Moles in the Church

Moles have adapted to the darkness of life underground. It's a metamorphosis to which we, too, are accustomed. God has something far more transformational in mind.

Somewhere in the soupy wetlands of the North American Piedmont, one of God's strangest creatures - the star-nosed mole - is burrowing deeper into his soggy world. With out-turned claws, he forages the earth for breakfast: a tasty grub perhaps, or a creamy caterpillar larva. Equipped with minuscule eyes, hopelessly weak ears and an inefficient smeller, this hairy little varmint with the body of a chubby rat has little chance of feeding itself - much less thriving - in the dark, underground tunnels of God's earth.

Question: How is it that a blind, deaf, olfactory-challenged creature can navigate in the subterranean darkness - and even thrive there?

Answer: The Creator has made a stunning provision for its survival. The star-nosed mole has a face that only the Creator and nature-loving philosopher Annie Dillard could love. Where most rodents sport a rather ordinary nose, the star-nosed mole sports eleven pairs of pink, fleshy projections encircling a large snout. This "nose" fails...