Too Slow

Today on OnBeing's Instagram a poem was read by Fr. James Martin called The Slow work of God. It was written by a Jesuit Priest named Pierre Teilhard de Chardin who was also a paleontologist and geologist.  His life work really challenged religious thinkers to view their ideas through the lens of evolution, while also calling scientists to dig into the ethical and spiritual implications of their work.  He took part in the discovery of the Peking Man, and devoted his life to studying the intersection of faith and science. 

I believe this poem is actually a part of a letter that he wrote, but honestly don't know much about it.  However, it really spoke to me today when I listened to it being read.  

The Slow Work of God

Above all, trust in the slow work of God.
We are quite naturally impatient in everything to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something unknown, something new.
And yet it is the law of all progress
that it is made by passing through some stages of instability—
and that it may take a very long time.
And so I think it is with you;
your ideas mature gradually—let them grow,
let them shape themselves, without undue haste.
Don’t try to force them on,
as though you could be today what time
(that is to say, grace and circumstances acting on your own good will)
will make of you tomorrow.
Only God could say what this new spirit
gradually forming within you will be.
Give Our Lord the benefit of believing
that his hand is leading you,
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete.

I have been struggling with impatience a bit these days.  It is as though something new is coming at us, but we can't yet see what it looks like.  Have you felt this sense of urgency, for something to give or change, or move forward? As a pastor right now we have entered into those "what's next" conversations.  When can we gather, how many people can be there, what does being safe actually mean, and how do we continue being the church in the meantime?  The questions surround me, but the path forward is unclear.  We must wait.  I also find that this feels a bit like a freight train coming right at me, and my brain is still trying to figure out the next right step for this day, and the next, and the next.  

I have never been good at "accepting the anxiety of feeling myself in suspense and incomplete."  These are hard spaces in which to reside, and yet it is in these spaces, in these times, that we are shaped and forced to trust the movement of God.  As you know if you've been reading these posts, I have also questioned what is next for my life.  How will this unique time offer gifts that change my future?  What are the lasting effects of this on your future?  Will we see the world differently, will we see each other differently?  Will we take better care of creation and our neighbors?  What is it that God is bringing to life in you?  

Listening to this poem today, the phrase that got me over and over was, "Don't try to force them on, as though you could be today what time will make of you tomorrow."  When we want all the answers, when we want things to get back to normal, when we yearn for things to make more sense, or to have a clear path forward....perhaps we are just unable to see the wisdom of tomorrow.  I think God's work is slow because we are often tough to mold.  It is a beautiful sacred connection that our God has with each of us, knowing us intimately, recognizing the hardest parts and the yearnings of our spirits, seeing what could be in our future, and allowing us to sit with the present as it molds and shapes us.  

If we can engage our lives with this perspective we might not be in such a hurry for those next steps, we might just find ourselves enjoying every moment of the slow work of God.  

Thankful to be on this journey with you,
Pastor Devon