Genesis 1: The Original Earth Day

Before commandments and covenants, there was a garden—and a job to do.

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth in six days.

On the seventh day, He rested—and called it Earth Day (some also call it the Sabbath… but hey, two things can be true).

“The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.”— Genesis 2:15

After his rest, He planted a garden—complete with fruit trees—and told Adam and Eve to take care of it. We won’t get into the part where He also told them what not to do—that’s a different story for another time.

I’m not here to start a creation vs. evolution cage match. But personally, I like to imagine God wasn’t limited to just one method of making something, and had creative license to do things in some pretty crafty ways.

Regardless of how it was done, it seems clear the heavens and the earth weren’t just tossed together as a mere backdrop for our spiritual musings.

Creation wasn’t just part of the plan—it’s central to how we live in relationship with God. When He wanted to show His love for us, He didn’t write a poem—we got oceans, sunsets, and avocado trees. And flamingos—because God has range.

Our part of the deal? Not to exploit it. Not to ignore it. But to tend, nurture, and respect the world He made for us—as a way of staying connected and living out that love.

Fun fact: Long before “rewilding” was a trendy environmental term, God had already built rest into the rhythm of the Earth:

“But in the seventh year the land is to have a year of sabbath rest.”— Leviticus 25:4

Turns out, God wasn’t just into productivity—He was also into restoration. He literally commands people to give the land a break. To let it breathe. To trust that He’ll provide even when we pause.

Also worth noting: God’s not exactly chill about people wrecking the very good planet He made. In Revelation 11:18, He not-so-subtly mentions:

“…destroying the destroyers of the earth.”

Roger that.

Caring for the planet isn’t just for people who make their own oat milk and wear compostable shoes. It’s for anyone who believes the Earth is a sacred gift—and should be treated that way.

So maybe let the Earth have a little Sabbath today.

Skip the drive—take a walk instead. Pick up some trash. Bring your own bags to the store. Plant something. Or simply step outside, take a deep breath, and offer a moment of gratitude—for the beauty that sustains us, day in and day out.

The sacred is in the simple.