Have you ever wondered what a piece of land wants to become?

In the New Testament, the Greek writers use a rich word over fifty times to describe ultimate purpose: telos. It is a tricky word to translate into English. It means “fulfillment,” “completion” or even “destiny.” The ancient philosopher Aristotle famously explained it this way: the telos of an acorn is an oak tree. It isn’t just about how things end up; it is about the inner purpose God has woven into the thread of creation from the beginning.

Telos helps us understand where we, the church and all of creation are heading. But it also changes how we look at the very dirt beneath our feet.

Every plot of land carries a holy longing. Given enough time, grace, and freedom from a lawnmower, the soil desires to produce a specific, harmonious ecosystem.

Take a typical five-acre church yard. Left to itself for a century or two, it would turn into a chaotic mess and then slowly weave itself back into a dynamic balance. Centuries ago, that yard might have been a shaded oak hammock, a tallgrass prairie or a dense hardwood forest. We might not know every historical detail, but we can be certain of this: The land has a telos. Right now, right where it sits, God’s creation holds an inclination toward wholeness.

Of course, our human history gets messy. Developers bring in dump trucks of fill dirt, scrape away topsoil and alter the ground. One city lot might have a completely different soil story than the lot right next door.

In many ways, our land reflects our human hearts. We live in a fast-paced, ungrounded culture. Many of us feel disconnected from where we live, surrounded by neighbors who are also trying to find their footing on unique, disrupted ground. When we don’t know how to root ourselves in a place, we build lives and structures that ignore the ground beneath us altogether.

This is why gathering together as a church community to tend the earth is such a quiet act of redemption. When we garden, restore and care for a place together, we share common ground. We learn the stories of the soil, we watch seeds rise and we share the harvest at the table. God’s Word invites us into a deeper grounding, a commitment to step into the land’s telos and become a participating part of it. Gardening together is an Anabaptist practice for our time, connecting us in community both with each other and the land.

An Advent Waiting

As we approach the season of Advent, this idea of telos takes on a beautiful light.

Advent is a season of holy waiting. We sit in the quiet darkness of winter, longing for the Light of the World to reveal himself. We wait for the restoration of all things across the whole groaning creation.

Underneath the frozen turf or the tired winter lawn, the land is participating in that very same Advent wait. There is a blueprint of the Creator waiting to be realized; either this year or in coming centuries.

You don’t have to wait a hundred years to see this unfolding story. Even now, the land is sending out signals:

1. Uncover your land’s original story: Take some time this week to research what ecosystem originally flourished in your neighborhood. Was your home built on a native pine savanna, a wetlands marsh or a deep woodland? Knowing what was once there helps us pray for and care for what could be.
2. Look for the hidden “weeds”: Walk your church property or your own backyard with attentive Advent eyes. Look closely at the small green shoots breaking through the cracks or pushing up along the fence lines. Many of the stubborn plants we dismiss as weeds are actually native survivalists — seeds of the land’s original telos waiting in the soil for generations, refusing to give up on their God-given purpose.

As we prepare our hearts for Christ’s coming, let’s also practice opening our eyes to the hidden kingdom taking root underfoot. The land is waiting for its fulfillment. We are invited to be at home there and join in the waiting.