Cultiver Notre Jardin

At the very end of Voltaire’s book Candide, these famous words are spoken by Candide: “Mais il faut cultiver notre jardin.”  The phrase is translated from French into English in various ways and means something to the effect of, “We must cultivate our garden” or “We must tend to our own affairs.”  There is apparently quite a debate about what Voltaire meant by the phrase and what world view Voltaire was prescribing with the book, and I certainly don’t have enough knowledge of the book or Voltaire to offer any intelligent opinion on the question.  But regardless of what it was supposed to mean in the book, I like the phrase for what I take it to mean for myself: that we are to care for our own family first and foremost.  If the Lord can call the House of Israel His “vineyard” and “the men of Judah his pleasant plant,” then perhaps I can consider my own children and family as “my garden” that I must cultivate and care for (2 Nephi 15:7).  At the end of the day there is no greater purpose, no more noble task, and nothing that will benefit society as a whole more than to nourish and teach and watch over our children.    

                In the allegory of Zenos in Jacob 5 the Lord showed us how He takes care of His own garden.  Elder Holland put it this was as he spoke of the intensive labor that the Lord performs in His vineyard: “Clearly this at-one-ment is hard, demanding, and, at times, deeply painful work, as the work of redemption always is. There is digging and dunging.  There is watering and nourishing and pruning.  And there is always the endless approaches to grafting—all to one saving end, that the trees of the vineyard would ‘thrive exceedingly’ and become ‘one body; … the fruits [being] equal,’ with the Lord of the vineyard having ‘preserved unto himself the … fruit’ (see here).  Surely that kind of absolute devotion to nourishing His vineyard is an example for how we should approach our own stewardships, and most importantly our responsibility of caring for our children.  What impresses me is that in the allegory the Lord did not just try one method or even use the same approach for each of the trees He was trying to save.  Instead He tried everything He could possibly think of to preserve the trees and bring forth fruit.  Perhaps this is the same spirit with which we should approach our responsibility to teach children “to understand the doctrine of repentance, faith in Christ the Son of the living God, and of baptism and the gift of the Holy Ghost by the laying on of the hands” (D&C 68:25).  That work demands our “heart, might, mind and strength” like no other that the Lord has given us (D&C 4:2).  We have in our lives many “gardens” to nourish and cultivate as we interact with God’s children, but as modern prophets have consistently taught, there is none more important than the one “within the walls of our own home.”  This reminder of what we already know in our minds so well is really for myself so that as I labor in the many fields of my own responsibility I won’t forget that cultivating the garden at home is my greatest duty.