Between the Theme Park and the Wilderness
You will have undoubtedly noticed the absence of a post yesterday yet again. What I will do today as a result is not post on the next point on the list but instead revisit, to some degree, the very first point in the series, which had to do with theme parks.
This extraordinary isolation from wilderness deserves a name. It is what makes our generation's moment in history so different from our ancestors', and quite possibly from our descendants'. Let's name it after Walt Disney's masterfully modern cultural invention: the theme park.In the theme park, culture's triumph over nature seems to be complete. Indeed, the theme is more powerful than the park: Even the shrubs at Disney World look like Disney characters. All the vestiges of wildness have been carefully pruned. You have no more to fear from the Shark Tank than the Tower of Terror—you may get a thrill from each, but the theme park is carefully designed to eliminate all real risk.The theme park is a much safer place to be a human being than the wilderness. Or is it? It may be harder to be a human being, as Genesis understands a human being, in a theme park than anywhere else. For if human beings are made in the image of God, creative cultivators of God's creation, the theme park gives them precious little space for such image bearing. There is nothing for me to create or even to tend at a theme park—employees (or to use Disney's term, 'cast members') do the creating or tending for me. Unlike the Garden, the theme park is not a place where you can get hurt—or if you do, it's not your fault, and you can sue. And to keep you from getting hurt, in the theme park, you are never alone. Not only are you accompanied by throngs of other park guests but by omnipresent representatives of the theme park corporation, there to ensure and (if necessary) enforce enjoyment of the theme park on the owners' terms.
The critique of theme parks is spot on, but does this mean that Crouch is advocating a return to the wilderness? Not at all. The Garden, though it is a place where God as Creator has given mankind all he needs to have a good life, remains an uncultivated wilderness, and it is man's responsibility to make something of it (a calling to culture, as Crouch says). But, he adds,
only because of [God's] gracious and terribly risky withdrawal does the serpent have the opportunity to tempt the man and the woman. And only in the provisional absence of the Creator do the human beings have the opportunity to twist and degrade their divine image by reaching for what the serpent craftily and deceitfully describes as 'be[ing] like God, knowing good and evil' (Gen 3:5)—as if creativity and cultural responsibility were not much more deeply 'like God' than mere knowledge.
This leads Crouch to conclude that neither theme parks nor wilderness are good places in which to be human.
Both may be enjoyable to visit (though I have my doubts about theme parks), but our ability to enjoy them actually requires qualities that only culture, the garden of humanity, can provide. Woe to the traveler who ventures into the wilderness without taking advantage of cultural resources like maps, compasses, hiking boots, tents and accumulated millennia of wisdom about ways to survive in the trackless world. Woe to the tourist parents who have developed no capacities for creativity and cultivation in their own children—they will wander through Disney's surgically sculpted paradise fending off endless complaints of boredom.Our world is unevenly divided, to say the least, between wilderness and theme parks. Most of humanity lives all too close to wilderness, at the mercy of a creation whose original good wildness has been made implacably hostile to human flourishing by the Fall. A privileged billion or so can choose to live in theme parks, where neither the dangers nor the beauty of the created, fallen world intrude on a manufactured environment of amusement. But we were made for neither theme parks nor wilderness—we were made for a place where we are challenged to become creators and cultivators. We began as gardeners.
Since this is getting lengthy, I will stop at this point. What do you think? Do you find yourself living in the theme park or the wilderness? Is Crouch's distinction helpful in understanding our calling as Christians?




















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