Archives For How Can This Be?

Unbelief and Belief in God and Words

Nathan Aaberg —  February 29, 2024 — Leave a comment

So I’m back.

Last year, as I’ll describe in a future blog, I worked two demanding jobs for two non-profits in the food and farming field. This squeezed the rest of my life. Even though I continued to think about all things Creation every day, I took a break from the blog to leave room for my family and my health.

And to be very candid, even as I took a sabbatical of sorts, I questioned whether I should continue to make this blog a life pursuit. Was what I was writing, I asked myself, significant to anyone else?

Adding further sharpness to that question was turning 60 and experiencing the limits of my constitution in my working life. I ran into my limits while appreciating more acutely that my life itself had limits. That created habitat attractive to other questions and doubts.

What do I want to give my energies to going forward? Is diving into the ideas that this blog has been my exploring the right thing to invest in? Or should I devote more energies to acting in the world out of my faith for Creation?  

Even deeper questions, questions I thought I had long ago resolved, surfaced.

Do I believe?

Am I willing to rest my life choices and convictions on commitment to God and Jesus? And if I am, how does it make sense to do so?

How, I sometimes wonder (and you may find this heretical), could God choose to give us the Bible as we have it as a major revelation of himself when it can be read so many ways and when there are threads within it that can be woven in many varieties of cloth? Why do so many of those varieties of cloth result in Christians who believe God created this world and then treat it, collectively and individually, with so much indifference?

The following tweet by a thoughtful rancher and land steward out West encapsulated it all perfectly. You can tell from her words that she has met many people of the Christian faith who are completely indifferent:

I am horrified. I know that you are horrified. But if you went to the average church and expressed your horror and asked for prayers for Creation, they would literally not know what to do with you. 

 

But Here I Am…Paying Attention

When I find myself asking all of these questions, I am a little envious of people whose faith in God and Jesus seems so secure, deeply rooted, and unshakable.

I believe. Yet I need God’s help with my unbelief.

After 60 years on this earth, I am more convinced than ever that there is more to life than the random interaction of atoms. I also find myself compelled (and I can find no other word for it) in heart and mind by the Bible and the God I find there and by that same God I find reflected in Creation. I find myself captivated, thanks in part to The Bible Project, by how the whole Bible fits together and by how Jesus fits within that whole. 

I have also come to understand this after ten years of writing — any attempt at weaving the threads of the Bible together into a satisfying and whole cloth depends on you and I really paying attention. This applies to Creation and much else that relates to how we live faith-lives.

All too often we don’t actually see what is in front of us, around us, and even inside of us. We get carried along. Sometimes we are carried along by our busy-ness and our eagerness to get on to the next thing. Sometimes we get carried along by what we expect to see or experience. The culture in which we swim and breathe can blind us. The theologies we have been taught can cause us to miss things or interpret things in a way that isn’t fair or respectful to what is right in front of us.

I believe, too, that is very possible for us to have hearts that have gone numb. We can no longer know at a deep level what really gives us life and energy. The capabilities we have that come from being made in God’s image can be covered up by the habits we fall into. Confusing the Christian faith-life with pledging alliance to the correct theology can be one of the most effective blinders to actually paying attention.

Often we need to look anew and question anew. We need to pay attention to all that is in the Bible, in Creation, and in our hearts. 

 

A Signpost in the Psalms

I recently read through all of the Psalms. It was not the first time, but in the process I saw new things I had not remembered before. Here is just one of many verses that struck me:

Psalm 145:16 

You open your hand; you satisfy the desire of every living thing.

The desire of every living thing – from fish and birds to moss and plants and even lichens – is something the Bible is mindful of. Any theology that ignores the desire of every living thing is inherently incomplete. A Christian faith-life that ignores the desires of the living things around us is unwhole.

And I would be so bold as to say that its incompleteness is not just equivalent to a puzzle missing a minor piece on the edge. It is like an engine missing its valves or its gas tank. The absence actually causes the whole not to work.

As Wendell Berry wrote, “We are are holy creatures living among other holy creatures in a world that is holy.”

Are you aware and thoughtful of the desires of every living thing? How do we balance those desires with our own lives, much less our civilization? It almost seems too much to bear. At the very least, it should force us to question how we and our community and our economy and our laws relate to Creation.

Maybe that is the role of people like me, people who live in both belief and doubt. Maybe we are here to pay attention, to balance off people so set in the narrower tracks of their faith and lives that they no longer pay attention to the world and the many subtleties and cross currents of both the Bible and Creation.

And perhaps we are in the better place to respond (as I did) to Ariel and say, “Yes, you are right. This is a precious world. And yes, I am horrified and feel despair about what people have done to God’s world. And, no actually, I can’t really explain why other people who believe this is God’s world don’t care. But the fact that they don’t care doesn’t mean God doesn’t care.”

 

Do I Believe in Words?

I sat down to write this with a general but fairly good idea of the parameters of what I intended to write. But as I let myself write, ideas and thoughts emerged that did not fit into my initial mental outline. This is when writing becomes even harder. You want the process to be smooth and predictable. Instead, you find yourself wrestling and slogging. 

And why engage in that struggle? Why does one combination of words formed from a 26-letter code seem more right than another combination of words? Why do they matter? Don’t real tangible things – like trees, houses, computers, etc. – matter more?

Maybe that is one more reason why I question this blog writing and even my desire to write a book. Maybe what I really question are words themselves.

Do I believe in words? Do I believe that words matter?

Because of how much I care about God’s earth, I’ve tended to see the production of words as somehow a lesser form of action than actually changing how God’s earth is treated. After all, if matter matters, shouldn’t I be devoting time and energy in the world of matter? Planting trees. Restoring wetlands. Farming in ways that produce nutritious food while renewing the life of the soil, of landscapes, of water?

Ironically, I like words. I love to read, especially books with a skillful and lyrical approach to words and ideas. I find a certain kind of felicity from using words in writing and speaking and especially asking questions. I felt I could not not write this blog, which seems like something you could call a calling for words.

So why would I devalue what gives me pleasure and that allows me to create with God’s help?

Perhaps it is partly because my calling, the fact that I cannot look away from God’s earth and see it treated so indifferently, is all about tangible life around us. 

So I’ve meditated further on words. And I’ve begun have a better appreciation for their deeper value and importance beyond the obvious value of communication.

Note that in Genesis God uses words to interact with matter, to call upon it to move from a state to another, to develop boundaries and to bring forth new complexity. I would suggest this is both command and invitation that gives matter direction but also creative freedom. 

And isn’t it interesting that humanity’s first work – the naming of the animals – is creativity with words? 

Words can be used for evil and wrong. That cannot be missed in the Bible. By words, you will know the intentions and state of the heart of the people around you.

Note, too, that in the Bible words have power even when used by people. There are blessings and curses. The power of the Spirit at Pentecost is revealed by an explosion of ability to use words and languages. 

One of most astonishing elements of the Gospel of John is how it labels Jesus as Word. And somehow through Jesus the Word all things are said to have been created. And in this Word-figure all things on heaven and earth will be unified and brought together in some kind of cosmic shalom. Not only will that mean an absence of conflict between people and between people and God. It also promises to be the whole connection of the whole universe. God, people, and Creation will not just have an absence of conflict but will be in joyous union and flourishing.

From all that, I’ve come to believe that words connect and they shape reality in the world itself. They have power. They are tied into the deeper structure of the universe. In a flight of fancy I even see the parallel between how the Bible depicts the creation of humanity – the merging of breath/spirit and matter — and what words themselves are – the merging of spirit/thought and the vibrating molecules all around us. 

 

At Home With Words and Deeds

I admit that I am out of my depth here. Probing the metaphysical meaning of words is a good indication that one is not in Kansas or normal company anymore. I even feel a certain self-consciousness about being so candid about my doubts and my tendency towards this mysticism. 

But at the edge of certainty and feeling alone in my convictions, I feel a surprising settledness. It is as if I have climbed to the top of a ladder with nothing to hold onto with my hands. Yet, I stand. My legs feel solid and well-braced. Even as my head says I should feel fear, I find my body balanceing. My arms no longer seek security but they do not know what to do with themselves. And yet I stand.

The purchase of balance I have comes from things that are not enough in themselves to give 100 percent stability and security.

The mysticism I find true and that resonates with what I encounter in Creation is, I realize, Biblical.

I cannot imagine not writing, not engaging with words in other ways. I need also to act beyond words, but words are also my way of acting.

I have believed what I have written. I have found belief, perhaps my own unique belief, through what I have written.

I have received emails from readers thanking me for particular blog posts. That is something.

I am coming to accept that I am who I am and that God’s abundant love is all around me and everyone  and everything. And that following what is my way, however modest it may be, is what I should give myself to. I cannot be concerned about what my particular impact is. 

Being faithful and faith-full is what I need to be about. And part of my faithfulness is to be candid about my doubts even as I proceed.

There are many more ideas and topics I want to explore around whole faith faith-lives. I also want to share more of the stories of Jesus followers (and others) who are striving to live out a whole faith. I need to wrestle with what it means to be faithful in a whole faith way in the midst of increasing climate chaos. Somehow I will find the time to do that.

Look for more blog posts to come. Look for more words.

 

P.S. While I was not writing this blog, a number of people found my blog and signed up to receive updates via email. Thanks very much for that. I also received a few direct emails expressing thanks for particular posts. I’m very grateful and pray that your convictions around cherishing Creation will grow stronger. I pray, too, that you will find others of faith who share those convictions. And not every post is so long. 🙂

permalink

Mulch Volcanoes & Living in a World of Wounds

Nathan Aaberg —  March 31, 2022 — 3 Comments
Trees in a row with mulch applied in mulch volcano way

Row of mulch volcanoes (photo: George Weigel)

My wife Mayumi recently learned about “mulch volcanoes” from the Master Gardener class she is taking through the University of Illinois Extension.

People create mulch volcanoes when they pile up mulch high against the trunk of a tree. This makes it appear that the tree trunk is erupting out of a sloping, volcano-like mound of mulch.

Mulch volcanoes look innocuous, but they’re actually harmful to trees for multiple reasons.

Just one reason is that the constant contact of wet organic material starts to break down the surface of the tree’s trunk. This eventually leads to damage to the phloem and xylem layers beneath the bark. These vascular tissues carry nutrients from the leaves to the roots and from the roots to the rest of the tree respectively. Rotting these tissues away is like applying a tourniquet too tightly to a human limb – it cuts off vital circulation. The tree will slowly die.

Ever since she learned about mulch volcanoes, my wife has been dismayed to see them seemingly everywhere.

They were, of course, there all of the time. But now she knows what to look for and knows the damage the practice does. And my wife, being who she is, wants to save every tree she sees in this condition. Her heart hurts to see these vulnerable plants suffering harm in slow motion.

This is a prime example of the truth of Aldo Leopold’s words: “The penalty of an ecological education is to live alone in a world of wounds.”

Once you understand the fascinating elements (plants, animals, microbes, etc.) of God’s earth and how those elements relate to each other ecologically, then the purposeful and unintended damage we do to Creation becomes painful to contemplate.

I know you know the truth of that statement.

I’m sure you’ve become aware of the wounds done to God’s earth nearby and around the world. Like a subdivision replacing a woods. Like a dam under construction that will drown villages and forests.

You may also have noticed that you are largely alone in seeing that harm and experiencing that ache in your heart. This is often the case in general American culture. It’s also usually the case in church culture.

When was the last time you were at a call for prayer and someone lifted up a concern related to Creation?

That combnation of being aware of the degradation of God’s Creation and of feeling alone in that awareness is something I often feel. And because the pain can be overwhelming, I sometimes begin to allow a callus to grow around my heart. Sometimes, too, I try not to see what I see or distract myself with (and I hate to admit this) YouTube videos.

But those attempts to avoid the wounds or keep them from my heart only work temporarily. I become aware of what I am doing. Or something comes onto the scene that just doesn’t allow me to escape.

The war in the Ukraine is the most recent example. The war is a disaster of epic proportions for the Ukranian people. It is also a tragedy for the many Russians who oppose it or who are simply powerless to stop it.

That’s just one level of pain.

If you remember your whole faith and do a simple Google search, then you can easily enter another level of anguish.  You will find that the Ukraine war, like any other war, is a disaster for the animals, plants, soil, and air that are all part of God’s miraculous world.

Here are revealing articles about the tragedy of the war for Ukranians, their pets, and the life of their country. The first. The second. And this is one about a young woman – Anastasia Yalanskaya – who was murdered by Russain troops while trying to deliver desperately needed food to a dog shelter.

God!

I desperately want to look away from all of this brokenness. I desperately want God to make it all all right. Right now.

As if that it isn’t hard enough, I then find myself aware that it feels wrong in America to be sad and heartbroken. That’s not what our culture wants or accepts.

And somehow it can also feel wrong as a Christian to be sad and heartbroken. I feel like a widower who frustrates his well-meaning friends calling for him to buck up and move on. Sure he lost his spouse, but she “was taken by the Lord” and is “in a better place.” There are countless ways Christian culture tries to deaden our hearts towards Creation and what we do to it.

This all leads me to two questions. The first – why could God allow such suffering for people and all of Creation? God has heard all of Creation groaning for millennia like God heard the Israelites groaning in Egypt. How can a father, the Father, not intervene? The second – how do I live in the presence of so much suffering? How can I persist in acting for God’s love of his people and His earth when the cycle of destruction keeps coming again and again? How can I persist when climate chaos threatens so much? How do I persist when the nature of today is a diminished form of what it used to be?

I know there are many complex theological ways of dealing with the first question. But here’s what I have found works for me. It is not an answer. It is more of a resonance.

The Bible makes clear that this suffering was not God’s intent. In John 3:16 and in the very sending of Jesus, we know that God loves this world. God loves this world dearly.

The Bible also makes clear that the brokenness of this world will not always persist. In some mysterious way, through Jesus the grip of evil and of the rule of destructive principalities over the world will be fully broken. There will be a new heaven and earth that is, I believe, somehow like the body of the resurrected Jesus.

And I believe that this new earth will have all of the goodness and diversity that this current earth has ever had and much, much more.

What helps me in a resonant sort of way is to know that God through Jesus experienced the suffering of the world from our sins. And isn’t it interesting that suffering and anguish are common elements of the Old and New Testaments? The majority of Psalms, for example, are laments of one kind or another. The prophets are full of sadness and anger. Jesus, who knew of God’s future for the world, wept.

I am helped, too, by the knowledge that the early Christians were able to be so revolutionary in their living and in their presence within the empire that had killed Jesus. They stood apart. They treated women differently. They welcomed people of all social strata. They offered hope, and they carried a message that changed people. The DNA of the movement must have been incredibly powerful. That also resonates and inspires.

As for how I live, I will follow the God I know through Jesus.

Jesus calls us to follow him. His path informs our path.

We must expect difficulties and be willing to sacrifice. The fact that such a way would lead Jesus to death tells me a great deal, makes it seem more authentic. In this world of wars, factory farms, and toxic agricultural chemicals being found in ambient air even on mountain tops in Europe, we must expect to face seemingly impossible odds. We must also expect to feel anguish at what cannot be stopped, like when Jesus shared his anguish at the coming destruction of Jerusalem in Matthew 23:37-39.

I find, too, a strange sort of comfort in the fact that the name – Israel – given to the people God chose to be a key part of his rescue mission for the world literally means “wrestles with God.”Moses wrestled with God at times.  So did Job and the prophets.

Faith does not mean absence of struggle. I will wrestle with God even as I follow Jesus. I will argue with God that enough is enough. I will pray for God to intervene for the sake of the whole world – people and Creation.

Mayumi and I will do what we can where we live and work to live out a whole faith with God’s help. We will seek to love God with all of our heart and soul and strength. We will seek to be good and loving to our neighors and to do what humans are meant to do – protect, keep and prosper God’s earth. Mayumi, for example, will use her Master Gardener education to help people care for their gardens and yards. I’ll keep giving all I have to my job. There I seek to expand regenerative agriculture and connect sustainable farmers with the farmland they need to farm. I will do my best to contribute my voice for this kind of whole faith. And, I have written an email to our Lake County Department of Transportation about the mulch volcanoes we saw recently in the median on a county road.

We will balance all of that with rejuvenating our hearts and spirits on a regular basis. We strive to use Sundays as Sabbaths. We enjoy good-for-God’s-world food and the company of our sons via Zoom calls. We read together. I’ll take breaks from time to time for enjoyment and relaxation, striving to have the faith to know that it is not all up to me. God is at work in the world.

Even as the war in Ukraine has brought despair, it has also brought inspiration. I read of a Ukranian couple who, as they fled the Russian invasion, remained devoted to their German shepherd. They carried their aging pet to safety as you can see in the photo below.

They could not save all of the pets and wild animals from the horrors of a war. But they could be devoted to the dear animal in their care.

 

 

permalink

Is There Hope?

Nathan Aaberg —  October 4, 2021 — Leave a comment

The North Suburban Mennonite Church in Libertyville, Illinois, has invited me to speak to their congregation and Christ Community Mennonite Church in Schaumburg on October 10th and 17th.

I’m looking forward to it and am grateful to be invited. My family and I spent one year with the congregation some time back. Learning about Mennonite history, singing their music, and understanding how they read the Bible and live their faith made a deep impression on me. My faith would not be what it is without that time with them.

They started their month of services centered on Creation yesterday. During the conversation session that followed the service, I was struck by a trend that two different people’s comments related to. One was a biology teacher who shared that her students despair over the trajectory of the world in light of population trends and climate change. She fears that communicating the trends our world faces without also offering some hope leaves her students in a bad place.

Another person shared (and here my memory doesn’t serve me well) of a young person who had tried to commit suicide in part because of the perception the young person had that he/she was, just by living, contributing to the destructiveness of climate change.

What do we do with that?

First, we must affirm that in the face of the facts we are facing, some level of despair, anger, and sadness are normal and healthy. A person who can shrug off climate chaos and the disappearing of beautiful, complex life is not, in my mind, fully human. It would be as if we expected a child whose parents are getting divorced to be upbeat and calm.

Second, we take all this to confirm what we read in the Bible. There is a fundamental sin and dysfunction in people which results in sin and dysfunction in our human systems of how we treat God’s earth and each other. Sometimes what people in despair need is not false hope or anasthetics but resonance. Knowing that others care and also see the same problems and feel the same things makes us feel less alone.

Third, we need to accept that the pain people are feeling and the diminishment of the earth are signals that we can’t ignore as followers of Jesus. We must be people of action. We sometimes fall into passivity. Yes, God is at work, but there is no sense in the Bible that we are to do nothing. We must be able to offer people in despair a chance to be part of concerted efforts to chance what is causing the problem in the first place.

Fourth, we share stories of regeneration – of people’s hearts and lives through life-changing faith in Jesus and of the earth by people and communities who have committed themselves to action.

That is a response written in a hurry. But I recognize I need to wrestle with this more.

I am grateful to have been part of the conversation and look forward to sharing more thoughts next Sunday. I hope to be able to offer a video recording later.

 

P.S. I want to welcome members of the North Suburban Mennonite Church and Christ Community Mennonite Church in Schaumburg who are coming to this blog for the first time. Please use the Topics sidebars to jump to blog posts around different topics. In particular, I’d encourage you to click on the START HERE topic category.

Two posts in particular that I’d encourage you to look at are:

True Human Exceptionalism

 

And my first blog post ever:

William Wilberforce’s Whole Faith

 

permalink

Trump, Christians, and Lawlessness

Nathan Aaberg —  May 27, 2020 — Leave a comment

Over the last four years, the following two questions have become pressing to me.

First, how have many Christians become so comfortable resenting reasonable* laws and rules designed to restrain the use of power to harm others and God’s earth?

And second, how do Christians continue to make up such a large percentage of President Trump’s supporters when his value system seems to be based more on Ayn Rand than Jesus Christ?

One example of President Trump’s bridling at restrictions is his firing of four inspector generals in short order. He also has a long history of working to weaken laws designed to protect people and God’s earth.

All of these actions echo the larger, unmistakable pattern of his presidency – the despising and resenting of restrictions and rebuke. The free exercise of personal and corporate power, even at the expense of justice and compassion, is clearly his highest good.

Fattori painting showing St. John the Baptist pointing at Herod and Herodias

St. John the Baptist rebuking Herod by Giovanni Fattori.  Herod imprisoned and ultimately beheaded John the Baptist because John rebuked Herod and Herodias for breaking laws.

This is not a Biblical approach to life. It is the celebration of power and the pursuit of individual prosperity over love, of valuing money over God. And prominent Christians, like Vice President Mike Pence, are going along.

How did we get to this point?

I believe part of the answer is that American Christianity tends to be incomplete.

The underlying assumption of this blog is my conviction that the Christian faith-life is both simple – life-changing faith in Jesus – and multi-faceted. Our goal is to have a whole faith-life that, over time, transforms how we think, how we feel, and how we act. Missing key ingredients of that whole faith-life is comparable to the impact on our body of not getting the right levels of iron or vitamin C. It causes our faith-life to be weak and sick. And that causes us to fall short of what God desires from us. It also causes us to mar the attractiveness of the Christian faith for others.

Here are three ways in which the faith-life of American Christians tends to lack key “nutrients:”

Christians tend to associate salvation only with the promise of life after death. 

In Acts 5:17-20, we read of the apostles being arrested for spreading the Good News of Jesus Christ, and an then angel releasing them. Read the passage below and consider the instructions the angel gives them:

Then the high priest and all his associates, who were members of the party of the Sadducees, were filled with jealousy. They arrested the apostles and put them in the public jail. But during the night an angel of the Lord opened the doors of the jail and brought them out. “Go, stand in the temple courts,” he said, “and tell the people all about this new life.”

Christian faith and discipleship leads to new life. Now.

Check out the meaning of “eternal life” in John 3:16 here.

Second, Christians generally don’t read the Bible.

And it is my sense that we tend to particularly avoid the Old Testament, despite the value of doing so. The Old Testament provides important “nutrients’ and “vitamins” for our our faith-lives.

One of the unmistakable messages of the prophets, for example, is that a symptom of a nation’s turning away from God is cruelty and injustice towards the poor and vulnerable.

Third, churches don’t comprehensively train people to go from believers to disciples.

In Beginning Well: Christian Conversion and Authentic Transformation, Gordon T. Smith rights:

The work of Christ makes conversion possible; even more, the actual focus and dynamic of conversion is that an individual comes to faith in Christ Jesus. Conversion is the act of believing in Jesus, choosing to follow Jesus and being united with Jesus as Lord and Savior. To be converted is to become a Christ-ian. And the purpose of conversion is that we may ultimately be transformed into the image of Christ Jesus.

Conversion is about justification and sanctification. But with a focus only on justification bringing the promise of heaven, Christians can be Christian without being transformed over time. They can have a Christian gloss even as they live as they’ve always lived. They can feel good about being “saved” even as they otherwise are carried along by values and culture that are incompatible with Jesus Christ.

Churches should instead train Christians in the Christian life. Some have.

God intends for every element of our life and being to be made whole and holy.

This is not easy. It means restraining ourselves for the sake of Jesus. It means having a heart that actually welcomes restraint and rebuke when they come out of good motivations. And it will put us on a collision course with princes and principalities motivated by different values and who, above all, hate the idea of restrictions on their use of power.

Early Christianity found itself at odds with the Roman Empire, which was built on a culture of power. Yet, the early church grew exponentially. What does that tell us?

 

* I want to be clear that not all laws are well-designed and reasonable. Governments can have a tendency to overextend their own power so that creativity and local autonomy are overly limited. The powerful can also craft laws that protect their interests. 

 

 

permalink

The Village on the Hill

Nathan Aaberg —  November 5, 2019 — Leave a comment

There once was a village on a hill.

From the hill the people of the village enjoyed views of the lush meadows and thick forests all around. The spring on the side of the hill gave clear, fresh water.

Over time, some of the families of the village became dissatisfied. So they began to dig into the hill. Perhaps, they said to themselves, we will discover something.

And they did.

They discovered shiny stones. The families found the stones could be made into jewels and other beautiful things. Other people would trade for those jewels and beautiful things, Soon, many of the other families wanted to get their own shiny stones. They began to dig into the hill as well. Their village became known for its wealth.

A young girl asked her parents, “If we keep digging into the hill, what will our homes stand on?”

This made sense to her parents. Together they brought their concerns to the village council.

But the council members rejected these concerns. “You are wrong. There are only a few tunnels. The foundations of the hill are very strong. Besides, our village is thriving, and we are very smart. If there is a problem eventually, we can fix it with our cleverness.”

So many of the families continued to dig furiously, looking for the shiny stones. Then, in their digging, the villagers also found black rocks that would, when lit in a special way, burn hot for a long time. The villagers found many purposes for the fire’s heat. People from other villages wanted those rocks as well and would trade for them. The wealth of the village on the hill increased further.

The young girl told her parents, “I can now walk through tunnels from one side of the hill all the way to the other side. I’m very worried.”

Her family warned the village council again. The council retorted, “Don’t you want our village to prosper? You are jealous because you have not worked hard like us and dug your own tunnels. Our god gave us this hill to use. Our god is in control of everything. We have no reason to worry. You cannot tell us what to do.”

Digging intensified.

By now the the hill was honeycombed with tunnels. Villagers frequently ran into other families’ tunnels as they dug their own. Several homes suddenly collapsed into the ground. People and animals died. The spring no longer flowed from the side of the hill. It oozed muddy and dark through one of the tunnels.

The girl and her family were now in despair. They and a few other families appealed desperately to the council to stop the digging. “We have enough. Your digging is destroying our hill. We are destroying our home. You must stop.”

The families on the council who had dug the most and now had big homes made of stone angrily retorted. “You are lazy doubters. Digging under the hill has made our village strong and wealthy. People from all around envy us. Our lives are easy. And our god has promised that this hill would always be ours. Your faith is weak. Our god would not let something bad happen to us.”

So the girl and her family left the village, their eyes wet with tears.

A number of years later, the family was living in a home built of wood in a place where a forest and a meadow met. Fish danced and darted in the nearby stream.

During a time of famine, the family met a gaunt widow, her two sons, and their frail dog on the nearby road. The family took them in. After feeding the poor people and their dog, the daughter, who was now a young woman, asked the widow about her life.

While relating her sad fate, the widow mentioned that in their travels they had passed by the village on the hill. Her hosts eagerly asked for news of the village.

She shared that much of their village had now sunk into holes in the hill. Only a few large stone homes remained, protected by guards above and below ground. The people in the homes refused to give even a morsel of food to the mother, her children, and their dog.

The fate of the village mystified the poor widow.

Why could the villagers not see what they were doing? Why had the people not been content with their lives and the beauty around them? Did their god really want them to do what they had done to the hill?

The half-asleep widow looked around at the simple, comfortable home. She smiled as she saw her sons sleeping contentedly. She stroked the fur of the dog who lay at her feet and who had eaten so heartily of the food given to him.

And she asked the family, “Kind people, who is your god?”

permalink