A "field" in the Bible usually represents the Lord's church, and more specifically the desire for good within the church. It's where good things start, take root, and grow. When you have a desire to be a good person and to do good things, the natural first questions are "What does that mean?", "What should I do?", "What can I do?". You look for ideas, concepts, direction. Once you figure out something you want to do or a change you want to make in yourself, you seek specific knowledge. If you want to volunteer at a food pantry, say, you'd need to know whom to call, when they need help, where to go, what to bring. Armed with that knowhow, you're ready to get to work. That process could be compared to food production. You start with a field -- which is that desire to be good. Then you plant seeds -- those ideas and concepts. Those seeds sprout into plants -- the specific facts and knowledge needed for the task (easily seen in the food pantry example, but also true with deeper tasks like "being more tolerant of my co-workers" or "taking more time for prayer," or "consciously being a more loving spouse"). Finally, those plants produce food -- the actual good thing that you go and do. The Writings also say that in a number of cases a "field" represents the doctrine, or teachings, of the church. This sounds markedly different. The desire for good is emotional, a drive, a wanting; doctrine is a set of ideas. But for a church to be true, its doctrine must be centered on a desire for good, and must lead people toward doing what is good. So sound doctrine is actually closely bound up with the desire for good.

Water generally represents “natural truth,” or true concepts about day-to-day matters and physical things. Since all water ultimately flows into the seas, then, it follows that a sea represents a huge agglomeration of such natural truths -- usually all of the natural truth a person has, or all the natural truth a church has. Water in the sea mixes freely, and is easily stirred up by winds and currents. This is also true of the concepts we hold about natural things -- they are not all related to each other, and when relationships do exist they usually can change without damaging the concepts themselves. Many of the concepts are easily disputed, and arguments can arise like waves on the ocean -- generally with little effect other than a mixing of waters. But the sea also offers great bounty. We draw fish from it (spiritual food), float ships (doctrinal systems) on it, bathe in it (using true concepts to purify ourselves), and the water that evaporates from it and falls as rain (purer forms of truth that can attach to desires for good) makes life possible.