She’d
listen to his reasons for wanting to write, and then she’d say – “Son – you should forget that. You should be a brain surgeon. You’ll make a
lot of money. You’ll stop a lot of people from dying”.
This
went on and on. Every time he came home from college he got the same things: “Chaim - You should be a brain surgeon.
You’ll make a lot of money. You’ll stop a lot of people from dying”.
As
the years progressed, the exchanges became more and more tense until one day
Potok exploded at her when she trotted out her usual line: “Mama, I don’t want to keep people from dying! I want to show them how
to live!”.
I want to show
them how to live.
I
wonder if part of the reason we turn up here, Sunday by Sunday, many of us, is
because deep down, we all want to learn how to live.
Nobody
hands you that script when you’re born. You take on board what you can from
family and culture and that can take you a good long way in life. All the way
from the cradle to the grave, if you like.
But
if you slow the pace enough to listen to your own heart, you’ll hear a voice
telling you that there’s more to discover. That whatever your abilities or
achievements in life, your real work is in learning to live well and wisely
with yourself, the people around you and your God. Deep down, that’s what our
hearts are really longing for.
God
has made us for himself, said St Augustine, and our hearts are restless til
they find their rest in him.
This
story we’re about to embark on is a record of men and women through the ages
who tried and failed and tried again to find their rest in God. They’re separated
from us in time and space and culture, but don’t let that fool you. In many
ways they were just like us – they had families, homes and responsibilities.
They loved, they quarrelled, they dreamed, they worried, they wondered. As we
travel with them, we’re going to see ourselves reflected in their actions time
and time again.
But
more than that, we’ll realise that the God they dealt with, and who we see
through the lens of their understanding, is the same God that we deal with. The
God whose story is still unfolding all around us in the everyday detail of your
life and mine. The God whose purposes for the world are helped or hindered by the
choices we make about how we are going to live.
Right
at the beginning I want to make it clear that this is not a history lesson! This
is here and this is now. God’s story is ongoing – and you and I have a part to
play in it.
But
I’m getting ahead of myself here. Let’s
begin at the beginning.
But
where is the beginning? Where do we start? Well – we could go right back to
Genesis 1:1 which says “In the beginning, God…..”. But somebody, somewhere, had
to write those words down. And where did those words come from anyway?
According to Genesis 1 there were no eyewitnesses to the creation other than
the angels!
The
scholars reckon that the Bible actually begins with the events of the Exodus.
It was the Exodus from Egypt which formed the nation of Israel. God led them
from slavery into freedom, as we’ll see in a few weeks’ time, and it was that
nation – once formed - which put down its ancient stories and customs and laws
in writing in what we now know as the Old Testament.
You
can imagine them, sitting round campfires in the evenings, and the children
looking up at the stars and saying to the elders – ‘how did all of this get
here?’. And the elders would pass on the
story as they themselves had received it. “In the beginning” they’d say - God
created the heavens and the earth”.
And
the beauty of how they told the story isn’t in its scientific precision. They
don’t know anything about Higgs Fields or Quarks or antimatter or big bangs, although
the story’s open enough to accommodate all of those elements should we wish to.
When
modern folk criticise Genesis for not being a science book, they miss the point.
It was never meant to be that. Who would have understood it if it were!?
No
- the beauty of the story’s in its understanding of the human condition and the
divine initiative – our love of beauty, our need for companionship, our desire
to know more and have more, the estrangement from God that breeds a kind of
homesickness within us. An emptiness we try to fill in all kinds of ways.
And
throughout it all, the shining thread that’s woven through the entire story
from Genesis to Revelation- God’s desire to be with us. It’s the most frequent
promise in the whole of the Bible – I will be with you.
It
would be easy to go into the scientific arguments with you today and mount a
defence against the sceptics who write faith off on the basis of these early
chapters of Genesis, and I’ve done that before.
But
the more I think about it, the more I think those sceptics are missing the
point anyway. The point of Rabbie Burns saying his love is like a red red rose
isn’t to suggest that she’s got petals and thorns and lives at the bottom of
his garden. Curse your scientific imprecision, Rabbie! No - he’s telling us how
he feels about her.
The
creation story is telling us how God feels about us.
How
do you feel about the things that you create? Some of you bake cakes or cook
meals; some compose words or music, or images. Some of you can fashion things
with your hands; many of you have carried new life within yourselves, or helped
to nurture that life when it was pushed out into the world.
When
we create something we’re bound to it, for good or ill. We watch eagerly as the
guest bites the cake, or listens to the poem, or tours the house that we’ve
built. We care. At a much deeper level,
we care about the child we’ve brought into the world, or raised within our
family. We want nothing for the best for them and it breaks our hearts when
things don’t go as planned.
Genesis
tells us that in God’s eyes, humanity is the pinnacle of his creation.
Supernovas, parakeets and blue whales are something else; a good day at the
office. But only human beings are made in God’s image.
We’ve
been given the gift of consciousness to a degree that nothing else in our
universe possesses – at least to the best of our knowledge. And God gave us
that gift because he wanted the companionship of creatures who could know and
love him of their own free will, and find their fulfilment and joy in being
with him.
And
over the millennia of human existence, nothing has changed. That’s still the
plan. That’s still what God wants for you and for me – for us to be together.
And
though the apple changed everything, in some senses it changed nothing. Sin
gets in the way, it spoils the plan, it grieves God’s heart but it doesn’t
change his intent one iota.
And
that’s a key thing to grasp right at the start of this journey. As we read the
Bible there are really two stories we’re reading – the lower story of humanity
with all its twists and turns and triumphs and disasters. Things happen in this
story which break God’s heart and which he never intended to happen. But above
and beyond that story is the Upper Story of God’s overarching plan for
humanity, which might get deviated at times, but will never be derailed.
Within
a few short verses of Genesis 1:1, the Lower Story becomes a mess. Paradise is
lost. Adam and Eve go their own way rather than God’s, and story of their sons
Cain and Abel teaches that the problem of sin, which is basically the problem
of putting yourself where God should be, now affects every one of us. No apple
required.
And
the story of Noah shows us that even if God were to start all over again with
one righteous man and his family, it wouldn’t be long before things were back
in a mess again. When we tell that story we always end up with the rainbow and
the animals coming out two by two. But read on in Genesis and you’ll discover
that Noah’s story does not have a happy ending. It ends in disgrace for him and
his family.
We
learn that if there’s going to be a solution to this problem, it’s not going to
come through us – no matter how good we might be. Ctrl Alt Delete doesn’t
successfully reboot the system. We need a saviour to do for us what we can’t do
for ourselves.
But
that’s a story for another day.
For
now, let me leave you with an image to take away from this time together –
it's Michaelangelo’s Creation of Adam which is painted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
What I especially want you to notice is
the intent on God’s part. Look how he's leaning in; straining to bring Adam to life.
Note
also that I’ve left Adam out of the picture – and that's a deliberate choice.
The thought
I want to leave you with today is that God, with the same intent, is reaching
out to you and me today to bring us into life and fellowship with him.
He
wants to be with us – that’s what this Story has always been about.
