My adventurous wife gave the boys a Christmas gift in 2020 they will never forget. When it was delivered and unloaded in our backyard, the trucker asked me casually, “So, are you doing some sodding work in the backyard?” And I casually answered him, “No, this was our Christmas gift to my boys!” With an elongated mouth stretch that I haven’t seen since Ace Ventura in 1994, he exclaimed: “You bought your children dirt for Christmas?!” So, then I took the next 30 minutes to give him a theology of dirt starting in Genesis and leading to the dirt of the New Creation. And then, I signed an autograph of my Jonah commentary with a note, “Find land, son!”
Everything is true, except the latter part. There wasn’t much time to elaborate on the claim that dirt theology is essential to a healthy biblical theology. But still, the whole thing rings true. Man, made from dirt, shall return to dirt. And such dirt will be reconstituted to used gloriously in the New Heavens and Earth. Dirt is good. Man as a symbolic human exerts a dirt-like function in the world. He offers himself as that which can be used as the environment for growth and nurture.
It’s safe to say there hasn’t been a more creative $200 spent in our household. In the two years we have had the dirt mound, the thing has been excavated, used as mud pies, used as a hiding place, functioned as the headquarters for sword fights, and more. And, it’s not merely a manly thing. We had about 20 in our house yesterday for Lord’s Day dinner and several little girls enjoyed treating the mound place like a little garden and exploration site. I probably should have told them that the Garden was on a mountain. But I am not sure they were ready for such theologizing. The whole thing was comical and fun to behold.
I also find the entire endeavor something of a paradigm to consider. In an age of insiders, be an outsider. Play with dirt. Amuse yourself to death, which incidentally is a place of dirt. Man is primarily a ground creature made to dwell among creatures. The more grounded he is, the more satisfied he is with his accomplishments and calling. He names animals in the Garden as a sign that he rules over dirt and where animals trod.
Dirt is the stuff of life. It’s where little men begin to mold civilization and create new plans to destroy darkness. It’s the hill they live and die on, and it’s the headquarters for strategic Christianizing. While some may say, “it’s just dirt,” we say, “the dirt is just!” Kingdoms begin here, especially when they are ruled by little covenant princes.
