Agricultural practices provided a framework for the lives of many Ancient Israelites. It’s no accident that the Bible is filled with farming and land references and metaphors—most people were immersed in this work. Biblical stories reveal the relationship between Israelites, the land, and God.

The second creation story in Genesis reveals some basic information about agricultural conditions in the ancient Near East (Genesis 2:5-15). The land was dry—it needed water for things to grow. That water came from rivers and from God. Even with rains, the land needed to be worked in order to be fertile—plants didn’t naturally grow there. We see these attributes of the land in this story because they are consistent with the farming experiences of the Ancient Israelites. Arid, rocky soil (Isaiah 5:1-2) with limited water resources made agriculture a real challenge. Practices like terraced farming and irrigation canals demonstrated that human labor and ingenuity were key to the fertility of the land. Farmers also wrangled with disease, and with pests like locusts (Amos 7:1; Joel 1:1-7), mice, bats and more.

The agricultural practices of the Ancient Israelites reflected their understanding of themselves as stewards of land that was both a divine inheritance and a divine gift, but that ultimately belonged to God. God tells them in Leviticus, “No land may be permanently bought or sold. It all belongs to me—it isn’t your land, and you only live there for a little while” (Leviticus 25:23, CEV). As such, they were bound to respect the earth under God’s rules, or face poor harvests, attacks from intruders, and ultimate expulsion from the land (Leviticus 20:22; 26:14-45). They could secure abundance and peace by following the rules: “Faithfully obey my laws, and I will send rain to make your crops grow… your harvest of grain and grapes will be so abundant that you won’t know what to do with it all. You will eat and be satisfied, and you will live in safety” (Leviticus 26:3-5, CEV; read also Leviticus 26:1-13).

These rules weren’t merely whims. Rather, they were instructions for keeping the land healthy and fertile for the long term, ultimately serving their own interests as well as honoring the integrity of the creation. They also allowed for a measure of justice for the poor. For example, God commanded that the land lie fallow every seventh year, a practice that allowed the regeneration of nutrients crucial to growth. It also allowed the poor and animals to glean from the land (Exodus 23:10-11; Leviticus 25:1-7). In the years of harvest God told them not to reap all the away to the edges of the field, leaving produce for the poor (Leviticus 19:9-10).

The rules also protected the trees in times of conflict: “When you are attacking a town, don’t chop down its fruit trees… Fruit trees aren’t your enemies, and they produce food that you can eat, so don’t cut them down” (Deuteronomy 20:19, CEV). Throughout the Scriptures, trees are a symbol of nourishment—physical, intellectual and spiritual (Genesis 2:9).

God promised never to completely abandon the Israelites (Leviticus 26:44-45), but also taught them that their interactions with the land had real consequences for their health and safety. God provided an outline for environmental care, one that we must follow today.

Looking at the Text

Compare “The Song About a Vineyard” in Isaiah 5:1-7 to “A Story About a Farmer” in Matthew 13:1-9 (read also Mark 4:1-9 and Luke 8:4-8). How would Israelites hear these stories? What metaphors for the spiritual life resonate with you? What metaphors might resonate with other people in your community?

Looking at Our World

Consider the produce you purchase in the supermarket. Where was it grown? What fertilizers and pesticides were used on the land? How far did it travel to get to your table?

Industrial farms spray and hyper-fertilize their crops for maximum yield and minimum loss. Yet these practices spend the natural resources of the land and create massive pollution problems. In addition, the average food item travels 1500 miles from where it is produced to your table, requiring extensive use of fossil fuel for transportation. These would not seem to be practices that fall in line with the idea of God’s people serving as stewards of the land. Yet we are able to reap these harvests today due to the sustainable practices of our ancestors. What kind of earth legacy are we leaving for our children? What is our responsibility to them and to God to acquire food through sustainable means?

Jenny Phillips writes curriculum and resources on faith-based creation care. She has a Master of Divinity from Union Theological Seminary in New York, NY, and she lives in Brooklyn, NY.