I have been pondering a post written by Rebecca K. Hammonds on analogies to spiritual life that can be drawn from the simplicity and complexity of understanding one’s garden soil. The reminder of getting down to the essential context by which green life emerges is timely, both from the standpoint of my progression as a gardener and spiritual sojourner. It brought to mind the importance of living at peace in the tension between the extremes of what is known and yet unknown, and brought me to remembrance of some words penned by theologian Geerhardus Vos, whose name I knew only attributed to his quote: the already and the not yet. Digging a little deeper (as is the gardener’s wont) led me to some interesting discoveries. Vos’s comment was regarding ‘inaugural eschatology’, which for we non-theologians out there, is in reference to the understanding that while we are presently in the kingdom of God, we are not yet experiencing it’s fullness but will at a future time. There is a sense in which we are fully benefit-holders, but we aren’t yet eligible for a full withdrawal on what is an eternal inheritance. Says Ephesians 1: When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession—to the praise of his glory.
And speaking of eternal treasure, Vos also wrote: The best proof that God will never cease to love us lies in that He never began.
With the virtually constant wrangling of life’s inconsistencies into places more meaningful, it is tremendously comforting to consider that the fullness we long for is precisely what we are heading for, and furthermore, that what we are ultimately heading for, through the wilderness of things temporal, l is eternal.