Every once in a while we hear a sentence or phrase, which, though strange sounding, we know deep down to be something profound and true.

A few months ago I heard Christian artist, Makoto Fujimura, make the comment, “God is a slow God.”

Suddenly I realized that so much of God’s work through ancient Israel, through the Church, and in my own life unfolds at a pace I find lugubrious and far too drawn out. This was the case in learning Greek and Hebrew, learning Syriac, and also in learning patience. Whatever I’m pursuing at any given moment, I want results now.

Of course, I am not alone. It could be safely said that most of us want things done faster: That’s why we have frozen waffles that pop right up in the toaster, microwave meals, and hunger for faster internet. The list goes on.

And yet the grander and more important things cannot be rushed. Pregnancy, for example, is drawn out for nine months of watching, feeling movements and then waiting. Then, when the baby is finally born, she (or he) is not like a newborn colt: “Get up! Let’s straighten out those legs.” No, that little one is dependent for years and years. She will have to learn to sit, to crawl, and of course, to learn not to scream and cry when she doesn’t get her way. “I want my Cheerios NOW!”

God is present in every circumstance and cares about us more than we can imagine. Because he loves us so much, he does not allow us to reduce him to being like a vending machine. No, God is a patient and trusting father, forming us to be like him with great patience, courage, mercy, kindness, and love. All of these make for a slow road of formation of our souls, not the quick fix for immediate satisfaction.

The first article I ever had published was written for my Christian Education class taught by Dr. Dan Jessen.[1] I looked at every word in the original languages of the Bible for “teach” and “learn” (Greek and Hebrew: didasko, paideia, manthano, yarah, lamad, etc.). At that time there was no internet or electronic way of searching so I used a Greek and Hebrew Concordance. It took an entire semester to look up every use of “teach” and “learn” in the Bible, but I came to a wonderful conclusion that still guides me today.

That is, that all teaching and learning as part of our formation or sanctification is also “training for eternity” (thus the title of the article I wrote, “Paideia tou Aionou”). When we think of God moving too slowly for us, we need to remember that this life is preparation for eternity. If we would learn to love, it is to learn to love all people at all times for all eternity. There will be people, relationships, and communications in heaven, and all in the glorious presence of the Trinity.

This is a good perspective as we teach ourselves patience, as we work with our children, and as we preach to and disciple our parishioners. God’s working feels slow measured against our need for immediate satisfaction and gratification. But in our training for eternity, God’s pace shows itself in ongoing, unrelenting, and gentle formation.

If you have the time, do a search for the many verses in the Bible that speak of patience. One of my favorites, which is really beautiful, is from Genesis 29:20: “So Jacob served seven years to get Rachel, but they seemed like only a few days to him because of his love for her” (NIV).

Lord, increase our love for you so we will learn patience, and learn to move at your pace in your precious timing, and to be fully satisfied and at peace. Amen.

[1] Paideia tou Aionou: A Prolegomenon to a Theology of Christian Education,” in Christian Education Journal, Vol. VII, #2, Winter 1987, pp. 59-74

Dr. Scott W. Sunquist, president of Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, is author of the “Attentiveness” blog. He welcomes comments, responses, and good ideas.