why? Because when you're coming to the Healer, you don't cling to the reminders of your brokenness.

Yet how often do we trim rather than uproot? We nip at surface behaviors while leaving the taproot of sin intact. We address the angry outburst while nurturing the root of resentment. We pluck the leaf of gossip while watering the root of insecurity. This is spiritual gardening with gloves on—afraid to get dirt under our nails.

The South African Context: Weeds in Our Soil

In our beloved South Africa, we understand both beautiful growth and stubborn weeds. Our national landscape reflects our spiritual one. As reported by Human Rights Watch, our country still grapples with deeply rooted issues: "violence against women and girls not only remained alarmingly high, but increased" . The same report notes how "severe food poverty affected 23 per cent of children in the country" —a statistic that should grieve us all.

These aren't merely social issues but spiritual ones. Xenophobia grows from the root of fear. Corruption springs from the root of greed. Gender-based violence erupts from the root of failed masculinity—a distortion of God's design for men as protectors rather than predators.

I see this in my own neighborhood. Just last month, a community meeting about water shortages devolved into shouting matches. We surface-trimmed with temporary solutions while ignoring the roots: unforgiveness from past conflicts, distrust of local leadership, racial tensions we pretended had been healed.

Philosophical Foundation: Truthing It in Love

The Christian philosopher Dru Johnson argues that Scripture itself presents a coherent philosophy—what he calls "Hebraic philosophy"—that rivals Greek philosophical traditions . It's not less rational but differently rational, grounded in the conviction that truth is not merely propositional but performative.

Ephesians 4:15 commands us to practice "truthing it" (alētheuō in Greek)—a rich verb that encompasses speaking, living, and embodying truth in love . This is no abstract concept but a holistic way of being. You don't just "know" truth; you "do" truth. You don't just believe; you become.

Let me formulate this logically:

· Major Premise: Whatever God creates reflects His nature (righteousness, holiness, love)

· Minor Premise: God created humanity in His image but that image has been marred by sin

· Conclusion: Therefore, restoring God's image requires both removal of sin (putting off) and restoration of divine nature (putting on)

This isn't self-improvement but identity reclamation—remembering who we were originally created to be.

The Gardener's Method: How Uprooting Happens

1. Identification: Naming the Weeds

The gardener must first recognize what doesn't belong. The Holy Spirit serves as our divine horticulturist, pointing out invasive species we've tolerated too long. He might use:

· Scripture: Like a plant identification guide, God's Word shows us what pleases Him

· Community: Fellow gardeners who notice what we've overlooked

· Consequences: The fruit that reveals the root

2. Extraction: Removing the Roots

Surface trimming won't suffice. We must ask why we cling to certain sins. What empty promise does this weed make? What false protection does it offer? The root of gossip might be hunger for significance. The root of greed might be fear of lack. The root of prejudice might be unhealed wounds.

3. Cultivation: Planting What Nourishes

Nature abhors a vacuum—empty soil quickly grows new weeds. We must "put on" before we fall back. This is the wisdom of Ephesians: we don't just put off falsehood; we put on truth. We don't just put off stealing; we put on generous labor. We replace what tears down with what builds up.

African Spirituality and Christian Distinctives

In our African context, we understand spiritual power. Traditional healing practices recognize that sickness often has spiritual roots. But Christianity offers something unique: not just power to remove evil but power to become good.

This isn't the prosperity gospel that promises pain-free living. True gardening involves blisters and backaches. After South Africa's recent elections , we're learning that national healing requires uncomfortable truth-telling. So does personal transformation.

I learned this after my father passed. Grief uncovered roots of anger I didn't know I had—anger at missed opportunities, at things unsaid. I had to let the Spirit dig deep into childhood memories, into cultural expectations of masculinity that prevented emotional honesty. It was painful but necessary gardening.

Practical Cultivation: Gardening Lessons

1. Daily Inspection

Spend 5 minutes each evening asking: "Where did I feel tension today? What response surprised me? Where did I feel shame?" These might indicate hidden roots.

2. Soil Testing

The quality of the soil determines the health of the plant. Test your soil through:

· Scripture immersion: Not just reading but marinating

· Worship: Music that nourishes the soul

· Community: Authentic fellowship that doesn't mask brokenness

3. Intentional Planting

Identify Christ-like qualities you want to cultivate and practice them specifically:

· If you struggle with patience, intentionally choose the longest queue

· If you struggle with generosity, give something away daily

· If you struggle with criticism, practice speaking blessing over those who irritate you

The Hope: From Death to Life

Here's the miraculous hope: The very place of uprooting becomes the place of planting. God doesn't just discard weedy soil; He redeems it. The wound becomes a well. The broken place becomes the fertile ground.

Jesus declared, "I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener" (John 15:1) . This gardening God doesn't merely demand growth; He enables it. He doesn't stand afar off with a clipboard; He gets His hands dirty in the soil of our souls.

The same power that raised Christ from the dead is available to uproot our deepest strongholds and plant divine life in their place. This isn't metaphor but reality—the resurrection power that transforms addicts into advocates, victims into healers, bigots into bridge-builders.

Conclusion: Becoming Gardeners

My friends, we live in a land that desperately needs spiritual gardening. As our nation grapples with load-shedding of various kinds , we recognize that our greatest power shortage isn't electrical but moral and spiritual.

Yet we don't despair, for we know the Master Gardener. We've seen Him take crucified flesh and make it glorious. We've seen Him take apartheid-era hatred and plant reconciliation. We've seen Him take our own broken stories and make them redemption narratives.

So let us come to Him without gloves—raw, real, and ready for the holy excavation. Let us allow Him to uproot what must be removed and plant what must grow. And then, marvel of marvels, let us become gardeners ourselves—agents of resurrection in a world longing to bloom.

Prayer: Father Gardener, we open the soil of our souls to You. Dig deep, Lord. Uproot what resembles death and plant what resembles Christ. Make our lives fertile ground for Your glory—in Jesus' name, Amen.