Genesis 3

A native American story teller used to begin his tribes creation story with the following words:  "I don’t know if it happened exactly like this, but I know this story is true."

There is great wisdom expressed in that line. It reminds us that for something to be true, doesn’t mean that it is historically true. Jesus told parables: A man was on a journey from Jerusalem to Jericho. On the way he was attacked by robbers and left for dead. A variety of religious leaders walked by on the other side of the road. A Samaritan stopped and took care of him.

In that parable, Jesus is teachings us certain truths about the nature of what it means to love one’s neighbour as oneself. But it is a fictional story. The truth of the story does not depend on the story being historically true. It is a reminder that truth is something bigger than fact.

When it comes to the story of Adam and Eve, like the story of Noah and the Ark that we looked at last week, it is possible to read the story in different ways.

One way is to read the story as a record of history, as literal historical facts about the creation and fall of the very first human beings.

But just like the Noah Story, we are soon confronted by some uncomfortable questions:

• If the Adam and Eve story is historically true, who did Cain and Abel marry? Did they have to marry their sisters? Would that not have been incest, which is later out-lawed in Leviticus?
• How did the snake talk to Eve? It takes a very particular kind of mouth and tongue that enables us to talk and pronounces words and sounds.
• Where is the garden of Eden today? Why can we not literally find the Garden of Eden somewhere on the earth that and angel is literally guarding with flaming swords so that we are unable to enter?

Another way to read it is to approach it as an ancient parable, designed to convey a different kind of truth. And so we might say like that native American story teller, “I don't know if it happened exactly like this, but I know this story is true." In other words, I know that there are truths within this story if we are willing to listen.

What then might some of the truths be that the story is seeking to communicate to us. In exploring this question, I rely on some of the interpretation given by the Rev. Alan Storey, who does a quite masterful job of exploring the depth of this ancient parable.

1) The first thing that the parable seeks to communicate to us is the sense of the generosity of God the Divine. The story begins with God providing abundantly for Adam and Eve.

And when we look at the world, we see that it is true. This world is filled with such abundance and variety. Everything that we need for a contented and happy human existence has been provided for us. The variety and abundance of the natural world is astounding.

The parable underlines the sense that God has generously provided by the richness and diversity of this beautiful world we live in.

In the little parable, God says: this whole garden is yours to enjoy, but just don’t eat of that one tree in the middle of the garden. We’ll come back to the tree in a moment.

2). Secondly, in this story, we encounter a snake that speaks.

Have you ever heard a snake talk? Well I guess probably not, because Holy St Patrick drove all the snakes out of Ireland! Anyway, for those who have seen a snake, live and in person, you will know that snakes don’t talk. Alan Storey, says, we may all be able to agree that snakes don’t talk, but that doesn mean that we don’t hear them speak.

His gives a few examples:

When he gets to a traffic light in a car, and a big 4X4 SUV pulls up next to him and he can hear it sort of rumbling and grunting, we know that motor cars don’t talk, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t hear them speak. And so when he sees that 4X4 SUV and he hears the rumbling of the engine, it begins to speak to him. And do you know what it says: “If you get yourself inside behind the wheel of this car, you will feel like a real man.”

I think it is true that different cars speak to different people. Maybe a 4X4 doesn’t speak to you. Maybe it is the latest Audi or BMW... if you sit behind this wheel, then you will have arrived.

Or perhaps when you are driving past a particular housing estate or a particular house that you have seen for sale. We know that bricks and mortar don’t talk, but if we are all honest, we have all heard them speaking to us at one time of another.... if you could just move into this house, then you will be truly happy. Houses don’t talk, but we hear them speak.

Or perhaps a pair of shoes... shoes don’t talk, but we hear them speak. Have you heard a pair of shoes speaking to you before?

Snakes don’t talk, but they do speak.

And in this ancient Jewish wisdom story, this parable, the snake speaks with all sorts of enticing promises. It is the voice of discontentment with the abundance we have received. The voice that makes us forget God’s abundant provision. The voice that begins to say: “Brian... if only you had that thing over there, then, Ah, then, you would be truly happy”.

We all know that snakes don’t talk, but we hear them speak. The snake in this story is true, it is anything and everything in life that makes us doubt the loving abundance of God.

Instead of finding happiness in the Divine gift of life that has been abundantly given, we begin to look for happiness in the wrong places. The snake tempts us to find happiness in things that are never able to fulfill our truest and deepest longings. Only God can do that. As St Augustine famously said, “O God you have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until we find our rest in you.” Or as Pascal famously said, “There is a God-shaped hole in every human heart, that only God can fill.

3) Thirdly, This little ancient parable teaches us the truth that freedom is the air that love breathes.

Love, by definition must have the freedom not to love. The air that love breathes is freedom. If you remove oxygen from the air that you breathe, you will soon suffocate and die. If you remove freedom from love, then love too will soon suffocate and die.

Love is not something that can be forced. That is why controlling and manipulative relationships are so destructive. Love can never be forced. That is why abuse of various kinds is so destructive. Abuse robs another of their freedom. As soon as you rob another of their freedom, love begins to die.

Thich Nhat Hahn, the Vietnamese Zen monk writes that if we want our love to grow, we need to ask our beloved: “Is there space around your heart” In other words, do you have the freedom to be yourself.

Alan Storey believes that God has made us in love, by love, and for love. But for love to truly be love, it has to be free. Free to choose.

And that is one possible significance of the mythical tree of good and evil in the centre of the Garden. We read the story and wonder why God placed temptation in the way of Adam and Eve. Why did God make the snake in the first place. If God had not put the tree there, perhaps it all would not have gone wrong.

But if God had never made the snake to speak to us, and if God had never placed the forbidden fruit in front of us, we would never have had the opportunity to to truly love.

We might ask the question, why did God make us with freedom, and the ability to make really stupid and sometimes destructive decisions in life.

But if we were made with no freedom, we would all be robots with no capacity to truly love.

And so from this perspective, the perspective of love, the forbidden tree in the middle of the garden is a necessary part of life, because it creates the freedom to choose. And without that freedom to choose, there can be no real love, only pre-programmed robots.

When God created us with freedom, to love or not o love, Alan Storey suggests that God took an incredible risk. In fact, he says that love is spelled R.I.S.K. Whenever we love, we take a risk. You cannot have love without it. It is a risk, because when we start loving we feel vulnerable.

And so, May we cherish the abundance with which God has made this beautiful world. Truly, we live in the Garden of Eden, if we had the eyes to see. Secondly, may we become more aware the snakes that speak to us.... enticing us to find happiness where true happiness can never be found. And lastly, when we despair at the destructiveness of humanity, may we remember that freedom is a necessary gift, for without it there would be no real possibility to love. May we honour the freedom of our loved one’s, and may we always make sure that they have space around their hearts. And lastly, like God, may we be willing to make ourselves vulnerable, and be willing to take the risk of loving others. Amen.

Genesis 6:1-22 & Genesis 9:9-17

There are a number of ways of reading the story of Noah and the Flood. Today I would like to reflect on two possibilities.

One way is to read it as a literal historical account. When one does so, then all sorts of questions follow:

• Today we know of million of species. How did Noah fit all those animals into the ark? Even if one were to use a modern day cruise-liner, it would seem like a logistical impossibility.
• How would science explain a flood that covered every land mass on earth with water up to the highest mountain peaks. Scientifically speaking it is sounds like an impossible story.
• Perhaps the most important question of all... Is God really like that? Did God, in a flash-flood of anger, really wipe out the whole population of the earth. Is God really like that? If, as we learn from Jesus, God is essentially love, then how does a loving God in a moment of calculated anger wipe out the entire inhabited world. Is this a God you can trust? Because if truth be told, we all have our weaknesses and faults. None of us is without our problems and without our sins. Are any of us safe in the hands of such a ruthless and angry God?

Rev. Alan Storey says the following about this story:

“I am troubled by this story of the universal flood. I’m troubled by what it seems to suggest on the surface about the nature and character of God. I’m troubled by the horror of the text. The horror that is not recorded. The drowning. The screaming. The gasping. The fleeing to higher ground, but to no avail. The climbing of trees to higher branches but to no avail. The final embraces. The words of love. The letting go of children. The unanswered prayers. If it were a movie, it would be a horror movie. Age restricted and rightly so. The destruction of all of humanity? The destruction of creatures? Beautiful and innocent? The wickedness and violence of humanity seems to be answered with an even greater wickedness and violence from God, suggesting that there is no problem too big that violence cannot solve. This sounds like Terminator 3."

Isn't it interesting that probably the most popular image that is used on a children’s Bible is the image of Noah and the Ark.

And yet, Wendy shared with me that as a child, growing up with this story she found it quite traumatising. What if she were one of those who God chose to wipe out in a flood. What about all those innocent animals that were made to suffer for the sins of human beings?

Reading this story as a literal history raises an enormous amount of questions...

There is a second possible way to read this story is to read it as an example of ancient Jewish mythology, as a way of explaining and making sense of a world that especially for ancient people, must have often seemed unpredictable and chaotic.

Rob Bell puts it like this....

Imagine you had no pictures of earth from outer space, no weather reports, no Google images, no airplanes – imagine if you’d never been a few miles from where you were born. And then imagine a flash flood – massive, undulating, swirling, terrifying water – coming at you out of nowhere and wiping away your house and crops and animals and family members. Imagine how devastating that would be to your psyche.

You would do what people do whenever they suffer – you’d look for causes... an explanation. And in the ancient world, it was generally agreed upon that the forces that caused this were the gods who had had it up to here with humans and all their backstabbing, and depraved ways and had decided to unleash their wrath.

That’s how people saw the world. That’s how they explained floods.

What is probably of particular interest is that cultures all around the world have folk tales within their sacred mythologies of flood stories. Often the stories involve one or two people who are saved, and who have to begin all over again. Often, but not always, they involve a deity wanting to punish humanity for their misdeeds.

When the world seems like an unpredictable place with forces much greater than yourself, these forces become personified as the gods, or the ancestors, or as signs that the gods, the ancestors or the Supreme Being is sending a punishment. What other explanations were there for primitive, ancient people who had no other knowledge of the weather.

When read in this light, the story in Genesis 6-9 stands for us as an example of an ancient Jewish myth attributing the destructive forces of a great flood to the punishing will and actions of the Divine Being.

Is that the end of the story for us? Is there no further or deeper meaning that can be found in this story?

Some interpreters have suggested that while in many ways, this story needs to be regarded as part of a primitive ancient Jewish mythology, there is also something quite remarkable about this particular Flood Story. There are rays of light that shine through this ancient primitive myth that are worthy of our reflection today, thousands of years later.

What is perhaps particularly interesting in this Jewish version of the ancient Flood story is that we have an unexpected ending to the story... The God-figure does a strange thing. The God-figure in the story expresses regret over what has happened. Isn’t that an interesting twist in the tale. In most ancient mythologies the gods were not portrayed as really caring very much about human beings. But in this version of the story, this God-figure has a change of heart.

Part of the punchline of this ancient Jewish rendition of the flood mythology is that God forsakes what has been called the myth of redemptive violence. The myth of redemptive violence is the belief that somehow peace can be achieved in this through violence, through wiping out one’s enemies and the undesirables of this world by brute force.

At the beginning of this story the God-figure seems to be a believer in the myth of redemptive violence. If he can wipe out all the evil doers in this world with brute violence, with a divine act of mass genocide, only saving one righteous man and his family, then the problem of evil will be dealt with in this world, and things can go back to the original harmony that God had intended for this world.

But within just a few verses of the end of this story, it becomes apparent that the myth of redemptive violence is really just a myth, an illusion. It doesn’t work. Not even in the hands of an almighty God. No sooner has the flood receded and Noah and his family have begun to re-settle themselves and repopulate the earth, sin reappears and the whole downward cycle happens all over again.

Even though this ancient Jewish legend or myth is primitive and violent it carries with it a deep and a profound reflection on the nature of violence as a means to solve the problems of the world. How many of us, like the God-figure in this story haven’t at one time or another had the same desire: the desire to see the wicked of the earth wiped out with one final act of violence. But this ancient Jewish story conveys a profound message: the myth of redemptive violence doesn’t work, not even in the hands of an almighty God.

And so in this profound ancient and primitive story, the God-figure in the story regrets his actions. One can even say, God, repents. He turns his back on violence. Like an ancient warrior who has seen too much violence in his life-time, he hangs up his warrior's bow in sorrow. Some interpreters would say that that is the real significance of the rainbow in this story. It is taken as a symbol of God renouncing the way of violence, hanging up his warriors bow in the heaven’s as an eternal reminder that violence is not the answer.

And so by the end of the story, no longer does the God character believe that violence is the answer to the problems of this world. God must find another way.

And that brings us to the story of Jesus. In the story of Jesus, we find a new way to address the problems of this world. Not through redemptive violence. Put away your swords, Jesus says to Peter in the garden of Gethsemane when the Romans come to arrest him. Jesus seeks to express a different way of bringing peace on earth. Not by slaying his enemies with a sword or even a great flood, but rather breaking open their hearts in an act of supreme love and sacrifice. Instead of redemptive violence, Jesus invites us to become part of the story of redemptive love.

Genesis 1:1 – 2:3

As we stand at the beginning of 2020, the beginning of a new year and a new decade, what more appropriate way for us than by reflecting on the first chapter of the Bible that begins with the words: “In the beginning...”

Contrary to popular Christian opinion, most scholars would say that Genesis 1 is not a scientific paper giving a scientific explanation of the beginning of the universe. More appropriately, it could be considered to be a form of religious poetry that was designed to inspire those who first heard it.

The first indication that this is not a scientific exposition is that while darkness and light are created on day one, the sun moon and the stars are only created on the 4th day. Now we know that the measurement of time by days relies on the revolution of the earth around the sun, so the question remains, if the sun is only created on day four, how do we know how to count the first three days. As Rob Bell puts it: How do we know that the first three days are actually days. Most scientists would agree also that there is no vault or dome separating waters above the sky from those below. This is clearly not a scientific explanation of creation.

What then are the signs that Genesis chapter 1 is better categorised as a piece of poetry rather than a scientific exposition. The clearest sign is to be found in the rhythm’s of language created by repetitions and patterns.

The most obvious repetition is the phrases “Let there be...”

-Let there be light...

-Let there be a vault between the waters...

-Let there be water under the sky...

Another obvious repetition is the phrase:

• “And there was evening, and there was morning, the first day...”
• “And there was evening, and there was morning, the second...”

A further repetition is the phrase comes at the end of each day of creation as we hear these words: “And God saw that it was good...And God saw that it was good...”

But the repetitions and patterns are also more subtle than these...

The whole poem is set around the theme or the structure of seven days. For religious Jews, seven was the number of completeness and wholeness.

But what is interesting is that the number seven appears in multiple patterns throughout the poem:

• the phrases "and it was so" occurs 7 times.
  
  
• the phrase "God saw that it was good" occur 7 times.
• The very first sentence of the poem, interestingly, consists of seven Hebrew words,
• The second sentence of the poem consists of of fourteen Hebrew words which equals two lots of sevens.
• The word ‘earth’ appears 21 times: 7x3
• The word ‘heaven/firmament’ occurs 21 times: again 7x3
• The word Elohim, is the Hebrew name for God in this passage is mentioned 35 times, which equals 7x5.

And so there are sevens and patterns of seven all throughout this poem.


In addition, there are also a number of patterns of 10.

• The phrase ‘to make’ occurs 10 times
  
  
• The phrase ‘according to their kinds’ occurs 10 times
• The phrase ‘and God said’ occurs 10 times: 3 times in relation to people, 7 times in relation to other creatures.
• And the phrase ‘let there be’ occurs 10 times: 3 times for things in heaven and 7 times for things on earth.

As Rob Bell says: You begin to think that the writer had help.


But what does it all mean? That is the question that remains:

To understand meaning, it is always important to know the context. Who were these words first spoken to? And what might they have meant to them?

By examining the language of the poem, scholars suggest that it was written during the Jewish exile in Babylon.

The Babylonian army had invaded Palestine in about 587 BC and the majority of the population was marched off to Babylon. The Jewish people lost almost everything: their Temple, their land, their homes, for many of them, their family members who were left behind. Psalm 137 gives us an indication of what impact this had on them: “By the rivers of Babylon, we wept!”

Everything that was stable in their life was taken from them. Everything that was familiar. Everything that brought stability and order was gone. The Jewish exiles must have felt like life was out of control, like they were living on the edge of the abyss, living in the midst of chaos... like a darkness had come over them as a people.

And into this context of chaos, an inspired preacher or spiritual writer speaks these words:

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth, Now the earth was formless and empty. Darkness was over the face of the abyss, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters of chaos.”

The phrase "formless and void" or “formless and empty” used in verse 1 is a translation of the Hebrew tohu wa-bohu. Tohu means "emptiness, futility"; it is used to describe the desert wilderness – unable to sustain human life. Wa-bohu has no particular meaning but seems to have been used to rhyme with tohu suggesting a lingering or an ongoing emptiness, futility and meaninglessness.

And so firstly, for a people who felt like they were living in darkness and chaos, whose lives in exile felt empty, futile and meaningless, this inspired religious poem in Genesis 1 reminded them that over the chaos and the darkness of their lives, the creative spirit of Elohim was hovering. Darkness and chaos are not the last words in life, because over the darkness and chaos hovers One who can bring forth new patterns of life and beauty. Hovering over their lives of darkness and chaos was a presence that created out of chaos in the very beginning, and who could bring something new out of the chaos and darkness of their lives once again.

This whole world is shot through with subtle order and patterns. When frost begins to set in over night, the deeper the frost sets in, the more the frozen water molecules begin to find order in beautiful and intricate patterns.

For anyone who has lived long enough in this world, it is very apparent that God does not save humanity from disasters that happen. This life is unpredictable. At times from our vantage point it can feel futile, empty, meaningless, dark and chaotic... but this poem reminds us that whenever we find ourselves in those dark and chaotic places, the creative, spirit of Elohim, is brooding and hovering, ready to bring forth new patterns, new meaning, and new creation in our lives.

Isn’t it interesting that while we normally speak of morning and evening, the poet who wrote this poem speaks of evening and morning. “And it was evening and it was morning, the first day.”

The day begins in darkness and proceeds to light. When our lives feel like they are in darkness, there is always the promise that light will come. As another Hebrew poet writes in Psalm 30:5 “Weeping may endure for a night, But joy comes in the morning.”

Secondly, in the context of exile in Babylon, the exiled Jews were treated with disdain and with contempt by their Babylonian captors. In Psalm 137 one gets a sense of how Jewish exiles in Babylon were taunted: While they are weeping at the rivers of Babylon we read that their captors taunted them saying: sing us one of your songs from Jerusalem. And they reply: How can we sing the songs of Jerusalem in a foreign land.

In exile, they were a people stripped of their dignity and taunted taunted. But in this inspired poem in Genesis chapter 1 they are reminded that in fact, they have been made in the image of Elohim, and if they have been made in the image of Elohim, then their lives have supreme meaning, value and worth. They have been made for nobility.

Thirdly, the poem ends, culminates, climaxes with Elohim, the great creative force behind the entire universe resting. It is part of a healthy rhythm of life. A meaningful life requires both action and rest. It requires both breathing in and breathing out. Evening and Morning in this poem provide the basic rhythm of working and resting. But in addition to the rhythm of evening and morning, for good measure, a seventh day is created as a Sabbath. A day of rest. In addition to a six day cycle of evening and morning, working and rest, a seventh day is added purely for rest. Interesting that over a seven day cycle there is more time given to rest then to work.

When you are in exile and life feels chaotic and formless, the tendency might be there to get into a pattern of work work work, trying to bring order out of the chaos by ourselves. But in this poem they are reminded that creative strength is renewed and restored through rest. Human dignity is not enhanced by working without a break. Human dignity and the human spirit is fed by making time for rest.

And so, at the beginning of 2020, may we be reminded of the creative spirit of Elohim hovering over the chaos and darkness of our lives, waiting to bring forth new patterns of life and meaning for us. May we be reminded that we and all people who walk this planet have an inherent dignity as children of God, made to reflect God’s image. And lastly, may we be reminded that a healthy and a meaningful life comes from breathing in and breathing out, from working and resting, and may we especially be reminded that at least once a week we all need a sabbatical, to find time to be restored and renewed.

Amen.

The picture below represents the Hebrew understanding of the world according to Genesis 1