"God Created the Heavens and Earth"

Gen. 1:1-2:4a; Ps. 8;  2 Cor. 13:11-13; Matt. 28: 16-20

Dr. George R. Sinclair
Pastor

May 18, 2008

            My knowledge of astronomy is limited.  And when I say “limited” I mean I’m able to point out the Big Dipper and on a good night the North Star.  Actually, in my office, I have a coffee table book titled, The Hand of God, Thoughts and Images Reflecting the Spirit of the Universe.  I turn to it from time to time when I need a boost.  It contains beautiful pictures taken from the Hubble telescope.  One of my favorites is the Spiral Galaxy NGC 1232.  It looks like a pinwheel.  As a matter of fact, it bears a close resemblance to a satellite image of a swirling Gulf Coast hurricane.

NGC 1232 is about twice the size of the Milky Way or some 200,000 light years across.  The caption in my coffee table book describes NGC 1232 this way:  “Millions of bright stars and dark dust are caught up in the gravitational pull of the spiral arms rotating about the center. Open clusters with bright blue young stars are visible along the arms. Less visible, but detectable, are hundreds of billions of dim normal stars, and vast tracts of interstellar gas.” 

NGC 1232 is not only vast and beautiful; it is a long way from here.  Light travels at 186,282 miles per second or roughly the distance to the Moon in a slow blink of an eye. Light is speedy.  But even at speed, the Universe is a very large place for light to race around.  It takes just over eight minutes for light to get here from the Sun.  Light from Pluto, at the outer reaches of our Solar System, takes about 5 hours to get here, while light from our nearest star takes 4 years.  That’s a long way off.  But consider this: light from NGC 1232 takes 100 million years to get here.  The pinwheel of light caught on film by the Hubble telescope left the spiral galaxy 100 million years ago. 

Star gazers not only peer into deep space, they peer far into the past. The farther away a light source is from us, the farther into the past astronomers peer.  Astronomers see what has been.  Theoretically, I suppose, they may one day train a telescope on the Big Bang and catch a glimpse of First Light itself.  Wouldn’t that be exciting, seeing all the way back to the beginning? But even then, even with that mind boggling vantage point, we’d need some other means.  A lens, even a very strong one, just won’t do it. Telescopes can’t take us to the beginning.  The only way there is by faith. 

“In the beginning God created . . .”  Faith is an act of doxology, an act of thoughtful praise, which, so far as I know is the only way to the beginning—“In the beginning . . . God.”

Sermons are only supposed to have three points. Mine this morning has six, which doesn’t mean I’m going to preach twice as long, only that you’ll have to listen twice as fast.  “God created the heavens and the earth.”  What does it mean to believe this?  Let me offer six observations.  Each is a sermon in itself, but with 15 minutes, I’ll be brief.

 

Observation number one:  That God created the heavens and the earth means we are not an accident.  The Universe is the deliberate act of God.  Because God has made us, life has meaning, life has purpose.  We are not here by chance. We’re not merely lucky nor are we fated. We are created by God.

Of course the evidence for affirmation creating God is conflicting.  50,000 people died last week in China as a result of an earthquake; 100,000 died the week before in Burma. One report on the Burma cyclone was titled: “A Curse from the Heavens.”  An accompanying picture showed bloated bodies washed up on a muddy debris-strewn beach. 

Nature does not speak with one voice. Nature is not always beautiful. Nature is not always peaceful.  It can produce ugliness and violence.  So the jury is still out—not on God, but nature.  Nature cannot and does not tell us who we are or what God is like.  Who we are and what God is like depend upon God’s self-disclosure and our response of faith, which brings me to a second observation:  Creation does not equal God.   

Christians do not worship nature.  We may admire or appreciate nature but we worship the Creator.  God is not “in” nature any more than God is “in” space.  Rather, God creates nature. God creates space.  The Bible paints this important distinction using the language of heaven and earth, as in “thy will be done on earth as in heaven.” God is “in heaven.” We are “on earth.”

I’ve been kidding my Sunday school class lately about heaven.  I ask them where heaven is.  And they tell me, “Heaven is up.”  When we think of heaven, we naturally think “up.”  But where is “up?”  The sky is not a place.  It’s a reflection of light.  So where is up?  Where is heaven?

The designation up works as a reference for where God is because it’s not readily apparent where God is.  God is not obvious at least not in the same way that you and I are obvious.  God is hidden. God is up.  God is “in heaven,” transcendent, reflected in nature but not equal to or the same as nature, which means that God creates out of freedom.

Creation is freely made.  God does not create out of necessity.  God chooses to make us and in choosing to make us God creates space where he is not. God creates space for us.  For us to exist, God must not occupy the same space.  It may sound silly to say it this way, but in order for us to exist God must be “along side” us.

Think about a parent.  A mother gives birth to her child.  She feeds the child, clothes the child, provides nurture, shelter, protection, direction, all the things a good parent provides. But for that child to grow up, for the child to become an adult, the parent must step back. The parent must give the child space. Smothering helps no one, well, it might make the smotherer feel better, at least momentarily and sometimes for years, but ultimately smothering does not promote well-being.  Parents must give their children room.

God gives creation room. That is something of what we mean when we say “God is up.” God creates freely.

A third observation . . .  Creation is not only purpose-filled and freely made, it is good.  “God saw that it was good.” 

You are very creative people. I know you.  Some of you write, some of you are painters; some of you are musicians, some of you sew and do needle point; some of you plant beautiful gardens.  “The good” God sees is like “the good” we feel when our works satisfy us, when what we create is pleasing.  A work of art does not have to be morally good to be good art; the same is true of a rose or a poem.  We are pleased by beauty which is a different thing from “pretty.”  Beauty has to do with joy.  When God sees what he has made God takes delight.  Creation is “good” because it pleases God. It brings God joy.

Christians have often suspected that anything that feels good must be bad.  If it feels good, you probably shouldn’t do it.  That’s not how God responds to his creation. It brings him pleasure. He calls it “good,”  which means our bodies are good; sexuality is good, food; sleep; work; play; music, art, dance; all, are good.  If God delights in his creation, why can’t we?

Christianity is not anti-worldly.  Christians are pro-worldly. We often hear the term “spiritual” Christians.  What about “earthy” Christians?  I think they have more fun.  Give me an earthy Christian any day, a Christian who delights in God’s creation.  God’s gift is good, all of it.

Observation number four . . .  God’s deliberate and freely created good gift is created by calling. Not once but seven times God says, “Let there be. . .”  “Let there be light. Let the waters be gathered.  Let the earth put forth vegetation. Let us make humankind.”   Let. Let. Let. 

The Bible also knows God commands.  “Thou shalt” and “Thou shalt not.”  But here in Genesis the voice is one of permission, invitation, evocation.  Creation is an act of God’s love and the manner in which God creates is consistent with his love.  How God creates reflects God’s heart. And God’s heart is not coercive.

No one, not even God can make anyone love.  Have you ever tried to make someone love you?  You can’t.  We can trick people. We can fool them.  But true love is not based on deception or grounded in command.  “I’m going to give you an order: ‘You must love me.’”  Love doesn’t work that way. God creates by “letting” the world be.  God creates by opening the possibility for true love which means among other things that God risks rejection and that we are exposed to suffering. 

If you never want to get hurt, never love.  Risk love and you will get hurt.  I can’t tell you why God made the world this way, only that he did.  The possibility for love also creates the possibility for non-love and for suffering.  God takes that risk.  God creates by calling.

Observation number five . . . God’s deliberate and freely made gift created by calling is intended for blessing.  God blesses three times in this story.  God blesses the fish and the birds; God blesses humankind; and God blesses the seventh day.  The language of blessing is the language of gift.  Creation is intended for blessing.

  On Mother’s Day our daughter called. I had reminded Meredith twice during the week, “You know Sunday’s Mother’s Day?” 

“Yes, Dad, I know.”

So, Sunday Meredith calls and I answer.  “Hi, Daddy,” she says.  “See I remembered.”

So I hand the phone to Paula.  And I can tell by the drift of the conversation there’s news, BIG NEWS, “You’re going to be grandparents.” 

Blessing.  We don’t ask for blessing. We don’t work for blessing.  Blessing just comes.  Blessing is not a reward for our love or patience or even our faith.  Blessing originates with the Giver, which is what makes blessing so wonderful, so life-giving, so out-of-reach that it can’t be spoiled by grasping.  Blessing elicits one thing—thanksgiving, which is the whole point—the Creator creates creation so that we live thankfully, so that we are blessed, which is a different thing from living anxiously, competitively, and sparingly.  Blessing evokes generosity.  Blessing evokes sharing.  Blessing creates peace.

Observation number six . . .  The deliberate and freely given blessing is given to those made in the Giver’s image. 

Thursday I heard a speech by the head of the Labor Department.  He had an early flight, so folks were still eating when he got up to speak.  It’s tough to speak when folks are still eating their lunch.  Anyway, I’m finishing my coffee and he’s about three-fourths through his otherwise labor-department-sounding-speech when he says, “No one is dispensable.  We have a moral imperative to serve everyone including those on the margins, especially those who’ve been imprisoned.”  And I think, “Whoa, what did this government bureaucrat just say? He’s talking image of God.”

“No one is dispensable.”

God does not make a few in his image. We’re all in his image.  God didn’t make one race in his image, one class in his image, one political party in his image.  God didn’t make only rich people in his image or just poor people in his image.  God made humankind in his image. 

You represent God. I represent God.  Your neighbors, my neighbors, everyone everywhere represents God, which should give pause whenever we’re tempted to write anyone off.  “No one is dispensable.”  We are made in God’s image.

            I said I had six points, actually I’ve got seven, here’s my last . . . When God finished creation he rested.  Rest is about more than sleep or relaxation, but those words are not all bad.  They point in the right direction. They point toward Sabbath.  Both relaxation and sleep suggest “letting go,” a sigh of relief, the “ahhh” of a day’s end not as in, “Man, I’m glad that’s over with.”  But, “Life is great. Life is grand.  Life is beautiful.” 

God’s deliberately and freely given gift is not only beautiful, it is also beautifully complete.  And its completeness, invites joy, the joy of Sabbath rest. Amen.