Puzzled at the repugnant odor polluting the early morning air, Jerome slows from a jog to a shuffle, then to a complete stop in front of his neighbor’s picket fence. Spotting Jim with a watering can, he breaks the silence. “He neighbor, beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
“Wonderful!” replies Jim.
“Say,” continues Jerome, “do you smell that? It smells like gasoline.”
“Yeah,” Jim replies, smiling from ear to ear. “I decided to step out of my boring life, so I joined the ‘Gas Your Plants Club.‘ It’s online and we now have several thousand members. There’s a whole movement of intellectuals, doctors, lawyers, politicians, and celebrities that have started hydrating their gardens with gasoline instead of water. I am the first on our block!”
“But, Jim, you know it will kill your plants, don’t you?” Jerome queried with wrinkled brow.
Jim clears his throat as if offended and boldly retorts, “See for yourself. This is the second day I’ve done this, and my plants are doing just fine – thank you very much. I get so tired of judgmental, straight-laced people telling me how to care for my own garden. I am more of a free thinker and I’m through kau-towing to societal norms.”
“I like to try new things too,” counters Jerome, “but this isn’t a philosophical or intellectual issue; you are defying the laws of nature.” But Jerome, realizing Jim had turned his back on him and shut him out as he continued sprinkling gasoline on his garden, saves his breath. As he resumes his jog, he ponders the situation. If Jim wants to kill his garden, that is his choice, but what happens when that gasoline seeps into other yards, and into the water table?
A week later Jerome once again slows his pace as he approaches his neighbor’s picket fence. This time he hears sobbing and sees Jim slumping over his garden. “Are you ok,” he inquires?
“No, I’m not ok,” barks Jim, “can’t you see my garden is ruined? I am so angry at God. How could he allow this to happen? If He were a good God, wouldn’t He have kept my garden alive? My wife and I save money by eating the vegetables. I am a victim!”
“But Jim,” reasons Jerome, “didn’t I warn you? You can’t expect God to suspend the laws of nature just because you are bored with good gardening practices. You can’t just invent your own laws of nature.”
“There you go, judging me again,” complains Jim. “I’ll show you. I’m going to replant, and my next garden will be better than ever. This time, I’m using diesel.”
A word to the wise: Just like Jim will never succeed in growing a garden if he continues to ignore agricultural laws of nature, none of us can succeed in life when breaking the moral laws of nature. When people or societies abandon moral laws in the name of innovation and cutting-edge societal evolution, they always get the same results; death and disappointment. This is a matter of historical record. Regardless of creed or political stripe, moral violations eventually kill families, promote societal violence and drive things like slothfulness and inflation. It’s not a matter of opinion, philosophy, or religion; it is a matter of acknowledging the moral laws of the universe. There are consequences, and we can’t say God didn’t warn us.
The good news is, people like Jim can plant a new garden, water it with fresh water, and enjoy a good crop. Likewise, people and societies can always embrace healthy moral practices and enjoy a better world.