Compost and Eschatological Certainties
Finding hope while digging into rotting vegetation
Live, then and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget, that until the day God will deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is contained in these two words; ‘Wait and Hope.’
Alexandre Dumas
The sun sinks earlier now than the beginning of the summer. The shorter days and cooler weather spur me to action, for the time has come to turn my compost over.
I tear down my ramshackle bin, forged from foraged pallets, twine, and t-posts. Re-constructing it a few feet over, I must act quickly - I don’t want my compost to cool down much, and I don’t have much daylight left. I stab my pitchfork into the layers of decomposing weeds and flip the rotting lasagna to the new bin.
There is a rare, odd type of human who becomes giddy at the sight of broken down organic matter. We have a fascination with the life of dirt - or at least, all the micro-organisms in it. The uninformed might label us “granola” people, or a new generation of hippies. I prefer the title of gardener - far more dignified. It was the first job ever held by humans, and even Jesus was mistaken for one. That’s an illustrious history!
Following the footsteps of giants in this field, I have little street cred. But, I do love dirt; I always have. I garden so I have an excuse to play in mud as an adult.
Thus, I am fascinated and elated by compost. My bin is doing its job: the top layers still have some form as plants, while the bottom layers are rich, dense dirt.
Instead of thinking about how tired and sweaty I am, my mind turns to theology. Another humble field, misunderstood by many and loved by those within it, theology is actually the arena I have the ticket to play in. Yet, much like gardening, I know I have so much to learn and discover. Those who have gone before me have had far greater success. They say fortune favors the bold. I don’t know if I’m bold, but maybe destiny will humor the cheeky.
Turning my thoughts from the wolves that could be lurking in our nearby woods, I think of eschatology: the study of the end times. It’s one of the more popular concepts in theology to debate, second only to Calvinism vs. Arminianism. Frankly, I find both topics to be among the least interesting in theology. They’re played out.
There are far more interesting discussions out there. What are the implications of the atonement? Why does it matter that we were made in God’s image? What is the relationship between the church, family, and government?
These will get me going.
Pre-mil vs. Amil vs. Post-mil? Pre-trib vs. mid-trib vs. post-trib?
Yawn.
I get that there are significant implications to each eschatological view, but at the end of the day, nobody knows the day or the hour - so may I be found faithful until then!
Compost gets me thinking about the things we can know for certain in a biblical perspective of the end times. While eschatology as a whole doesn’t excite me, there are components of it that are important for life today. God’s kingdom motivates my present reality.
I think about decomposing things. Gross. But with them, a promise of a better future - more effective than their original state. Weeds that would have been no use to me, put through the fire and refined to healthy dirt. I think of every action of humanity, tested to see what lasts (1 Corinthians 3:12-14).
I think about everything that led up to this time - the end. Of all that went into it. The good, the bad. Fruit, weeds, grass, prunings, vegetables - all of them went into the compost bin. All of them were building towards my final goal of good dirt. I think of Romans 8:28, and how all things are working together for good.
I think of how it all had to die, and what’s more, to break down. Nobody escapes earth unscathed - either you die a physical death, or you die to yourself to live in the Lord. Conformation to the death and resurrection of Christ is where life is found (Philippians 3:10).
This pattern of life, death, and a redefined future life inspire me. Why would I fear death if it is part of God’s plan to make things beautiful?
I think about the snakes who live in my compost bin. I bet they like the warmth and comfort of this rotting place they inhabit - but the gardener is not directed by the wishes of the snakes. Snakes don’t bear fruit.
I think about the worms who make their home in my dirt. I am pleased to have them there; they contribute to my soil. They are part of the future of this dirt, lasting beyond the changes that come to it. So, too, will the faithful.
I think of the great turning over that my compost is experiencing. It had settled into its rhythm of decomposition, but for maximum effectiveness, it needs to be flipped. I think of the changes in our world, and a coming change wherein Jesus is crowned eternal king, unchallenged and undeterred.
The inhabitants of my dirt and my world will experience the end differently. That’s how it’s supposed to be!
I think of the future. Of the purpose of my composted dirt, and how it will bear much fruit. Healthy plants start with healthy dirt.
I think of my victory in Jesus - my Savior forever. I don’t know his plan or timing, but I know his character. And I trust that!
I think of the time that it takes for the composting process to be complete, and how I can’t see the results until it’s finished. I think of the anxieties and stresses of today, and how I can’t wait to be with Jesus.
Regardless of the particulars of the end times, I know that Jesus wins. I cling to that truth! The promise of his kingdom pushes me forward today, shaping my life until its end. It affects everything, from my purpose in the church to my stewardship of my garden.
As the moon rises in the dusky sky, I chug a water and throw in the towel. My task of turning the dirt is finished. But, the compost is still cooking, and my race isn’t over. So, I wait. And I hope. And I work. And I pray, Dear God - may you find this worker faithful and fruitful when the day comes.
Thanks for spending ~6 minutes of your time with me! I hope you found this post encouraging and thought provoking. Same time next week?
Until next time: may your coffee be strong, may your burden be light, and may your prayer match your patience.
Faithfully,
Katie Stacey
PS - If you really like my writing, you can upgrade to a paid subscription. Help me pay for a doctorate or a greenhouse!
I hope you’re able to get periodic tetanus shots to protect you as you routinely work in the dirt.