Dear reader, if you’ve known me for very long, you will know that I am very much a creature of habit. I like to structure my life with very set schedules and familiar patterns. In that familiar pattern, Saturday is Laundry Day; the day when the beds are stripped, and the towels are taken from the bathrooms and the kitchen to be laundered and returned fresh for another week. As I started that process, I began to see theology in that laundry.
There are few mysteries in life as profound and perplexing as the disappearance of socks. You put two in the washer, you take one out of the dryer. It’s not higher mathematics, but somehow the numbers never quite add up. Somewhere in the great spinning cosmos of laundry, socks are vanishing — into a parallel universe, a sock-sized black hole, or perhaps a secret society meeting behind the dryer lint trap.
Now, before you accuse me of stretching theology past its breaking point, hear me out. These small, silly mysteries of daily life can point us to the bigger mysteries of God’s Kingdom.
The Already and the Not Yet of Laundry
Theologians often describe the Kingdom of God as “already and not yet.” Christ has come, salvation is here, the Kingdom is breaking in — already. But the fullness of God’s reign, where all things are made whole, is still ahead of us — not yet.
In the same way, laundry day is an exercise in eschatology. We already have the basket full of clean clothes — folded, fresh, almost complete. And yet… the missing sock remains. We live in that tension: the drawer is almost whole, but not entirely.
It’s the same with the Kingdom. We taste it now in acts of mercy, justice, forgiveness, and grace. But we also live in longing for the day when all that is lost — whether socks, loved ones, or fractured hopes — will be gathered up by God’s love.
The Great Sock Reunion
Jesus tells parables of lost sheep, lost coins, lost sons. Each time, the story ends with rejoicing when what was lost is found. If Christ cares for lost sheep and coins, who’s to say the joy of the Kingdom doesn’t include a reunion with that elusive argyle sock?
Of course, the point isn’t laundry — it’s love. The Gospel tells us that God notices, God seeks, God gathers, and nothing is too small or too lost to be redeemed. Even in our own lives, where relationships fray, dreams unravel, or faith feels threadbare, God is weaving all things together.
Folding the Kingdom into Daily Life
So what does the eschatology of lost socks teach us? That our daily, ordinary tasks — yes, even folding laundry — can remind us of holy hope. Each time we sort and match, we can remember that God is sorting and mending the world. Each time we sigh at a single sock, we can remember that what feels incomplete now will one day be made whole.
And perhaps, in the Kingdom of God, there will be no mismatched socks at all — just a holy laundry line, where everything is paired, perfect, and dancing in the breeze of God’s Spirit.
Until then, dear friends, may even your laundry point you to the joy of God’s Kingdom — already here, but not yet complete.
Prayer
Gracious God,
you gather what is scattered
and mend what is torn.
In the small frustrations of life—
even in the mystery of missing socks—
teach us to glimpse the greater mystery of your Kingdom.
When our lives feel incomplete,
remind us that you are weaving all things together.
When we are weary of searching,
assure us that nothing is ever lost to your love.
Give us patience in the “not yet,”
joy in the “already,”
and hope in the promise that all will be made whole
in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Amen.