I recently posted a quote from the Catholic philosopher, theologian, and scientist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin above my desk, “Above all, trust in the slow work of God.” As a paleontologist who studied fossils, he would have been well acquainted with the slow work of God. One of my personal goals for this season of Lent is to develop such patient, determined, resolve and faith.
Part of that wisdom is the recognition that I am mortal, we’re all mortal. What presently appears so pressing and urgent pales in the perspective of eternity and the slow work of God. Remember, I am dust and will return to dust. Soil is a better word. The Hebrew word for soil is Adamah. God created Adam (meaning human) out of Adamah. A literal English translation is that God created the first human out of humus. That includes all of us, including the rich and the powerful. We’re all mortal, all made from soil, and we will all die. I find that liberating. Nurya Love Parish writes:
Our mortality is meant to be a wake-up call . . . [It draws] our attention to the eternal God, our Creator, whose image we bear. . . It’s hard to grasp that the measure of my days isn’t my bank balance, my reputation among my colleagues, the relative happiness of my family. . . [Instead] the measure of my days is the relationship I have with God.
A fellow gardener recently showed me a garden bed that he had mulched with hay and manure. The dark, rich soil was teaming with earthworms and microscopic bacteria and fungi invisible to the naked eye. Most of us have no idea how much life there is right under our feet—life that we participate in. This is part of the slow work of God that literally grounds our lives and our faith.