I love the stories behind John Muir’s life. They are an endless string of adventure, reflection, and exploration – all things I thoroughly enjoy. There is actually one story in particular that I have grown rather fond of over the last several months. It is with regard to his thousand mile trek from Indiana to the Gulf of Mexico.

It’s not so much the walking a thousand miles part that I found most fascinating, but rather the people and personalities that crossed his path during the journey. Each and every night Muir would find himself in a new and unfamiliar place, and each and every night he would solicit strangers for both food and shelter.  One night, as he passed through rural, post- Civil War, Kentucky,  he asked a blacksmith and his wife if he could stay the night at their home. They graciously welcomed him, prepared supper, and entertained. It was during supper that Muir revealed his self-appointed mission to walk the states and observe all the plants and animals he possibly could. To this, the blacksmith said,” You look like a strong-minded man and surely you are able to do something better than wander over the country and look at weeds and blossoms. These are hard times, and real work is required of every man who is able. Picking up blossoms doesn’t seem to be a man’s work at all in any kind of times.”

Muir then replied,” You are a believer in the Bible, are you not? Well you know that Solomon was a strong-minded man, and he is generally believed to be the wisest man the world has ever saw, and yet he considered it worth while to study plants; not only to go and pick them up as I am doing, but to study them…” He then goes on to say, “And again, do you not remember that Christ told his disciples to ‘consider the lilies how they grow,’ and compared their beauty with Solomon in all his glory? Now, whose advice am I to take, yours or Christ’s? Christ says ‘consider the lilies.’ You say, ‘Don’t consider them…” (A Thousand Mile Walk to the Gulf by John Muir)

If I was to translate this conversation into more modern terms, then it would sound a little something like this, “How can you afford to bum around during this recession like some hippie. Being an environmentalist is hardly a worthwhile vocation for any man at any time. Stop slacking off and do some real work already.” John Muir then replies with a spiritual round house kick to the jugular of the blacksmith’s remark; bringing both silence and respect from his host.

This story resonates with me. Rarely, if ever, do I get to see a great example of someone who is able to fuse the Christian faith with true stewardship and appreciation for nature. John Muir seemed to be able to do it with such simplicity, elegance, and honor. It was just natural for him.

I’m looking forward to seeing more “John Muirs” over the next several years, or people who are able to make and see the connection between their faith and their duty to steward the environment. Faith and environmentalism do not have an “either/or” type of relationship. Instead, they will always, and have always been intimately involved.