My family and I stopped in Savannah, Georgia and visited Forsyth Park.
After a season of wintry darkness and rain, stepping into a Spring-filled garden of blooms felt like a rebirth. Fountains sprayed their waters. Spanish moss framed every vista. And the soft grass of Spring yielded to a zephyr. It was beautiful and intoxicating.
But the beauty of Forsyth Park derives from more than the change of season. The wonder comes from the intermingling of nature and humanity. It is a city garden, and Savannah is a garden city.
The flora of nature combines with the flourishes of the imago dei for a supernatural beauty. While I love the rugged glory of a raw landscape, I have always thought the cultivated garden bespeaks a richer and more textured delight.
If you’ve ever lingered long in Central Park, you will know the beauty I am getting at. It is the picture of harmony, sustainability, and potential. And I believe it is an echo of Eden and a hint of eternity future.
As many commentators have pointed out, the image of the new Jerusalem in Revelation is one of a garden city. It is as though mankind has at last found peace in our call and environment. We are neither trampled by nature, nor trampling nature. We are caretakers, gardeners.
So the delight of Forsyth Park is not merely the joy of Spring. It is the whisper of a future and lasting shalom, when all things will be made new, when the child shall play with the asp (Isaiah 11:8), and God shall again stroll in the garden with his people (Revelation 21:3).