In twelve steps we have walked through the first eleven chapters of the Hebrew Bible – which is also the Bible of Christians.

The first eleven chapters of the Book of Genesis is a kind of prelude to the history of God with God's people.

In story form – some call it "legends" or "sagas" or explanatory "myths" – it sets out some basic truths about humanity, about nature, and about our perception of God.

These, what I called basic truths, are an interpretation of life. It is a way in which biblical authors in different situations – like the exile in Babylon or the beginnings of the monarchy under Solomon and David – show how in their respective situation they experienced life and God in life.

As we come to this concluding meditation, the question is, of course, whether there is some continuity within the discontinuity of time and space. You see, we are so different to the biblical authors. Our time, our culture are so different to the time and culture from which these narratives come. Do they have to say anything to us who are so far removed by time and space? Are there some common motifs that are part of humanity at all times and in all places?

I don't want to present a summary of what we have heard and seen. The variety was too great for that. But I do want to recall some emphases that, given the distance of time and space, seem to have relevance for our living and dying.

The first thing that we have noticed again and again, that we always tend to forget and that therefore may be helpful to remember, is the clear distinction between creator and creature – and the ever present human attempts to blur that distinction.

God is creator. We are creatures.

We are created, not to be gods, not to be divine, but to be human. Our challenge is to understand and accept our humanity.

What does that mean?

In sovereign freedom, God has created us. We are not copies of God. We are human. We are different from God. By creating us, God has created something different to God

This difference marks our freedom, and it marks our dependence. Indeed our freedom and our dependence belong together. They are part of each other. They are inter-linked. We are free, really free, as we recognise and celebrate

that we can thank God, pray to God and worship God;

that we can love each other and enrich our lives, not by living with clenched fists, but by living with open arms, embracing each other;

and that we can breathe deeply of the air, drink from the water and eat from the fruit of the earth.

In that relational existence – to God, to each other and to nature – we discover who we are, we accept our freedom and dependence and thus we celebrate our humanity.

As far as God is concerned, this means a certain self limitation. Our language and our brains fail us to clearly spell this self-limitation out. It is so easy to reduce or limit the godhood of God.

But when we say that God created something, and that that something was not a copy of God but was different from God, then that difference implies a certain relative freedom on the part of the creature over against God, and a certain retraction or self-limitation on God's part.

Although we continue to need God as the well spring of life, not everything that happens to us is God's doing. The self-limitation that is part of God having created us, means that things happen which are not part of God's will. We can do things and we can mess things up – and we, not God, are responsible for it.

That brings us to the next point which featured heavily in these foundational narratives.

We were confronted with an avalanche of human arrogance, human pride, human unwillingness to accept their place as creature and constantly arrogating divinity to themselves.

Adam and Eve are given a beautiful garden and a million fruit trees to live comfortably – but they zero in to the one tree that marks the difference between the creature and the creator.

Cain is our human brother, not in that he respects his father and loves his brother, but in betraying his father and killing his brother.

Lamech continues the story of violence, and the builders of the tower of Babel continued the story of pride.

We are confronted here with what we have learned to call sin.

Sin is here understood, not in moral, but in theological categories. It is arrogance and pride, human rebellion against God that leads to a separation from God.

May I remind you of what is perhaps the best description of sin. It comes from the apostle Paul: "… whatever does not proceed from faith is sin" (Rom 14:23).

Faith is relationship with God and whatever hinders or disturbs or distorts that relationship is sin.

The result of sin is judgment.

Adam and Eve are driven out of the garden to live "east of Eden". They could no longer be trusted with the tree of life. Rather than acknowledging God and thanking God for its fruits, they were dismantling the difference between God and them.

Cain transgressed against the fundamental rules of life. Worshipping God and loving one's brother belong together. Cain is "cursed" to be "a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth".

And then "… the earth was corrupt … and the earth was filled with violence. And God saw that the earth was corrupt; for all flesh had corrupted its ways upon the earth. And God said to Noah, 'I have determined to make an end of all flesh, for the earth is filled with violence because of them; now I am going to destroy them along with the earth ….'" (Gen 6:11-13)

And building a tower to bridge the gap between humanity and God, between earth and heaven would have denied the very nature of reality that God is creator and that we are creatures and thus it led to the scattering of humanity all over the earth.

I have tried to understand God's judgment not as an intentional and wilful act of punishment on God's part. Rather, it is the expected outcome of a relationship in which one partner does not play fairly.

Two questions remain:

Why does God not do what was said? Adam and Eve were to die when they would eat of the forbidden tree. But they lived on! When the earth was filled with corruption and violence, God was going to make an end of all flesh. But Noah and his family found grace in the eyes of the Lord.

How can God remain God if the human race is so violent and rebellious and arrogant?

The answer is simple and profound.

Its simplicity is this: God remains God.

Its profundity is this: that love trumps law.

How do the stories convey those simple and profound truths?

Adam and Eve knew of the consequence of their action: Keep clear of "the tree of the knowledge of good and evil … for in the day that you eat of it you shall die." (Gen 2:17) Death was to be expected. But it came differently. They were allowed to live on.

Cain was upset when he realized that his murder effected God. "Cain said to the LORD, 'My punishment is greater than I can bear! … anyone who meets me may kill me.' Then the LORD said to him, 'Not so!' … And the LORD put a mark on Cain, so that no one who came upon him would kill him." (Gen 4:13-15)

And when after the great flood God "smelled the pleasing odor" of human repentance and thanksgiving, "the LORD said in his heart, 'I will never again curse the ground because of humankind, for the inclination of the human heart is evil from youth …'" and God put a rainbow in the sky and made a covenant of grace with all generations.

The prophet Hosea said it better than I can. How does God remain God? In that love trumps law. That may not be rational and logical but it is grounded in the being of God ("God is love").

How can I give you up, Ephraim?
How can I hand you over, O Israel? …
My heart recoils within me;
my compassion grows warm and tender.
I will not execute my fierce anger;
I will not again destroy Ephraim;
for I am God and no mortal,
the Holy One in your midst,
and I will not come in wrath.
(Hosea 11:8f.)

There is a certain volatility in the narratives. We have already noted the parallel presence of judgment and grace. And we note that grace breaks through in an irrational manner, even to alter divine predictions. But we are not quite sure, whether human sin or divine judgment dominates the scene.

This is intensified by the final narrative, the story of the city and the tower of Babel. It finished with the rather depressing statement of fact:

So the LORD scattered them abroad from there over the face of all the earth, and they left off building the city. Therefore it was called Babel, because there the LORD confused the language of all the earth; and from there the LORD scattered them abroad over the face of all the earth. (Gen 11:8f.).

There seems to be no hope left. God's patience with human rebellion seems to have run out.

But the story continues.

Following Adam and Eve and Cain and Lamech and the tower of Babel comes Abraham.

God picks a person from the human fold. His name is Abraham. Abraham believed in God and God will make him a blessing to all nations.

The ups and downs of sin and grace and judgment will continue. As the narrative of the great flood realistically said: "the inclination of the human heart is evil from youth." That is a fact. It colours our human journey and makes things difficult, tragic at times.

At the same time God will keep his promises. Within the discontinuity of time God will remain faithful. Despite human disobedience God will remain God.

For Christians this certainty is celebrated at Easter time. By raising Jesus from the dead, the same Jesus who became the victim of human rebellion and violence, God laid the foundation for the confession that undergirds our life.

"… where sin increased, grace abounded all the more"
(Rom 5:20)

Thorwald Lorenzen 18 January 2004

Last updated: 18 January 2004