Not too long ago, I was driving along a quiet back road of St. Mary's County when my eyes were drawn to a gardener tending one of the most immaculate vegetable gardens I’ve ever seen. The soil looked dark and velvety, obviously enriched by years of compost and careful tilling. The rows of corn, green beans, and tomatoes stood in perfect lines, as if measured with a carpenter's laser level. I didn’t see a single weed in the expansive plot; it looked as though the gardener had been standing guard around the clock to prevent the invasion of unwanted plants. As I passed by, I found myself marveling at the skill and dedication of this master horticulturist.

I don’t do much gardening myself, but I’ve done enough to know how much expertise and persistence a good garden requires. About a decade ago, I decided to try my hand at growing some food for my family. A season’s worth of work and at least a hundred dollars in gardening supplies yielded about fifteen dollars’ worth of vegetables — and a whole lot of weeds. If the grocery store food supply ever collapses, my family is in trouble.

As I’ve been reflecting recently on the opening chapters of the Bible, though, I’ve come to realize that gardens teach us an important lesson about the dignity of human beings and human work. Left on its own, nature does not produce gardens; it produces wild forests, jungles, and deserts, but not gardens. Gardens require the planning of human minds and the work of human hands. Gardening calls for gardeners made in the “image of God,” capable of bringing greater order and beauty to the natural world, reflecting something of the wisdom of the Creator.

Let’s briefly recap the first two chapters of Genesis to see how this message is communicated in Scripture.

In Genesis chapter 1, God creates the world over six days and rests on the seventh. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church explains, these early chapters use “figurative language” (CCC 390), so this doesn’t mean the universe reached its current form in six literal 24-hour days. Rather, Genesis reveals that the Lord is a God of order, methodically bringing form and fullness to a world that was “without form and void” (Gen 1:1). The seven-day structure of the narrative points to both the dignity of human work throughout the week and the importance of resting with the Lord on the seventh day.

In Genesis chapter 2, we read a second creation account centered on the Garden of Eden. Somewhat surprisingly, this narrative begins by saying that the Lord had not caused plants to grow in the field because “there was no man to till the ground” (Gen 2:5). Just as God brought beauty and order out of the chaos of the primeval world (Gen 1), he desired someone made in his image to cultivate and sustain that order in his garden (Gen 2). The Lord therefore formed Adam from the dust of the earth, breathed his Spirit into him, planted the Garden of Eden, and “put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it” (Gen 2:15).

Scripture thus reveals that the human person is a fundamental part of creation. While some modern environmental philosophies tend to view humans as intruders in the natural world, Genesis presents humanity as having an essential role in extending God’s order and beauty within it. Although it is certainly true that fallen humanity has often exploited and plundered creation—a concern Pope Francis frequently highlighted—our minds and hands are capable of work marked by great dignity and creativity.

Our human dignity extends well beyond gardening, of course. When a carpenter turns a stack of building materials into a home, he is reflecting the image of God. When a mother turns ingredients from the grocery store into a family meal, she is reflecting the image of God. When a janitor restores the beauty of building after a day of use, he is reflecting the image of God. When an accountant organizes and plans income and expenses, she is reflecting the image of God. All human work, when done with care, can in some small way manifest the order and beauty of our Creator.

The next time you drive past a garden, then, take a moment to consider the mind that planned it and the hands that tended it. Remember that your daily work, too, can be a reflection of the divine image in which you were made.