Creation

Frederick Buechner (Wishful Thinking): If you think you're seeing the same show all over again seven times a week, you're crazy. Every morning you wake up to something that in all eternity never was before and never will be again. And the you that wakes up was never the same before and will never be the same again either.

I've mentioned before that there are times that my camera helps me to see God around me better than without it. A couple of months last year, I posted an image on Instagram and Facebook each day for thirty days - Images of the day.  I'm posting a collage of the October images here.  If you read the blog, you may recognize some of them, but not all.

I'm going to add a series to the blog called Perspective. I'll post an image and explain what I see in it - the questions it brings to mind. I think I'll do this once a week.

Look around you intentionally.  I think you will see evidence of God. You will certainly find that you will wake up to something new every day.

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

This morning I read Psalm 139.  Look at verses 14 and 15:

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
that I know very well.
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth...

Ashes to ashes.  Dust to dust.  Those words are often spoken at the graveside of those who have died as a reminder that we were created by God from the dust and to dust we shall return.  I wonder if the psalmist was remembering the creation narrative when he wrote these words about being woven in the depths of the earth.

It's an interesting image of God as weaver.  I don't know much about weaving - that's one craft I've never explored - but I know that the process is laborious and the product can be intricate and beautiful.  The weaver designs the fabric by the color of the yarn that is used to warp the loom and to create the weft (see me throwing out terms that I barely understand?  The warp are threads running perpendicular the weaver and the weft is the thread that is woven through them.  I think).  Woven fabric is fearfully (with awe and reverence) and wonderfully made.  I am certainly in awe when I see it.

And does the passage say anything to you about how long God has known who we are? If the psalmist traces our origins back to the creation narrative, when man and woman were created from the dust, then could it be that God does, too?  Has God known each of us from the beginning?  Or at least, has each of us been a thought - a creative spark - in the creator for a very very long time?

You are a beloved child of God, fearfully and wonderfully made by your creator?  Do you need to hear that today?  Is there someone else close to you - or who you have never met before - who need to hear that today?  And have you thought about looking at the person with whom you are angry and seeing that person as a beloved child of God, fearfully and wonderfully made?  Would it change how you respond to that person?

A Covenant with Creation

Sunset on Kanawha River

Yesterday, I talked about the Noah covenant in Genesis 9.  Look at this again:

Behold, I establish my covenant with you and your descendants after you, and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the cattle and every beast of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark.  I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth. (8:9-12)

Something I hadn't noticed before is that the covenant is not only with Noah; it is also with creation.

What does that mean?  If God values creation enough to include it all in the covenant, then we have a model for what we should value.  How does the idea that creation is valuable to God impact how we interact with creation?

Resting in Creation

I read this on RevGalBlogPals:

The verse I find most interesting immediately precedes the one I quoted above: And on the seventh day God finished the work that God had done, and God rested on the seventh day from all the work that God had done.

The seventh day, the day of rest, was the day on which God finished the work of creation. You’d think it would’ve been finished on the sixth day, making it okay to take a day off. But the resting is apparently part of the creative process.

The emphasis in the above quote is mine.  Have you ever thought of that?  Have you ever experienced that?  Do you believe that resting is part of the creative process?

I have.

When I'm working on a sermon idea, sometimes the best thing to do is to leave it, and come back later.  There is sometimes creation in the rest.  When I'm creating a brochure at work, and I think I'm finished, I'll leave it.  When I come back, I can see what needs to be done in order to really be finished.  When I'm concentrating on a project at work or at home, there are times when I need to stop, to rest, to take a break.  When I get back, the work goes much more efficiently and effectively.

Rest is creative.  Giving the mind and body a break is part of our rhythm of creation -- it's how we were created.

Creation

In the beginning was God. 
His hands itched to create,
to swirl nothingness with the power of his Word
and create goodness and glory.

Nothing existed except for God.
The breath of his Word swept across the nothingness,
until God imagined light.
From a tiny flicker of thought
in the mind of God,
there was a spark.
God pulled light out of darkness,
and it was good. 
God created the Day and the Night.

God moved across the water,
dividing it with power greater than we can imagine,
until there was sea and sky.
Related and yet separate.
God imagined clouds and wind,
waves and tides.
And he created them,
and they were good.

God swept across the ocean,
and like a potter with clay,
divided out land from sea.
Mountains rose at his thought.
Valleys and canyons were carved by his fingertips.
With joy and power, he sculpted the earth,
setting into motion the tectonic plates,
floating on a core of fire.
Each detail felt his breath
until he was satisfied.
Using the fabric of life,
he quilted together the trees,
Leaves and berries were his stitches,
Pops of color in the flowers.
Seeds for the future,
creating for the perpetuation of all he designed.
As he tugged the last aspen into place
he knew that it was good.

Like a photographer, he gathered the light,
and bound it into the sun and moon.
He met the needs of his creation
for heat and light,
by swinging the sun into the sky.
The moon became an anchor for the tides.
Earthly time flew from his Words
as the movement of his creation through the sky
marked the hours and the years.
His paint bush dabbed power in the sky
as stars began to glint and glimmer.
Giving the planet a push, he set the world spinning,
creating an evening and a night.
And they were good.

The next morning, God surveyed his canvas,
and smiled, rubbing his hands together with glee.
Life began to pulse as his Word spoke.
The air lifted creatures with wings
and fish shot through the deep.
Color and variety danced on the joy of God's imagination.
Clown fish darted as anemones waved in the water.
Eagles soared as God played with ostriches.
Fish swam and birds flew
as God declared their goodness.

Cell to cell, worms and elephants began to evolve
from the imagination of God.
Serpents basked on rocks, soaking in God's sunshine,
as spiders wove webs.
Animals sprang to life,
and God planted dreams of creation in their minds.
God's hands became gentle as he whispered.
A self portrait.
Man and woman, two parts of a whole, were spoken into being.
He blessed them with his imagination, his joy and laughter.
He blew across their hearts to start them beating
with love, created out of his own depth of being.
He made them clever and emotional,
and touched their lives with an awareness of their creator.
God laughed
at the goodness of it all.

He invited them to dominion and responsibility.
He placed his creations in their care --
the moon and the stars;
the water and the air;
the plants and the animals;
each other.
He promised them his presence,
and kissed them with his spirit.
The master touched his creation,
hallowing it,
and knew that it was very good.

Exodus 1:1-2:3

Creation and Praise

We had a discussion tonight in Disciple class about creation and praise. In Genesis 1, there is a sense that creation is involved in the process of creation -- not motivating it, but putting forth creation. In Genesis 2, man works the last, becoming a partner in creation. The creation is involved in creating.

In the same way, perhaps, many of the Psalms --Psalm 19, for example, speak of Creation praising God. The mountains, the trees, the birds of the air, all praising God. We are called to join the chorus (Psalm 33, for example). We have a response to the wonder of God.

It's a great image -- to imagine trees clapping and mountains praising. But consider birds, flying in the valleys, riding the waves of heat rising. They are living up to their full potential as creations, and perhaps that is means of praise. There is something majestic and wonderful in watching them soar.

In Psalm 150, it seems as if we are called to "give it everything we've got" in praise of God. Cymbals, trumpets, dance -- our whole being involved in praise.

I wonder if perhaps that is what unites the concept. We are made in the image of God; creation is a product of the imagination of God, it sings of its glory when it fulfills its purpose. Perhaps we are glorious testimonies to God's power and wonder when we do the same.

Timing of Creation

First of all -- Today's post is Post #1500. It doesn't really mean anything monumental, but it is a very nice round number. Fifteen hundred. Thank you for reading.

Now onto today's post....

I attended a Sunday school teachers' training session a few weeks ago. The presenter started the session by having us introduce ourselves and then tell each other something about our watch -- a story, its origin, thoughts about it.

When my turn came, I told where my watch had come from -- a gift from Steve -- and then I told about watches and Emmaus. Those who attend an Emmaus walk are encouraged to leave their watches behind. Freedom from one's watch is a wonderful gift, and it's something that I didn't realize until I took it off for a walk. You don't need it on a walk -- you are led throughout the schedule, so you have no need to worry. Giving up your watch, though, means giving up control of your schedule. It's the control issue that bothers some of us -- not the watch itself.

But, anyway, I told the group that now I where a watch in order to be on time, but not to time God. We have certain expectations of God, timing-wise. It's good to be reminded that we are not in control, and to let God be God.

I was reading Genesis 1 this morning for my Disciple class. As I wrote down some notes about it, I was reminded of the controversy concerning the counting of days in the Creation story. Counting days leads to counting years, and counting decades, so that there are some who try to date the Creation story with a year. Is that timing God?

What occurred to me is that the normal ways we account for time did not exist in the Creation story. What did exist was God. His creation marked the beginnings and ends of the days. To try to box God into certain 24 hour periods might be a mistake -- instead, I think we should be letting God be God, and letting his work in the world mark our days, and our years, and our decades.

Don't worry about the counting of the days -- count on God, instead.