John Muir’s background was clearly Christian, but because of his father’s harsh, mean and unloving display of Christianity, John pretty much gave up on any formal Christian practice—indeed making him sound, at times, like a pantheist.  Certainly in many of his writings he continued to speak biblical truth, and because he recovered for us a due respect for the Creator and the creation that was rapidly being degraded by the Industrial Revolution, he can still act as a prophet for us.

Someday I would love to do an in-depth study comparing the life of Muir with the life of George MacDonald, who was his contemporary—but in Great Britain.  MacDonald, unlike Muir, had a Calvinist father who was wise and kind, who demonstrated great love for the Creator, and consequently great love for his own son.  MacDonald, like Muir, was fully captivated by the creation.  In fact, MacDonald remained a scientist all his life—even when he was becoming famous for his books.  He lectured for many years in chemistry and physics.  I wonder how much greater would have been the influence of Muir had he maintained clear allegiance to the transcendent, risen Savior as much as to an earthbound Creator.

MacDonald wrote a novel in 1886 that could have pointed Muir in the right direction.  The book’s title was What’s Mine Is Mine with a major theme being the true meaning of the earth and of money.  The Americanized version of it was republished on its 100th anniversary by Bethany House with the title The Highlander’s Last Song.  My reading of it became a profoundly spiritual experience—actually leading me to my avocation as writer and speaker on creation care.

The two main characters are brothers who are at different stages in their faith.  Ian, the younger, understands better the transcendent side of faith and seeks to wean Alister away from the love of possessing property.  While this pertained in part to Scottish clan property, Ian’s concern also included the wild moors and highlands.  I could almost imagine this discussion going on between George MacDonald and John Muir.

Ian speaks:

“Did you ever think of the origin of the word ‘avarice’?  I think it comes from the same root as the verb ‘have.’  It is the desire to call THINGS ours—the desire of company which is not of our kind.  We call the holding in the hand, or house, or pocket, or purse, or the power ‘having.’  But things can never be ‘had.’ ‘Having’ is but an illusion with regard to things.  It is only what we can ‘be with’ that we really possess.  A love can never be lost; it is a true possession.  But who can take his diamond ring, or his piece of land, into the life beyond?  These are not possessions.  Thus, only love and only God can be ours perfectly.  Nothing called property can be ours at all.”

“I know all that—with my head, at least,” said Alister; “but I am not sure how you apply that to me.”

“Do you not see that the love of our mother earth is meant to be but a beginning; and that such love as yours for the land belongs to that love of things which must perish? I say there is a better way of loving the ground on which we were born than to love it so that the loss of it would cause us torture.”

Alister listened as to a prophecy of evil. . . .  “Don’t be upset with me!” cried Alister, “I want to think and do what is right.  But you cannot know how I feel or you would spare me.  I love the very stones and clods of the land!  The place is to me as Jerusalem to the Jews.

“They loved the land as THEIRS,” said Ian; “and have lost it!  I am only afraid that your love for the soil will get all the way into your soul.  We are here but pilgrims and strangers.  God did not make the world to be dwelt in, but journeyed through.  We must not love it as He did not mean we should.  If we do, He may have great trouble and we must hurt before we are set free from that misplaced love. . . .  If He had to take from you everything in order to give you what He had for you, He would take everything from you. . . .  All is man’s only because it is God’s.  The true possession of anything is to see and feel in it what God made it for, and the uplifting of the soul by that knowledge is the joy of true having. . . .  We must never fear the will of God, Alister.  We are not right with Him until we can pray heartily ‘Thy will be done’!—heartily, not in sad submission.  When we wish what He does not wish, we are not only against Him, but against our real selves.  Only the will of God is desirable.  Nothing else will satisfy us, no matter how it seems that other things can.”

I find that it is all too easy, as an advocate of creation stewardship, to make Alister’s—and John Muir’s—mistake of loving the creation perhaps more than the Creator.  MacDonald is a great mentor on this for me because he fought the same tendency.  I especially appreciate this statement: “The true possession of anything is to see and feel in it what God made it for, and the uplifting of the soul by that knowledge is the joy of true having.”

If those complaining to the government for denying them their “private property rights” actually were about seeing and feeling in their property what God made it for, I would be far more sympathetic with them.  I wonder if even one Christian property owner in a thousand understands that property responsibilities come before property rights.  Nor do most live as though they really believe that God is the owner of all property anyway.  If all property owners recognized their role as stewards of God’s land, they could not help but place their responsibilities before their rights. [See the article "Principles of Land Ownership and Development for Christians.]

As to Ian’s comment on our being pilgrims and stranger just journeying through, I don’t believe he was demeaning the value of earthly property, but pointing out that until the coming again of Jesus, all land passes from one landholder to the next.  You can’t keep land; you can only bequeath it.  It will perpetually pass from one steward to another until it is transformed in the end into a Garden greater than Eden.

In the meanwhile, the earth suffers under the “ownership” of those who really do not know the meaning of nor experience the joy of true ownership.

See you outdoors,

Dean