Holding the fifth day of Creation in my hand

Some 10 years ago I visited a longtime friend living in Traverse City, Michigan. One day we went to the beach, and at the water's edge he picked up a stone, studied it a moment, and handed it to me. Matter-of-factly, he asked me, "Would you like a fossil?" (Evidently there are many such stones where he lives.)

I found the fossil fascinating, and I brought it home. I showed it off to a few select people and eventually placed it unceremoniously on a downstairs shelf. For years it just sat there, pretty much forgotten.

Then I had an inspired idea. Wondering what AI might have to say about my fossil, I took a photo of it and asked for information. I was promptly informed that my fossil was a Petoskey stone - fossilized coral colony heads of a sea life called hexagonaria percarinata that lived 350–400 million years ago during the Devonian Epoch.

What a world of difference a fossil's name made to this fossil owner - even if it's a phylogenetic name that I can barely pronounce. And what a difference it makes knowing the age of my fossil, even if I may be off 20 or 30 million years! What do I care, my fossil is from an epoch that predates the dinosaurs and that thought gives me goosebumps.

But there is much more to this fossil story than my occasional goosebumps. Starting with the Genesis story, traditional Jewish chronology points to the 25th of Elul as the first day of Creation, making the 29th the fifth day - the day when the creatures of the sea first emerged.

And the 29th of Elul will soon be upon us (Friday, Sept. 11).

For me, the 29th of Elul has become a kind of anniversary of those tiny sea creatures whose remains eventually became the fossil I now possess. In that vein, when I hold the fossil in my hand it gives me greater reason for pause. I find myself thinking more and more about the Creator and Sustainer who made it all happen.

I think about how the living God watched over the life that once was back then and the life that is now. That is a sobering thought if you choose to believe as I do that the intimate God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob is also the God of all yesterdays and all tomorrows.

There is a well-known analogy in discussions of faith. Finding an ordinary rock tells us very little. But finding a pocket watch tells us there must have been a watchmaker.

A decade ago, I came upon what first appeared to be just an ordinary rock, only it turned out to be anything but ordinary! It was a rock fossil - a trace of life long gone that makes me feel more here now. And when I gaze upon this fossil and hold it in my hand, it becomes a kind of mystical compass that points in all directions. It reads: "Ribbono shel Olam" (Master of the Universe).