“True wisdom”

Genesis 6:11-14, 7:1-5, 8:13-22; Matthew 7:21-27

The texts set out for churches to consider in today’s lectionary readings both have the theme of floods and the potential devastation they cause. It is ironic to consider such stories in a time of drought. Wouldn’t we love just a little bit of that devastation? In fact we are rather drawn to stories of disaster. They make up significant percentage of newscasts, and a lot of money is earned by film-makers who seem to know disaster movies will always be popular. Actually I’ve seen a few movies lately – one was The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – a rather lighthearted disaster movie where the earth was totally destroyed to make way for a supergalactic expressway - but it still reminds us how vulnerable our little planet is in the perspective of the whole of space. Before that film was screened there was a preview of the next blockbuster - a new Tom Cruise film called The War of the Worlds with buildings collapsing and roads buckling all over the place. And last week I watched Titanic for the first time – before I watched it some one described it to me as an hour of boredom contrasting rich and poor on the ship and establishing the relationship between Rose and Jack but then 2 hours of excitement as the ship went down…

And yet, I don’t think either of the biblical stories we’ve read today is ultimately about a flood. That might be the setting used, but the passages are there primarily to talk about God and our relationship to God.

The first eleven chapters of Genesis are sometimes called the primeval history – they cover universal themes of creation, the entry of evil into the world, and the spread of humankind. But none of these chapters are true history in the sense of a record of factual events. The flood narrative has probably been a badly misused passage in a number of directions – its not really a children’s story even though the ark and the animals push us in that direction. Nor should it be part of the battleground between those trying to prove the literal truth of the bible through archeological evidence. On the other hand, while we might recognise that the story of the flood in Genesis is one amongst many ancient stories about a universal flood, it is not merely a myth as we might speak of such stories, reflecting on the nature of the cosmos. Each of these lines of inquiry miss the main point of the text. It is primarily a theological statement. It is words about God and God’s dealings with creation. And they are words that are worth hearing and reflecting on again.

It is a long story, and we’ve only read a few selections from it today. In its entirety it is written as a carefully constructed drama. There is a careful pace and repetition of phrases and themes that build tension and then resolve it. We can in fact look back over the story and see the beginning, the end, and the turning point. Let me explain…

The beginning is in fact a frightening reversal of creation. In chapter 1 of Genesis we had been told that God acted to bring order and shape into a formless void. We were told that a dome was made to separate the waters below the earth from the waters above the heavens. We heard that the waters were gathered into seas and the heavens were lit with lights and stars, and all of it was pronounced good. But at the beginning of the flood story we are told that God had reached a decision to destroy the world he had created. A boat was necessary because the waters of the heavens were going to be let loose. It seemed that the resolve of God was uncompromising – so that these sorts of words are attributed to God: “I will blot out. I will destroy. I will bring a flood.” What was once Very Good was now to be erased. And yet this harsh language is tempered by the language of pain and grief – listen to these words: “The Lord was sorry that he had made humankind on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart.” (Gen 6:6) There is a glimpse here into the heart of God, and because God’s resolve to judge creation is ambiguously declared we are permitted to ask questions of God.

Could God bring an end to the world? We know that our planet is fragile. We know that we are contributing to its demise. We know that our future is jeopardised. Brueggemann says “while it is not clear that our faithfulness will guarantee our world, it is beyond doubt that our infidelity diminishes our lives and all of life around us.” (78) And this story from a faithful Israelite community seems to suggest that it is a definite possibility that God may will this world to end.

And so a second question arises: can God’s mind (or perhaps more relevantly, can God’s heart) be changed? This is the theological cry at the centre of the story.

It is significant that right here at the beginning, amidst words of judgement and grief, a person is introduced. Noah, we are told, found favour in the sight of the Lord (Gen 6:8). God had someone to talk to who would listen and obey. Noah became the embodiment of a different future for the people of God. Noah is the first real model of faith in the bible.

So the beginning of the story is about the anger of God, the grief of God, and the emergence of new possibilities for humanity.

Let’s skip to the end of the story. The flood has abated. The ground has appeared again. Life on land is possible again. God’s resolve to destroy has been overturned. And significantly, Noah immediately kneels to worship. I heard about a young girl who heard this story in Sunday school but didn’t think this part of the story could be right. Her complaint was that if that were true Noah and his family would have had to kneel in the mud, and that would be nasty. It’s true that children do sometimes miss the essential point when they hear a story, but perhaps this little girl’s concern points us in the right direction – it should give us pause when we hear that the very first thing Noah did was to offer a prayer of thanksgiving. The logical thing would be to look for emergency shelter, for food, for fresh water. But before he thought about a roof over his own head Noah built a place for the worship of his God. This is a foundation for building the future – to have a place for contact and communication with God.

But isn’t this interesting? The relationship isn’t just one sided. God was not there waiting for humankind to respond. At the end of the story we are told again that God speaks in his heart, the same place where he first struggled. And this is what God says. “I will never again curse the ground because of humankind, for the inclination of the human heart is evil from youth. Nor will I ever again destroy every living creature.” (8:21) There is an acknowledgement by God in his heart that humankind is hopeless. The flood has not changed this. And yet, God resolves to stay, to covenant, to continue on.

Another film I’ve watched again recently is Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It’s a great story about relationships in all their joy and frustration, about the role of memories and the question of whether we would continue in life if we knew what was ahead. It is difficult to explain the plot concisely but a couple, Joel and Clementine, who have had a stormy relationship both decide independently to have the other person erased from their memory, which for the purposes of the story is scientifically possible. In the middle of the erasing process for Joel he suddenly realises that what has become a painful relationship actually had many joyful and enriching moments, life-giving moments, and he fights to retain his memories. When the couple meet again later, for both of them seemingly for the first time, their relationship begins again until they are made aware of the past and realise the potential for another stormy future. But the powerful ending to the movie is the decision that they take to go ahead and stick with each other anyway, even though they know it won’t all be easy, and even though there is a distinct possibility it will end badly again. This reminds me of this image of God here in Genesis – a loving partner in life’s journey who knows full well he is not making a commitment to a perfect humanity, but willing to have another go anyway, but even more than Joel or Clementine, to never give up again. Death and destruction are still part of creation, but from now on will not be rooted in the anger or rejection of God. God now values creation and stands for it. “Never again” is the promise – the sign is the rainbow. Memory is important in relationship. God says “I will remember my covenant when I see the bow” – a promise to creation and a reminder to God.

And in fact this is the turning point that comes right in the middle of this flood story, in Genesis 8:1, where it says “But God remembered…” “God remembered Noah and all the wild animals and all the domestic animals that were with him in the ark. And God made a wind blow over the earth, and the waters subsided.”

You know, it seems to me that one of our greatest fears in life is that we will be forgotten, because that would mean we are no longer cared for or cared about. Throughout the Old Testament Israel’s laments and complaints are often of that nature – “how long, O lord, will you forget me? How long will you hide your face from me?” (Ps 13:1)

For a while the narrative experiences that time of being forgotten, as the waters surge and all that is loved and known is swept away. Most of us will experience a flood at some time, most of us will know a dark night of being forgotten. But the gospel message even in this ancient text is that God will remember. The only thing the waters of chaos cannot sweep away is the committed compassion of God who made creation, and who repented of his desire to destroy it. When God remembers new life is possible.

It’s helpful for us to realise that the narrative of the flood was written down by Israelite scribes while the people were in exile – their world had collapsed, they were swept away; but in the midst of that they could recognise God’s change of heart. The prophets of the exile use the same language: Ezekiel talks about Israel’s heart of stone, but says God will grant a new heart to his people. Isaiah also reminds his people that God has not forgotten them:

For this is like the days of Noah to me:

as I swore that the waters of Noah

should no more go over the earth,

so I have sworn that I will not be angry with you

and will not rebuke you.

For the mountains may depart

and the hills be removed,

but my steadfast love shall not depart from you,

and my covenant of peace shall not be removed. (Isaiah 54.9-10)

Roman Catholic cardinals have been in the news quite a bit lately. But I recently came across a reference to one I had not heard of before. Cardinal Emil Léger was at one time one of the most powerful men in the Catholic Church in Canada. One day he laid aside his red vestments and stately hat and disappeared. Years later he was found living among lepers and disabled, on the outskirts of a small African village. When a Canadian journalist asked him, "Why?" he said,

“It will be the great scandal of the history of our century that 600 million people are eating well and living luxuriously and three billion people starve and every year millions of children are dying of hunger. I am too old to change all that. The only thing I can do which makes sense is to be present. I must simply be in the midst of them. So, just tell people in Canada that you met an old priest. I am a priest who is happy to be still a priest and among those who suffer. I am happy to be here and to take them into my heart."

The flood story in Genesis tells us that God took us into his heart. The gospels show us that in Jesus he placed the concerns of his heart right in the midst of creation. Jesus came to be one with us, to share our joys and frustrations, our weaknesses and pain, but also to teach us how to live. To remind us of the foundations that we need to lay in order to live wisely.

The passage we read from Matthew comes right at the end of the Sermon on the Mount. These chapters in Matthew form the core of Jesus’ teaching for that gospel. Probably Matthew put a lot of different sayings and stories together – I’m sure he would have loved to have access to a computer so he could cut and paste – bits from Mark’s gospel, moving around the order, adding new things. The resulting three chapter sermon is long winded when taken in one sitting, but contains important teaching for the early Christian congregation of his day, and for us. The way Matthew has chosen to end the sermon is with these serious words: a reminder of judgement to come and a suggestion for living a life of true wisdom. What makes the words a little unsettling is that the group they are addressed to are active followers of Jesus. Not the people who never darken the door of a church, but the people who practically live there. It is a reminder that while Jesus’ teaching can be summed up in a few short chapters of words, we have not really heard Jesus’ words until they become transformed into action in our lives, until they characterize our whole being. We are to follow THE word of God, and our lives must be acting on that word.

By finishing the Sermon on the Mount with the parable of building our house on firm foundations, Matthew wants us to understand that the kind of Christianity which counts is the kind characterised by the values set out in it – starting with the beatitudes and continuing on through what it means to be a disciple, to be freed from legalism but with the demand to love our neighbour and even our enemy. When Matthew brings his record of Jesus’ teaching to a close he also finishes with a sermon – a collection of parables in chapters 24-25 about the last judgement. We have already remembered that the inclination of the human heart is evil, and so the reality of judgement has to be held up before us. But if we live according to the way Jesus taught, with compassion for others, we will be sharing in the concerns of God’s heart and will be on the side of the rainbow when the earth is finally swept away. This is true wisdom – to trust in God’s commitment to us and to live in the way Jesus taught. God bless us as we seek to be people after God’s own heart. Amen.

JM: Canberra, May 29, 2005