Monday, September 24, 2012

Yesterday's Sermon


“Noah and the Ark”

 

A Sermon Preached by the

Rev. Jean Niven Lenk

Sunday, September 23, 2012

First Congregational Church of Stoughton, United Church of Christ

 

Text:  Selections from Genesis, Chapters 6-9

 

Sixteen years ago today, I gave birth to a bouncing 8 pound, 13 ounce baby boy.  I tell you this for a couple of reasons. 

 

First, this coming week we’ll be making a trip to the Registry for a learner’s permit, and I ask you to pray for the safety of anyone venturing out on the road here on in.

 

But I tell you also because when Ian was a baby, I decorated his nursery in a Noah’s ark motif – the wallpaper, the sheets, the blankets, all depicted animals marching two by two onto the ark.  In fact, I still have the rug and the lamp.  Aren’t they cute? 

 

I imagine that many of us had some kind Noah’s ark toy or picture or book growing up – and why not?  There are all the elements for a great kid’s story -- a big boat, lots of animals, and, to top it off, a beautiful, colorful rainbow.  Yes, it’s a great kid’s story -- as long as you do a lot of editing and sanitizing, because the uncensored version we find in the bible starts out as one of the most somber and disturbing tales in all of scripture.  It begins as a story of God’s despair over the human race, God’s sorrowful regret at having made us in the first place, and God’s decision to put an end to us all by sending a flood.  But it ends up being a tender and redemptive story about God’s great love for creation. 

 

Just two weeks ago, we heard how God created the heavens and the earth, and no sooner does God declare them “very good” than things begin to fall apart.  Last week, we heard how Adam and Eve disobeyed God and were expelled from the Garden of Eden.  Then their son Cain murders their other son Abel.  We’re only a few chapters into the first book of the bible, and already there’s been disobedience, jealousy, and fratricide.  The first family on earth proves to be totally dysfunctional. 

 

Ten generations later, the earth is overcome by violence, pain, and discord.  People have not only forgotten about God, but they have acted horrendously towards one another.  It’s a long way from the perfect world God created, and we read in this morning’s lesson that it “grieved him to his heart” [6:6b].  And so, God decides to start over.  “I will blot out from the earth the human beings I have created – people together with animals and creeping things and birds of the air, for I am sorry that I have made them.”

 

But while God seems to exact the unforgiving vengeance of a merciless deity, the heartache of a wounded parent also shows through.  While God is angered, crushed, devastated by what has become of creation, God can’t entirely give up on the world made with so much joy and love; God can’t quite turn away, saying, “bad idea,” can’t quite abandon it, saying, “never again.”  Even though God could speak this world out of existence and speak a new one in to replace it, God decides against total destruction and instead chooses to create continuity between the old and new creation through Noah. 

 

And when the floodwaters recede and Noah and his family and all those animals wobble off the ark, God takes one look at them and the divine heart is transformed by the realization that retribution and revenge will not solve anything.  God is well aware that Humankind, the 2.0 version, will also be filled with violence and evil.  But God hangs up the weapon of destructive fury, and makes a holy promise to humanity and all of creation. 

 

“I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants and every living creature,” God tells Noah. “Never again will a flood destroy the earth.  Never again will I let my pain overshadow my love.  I am making this promise to you and all creation, and I will make sure I remember it.  The bow in the clouds is not for you; it is to remind me of my promise not to destroy you.  No matter how angry I am, no matter how heartbroken I am from seeing all the violence, suffering and injustice you inflict on one another, I will remember my promise.” 

 

God’s is a promise without strings and without conditions.  It is a promise that says, while death and destruction may happen in life, never again shall they be rooted in the anger of God.  And it is a promise that takes the bow – a weapon of violence and killing – and transforms it into a sign of God’s love, mercy, hope and divine remembering.

 

This is the first covenant God makes with God’s creation, but it will not be the last.  God will go on to make covenants with Abraham and Sarah, Moses and the Israelites, and with David—each one signaling another transformation in God’s heart, each one more gracious than the last, each one representing God’s steadfast love and endless mercy, God’s bend-over-backwards effort to remain in relationship with us.

 

The Noah story doesn’t end high on a mountaintop with the rainbow overlooking a newly repentant and reformed creation.  Rather, after disembarking from the ark, Noah plants a vineyard and too enthusiastically samples his crop, and the last image we get of him is drunk and naked, passed out in his tent.  When his son, Ham, tries to help by enlisting the aid of his brothers Shem and Japheth, things get ugly fast.  At the end of Genesis 9, Noah opens his mouth for the very first time to say something.  And his first words are a curse on his own son!

 

No, the condition of the human heart did not change after the flood, nor in the generations since.  Humans still separate from God.  Families still fall into dysfunction and estrangement.  Sin and evil and temptation continue.

 

But the God who so long ago wanted to blot out creation has promised never to give up on us.  Instead, God finds the capacity to love us unreservedly no matter how far we fall and how corrupt we become, entering into our brokenness and setting us on a new path to wholeness. 

 

In grateful response, may we turn back to our heart-changing God, who offers us an ark of gracious love and mercy to carry us safely through the waters of chaos and death to a place of new hope, new life, and new beginnings.  Amen.