Why the Beginning Matters

Sometimes I wonder what the creation story would look like if I switched roles with the earth. Better yet, what if the earth was personified and talked back to God like Moses? We never get to hear what the earth was thinking when God was putting his creative skills to work during that week. I imagine it going something like this:

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

Earth: “God, thanks for making me and all, but can I ask you why you did it? I mean look at me! I feel so empty inside, this water consumes me from all ends and everything seems so bleak and dark, especially compared to the heavens. God help me! You didn’t really expect me to be like this forever did you?”

And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.

Earth: “Whoa. It’s…it’s…breathtaking.”

From the scholars I’ve read there is no evidence that the earth ever talked back to God like that during creation; however, I wouldn’t put it past her. Yet the message shared in these first few verses expressing the nature of God is exceptionally clear:

God speaks, something happens.

When God speaks, something new, previously unimaginable, forms and leaves those nearby in awe.

Before God spoke light into being all that existed was a dark, formless world. And the earth would’ve never known what it was missing out on. The only thing previously acknowledged was its emptiness. If God didn’t intervene, I bet you the world would’ve probably needed counseling sessions for depression like symptoms and follow through with a 10-step plan for recovery, only to relapse in her sorrow and emptiness.

Instead, we see that God speaks into the darkness and creates light. God speaks into the formlessness of the world and creates structure. God speaks into the circumstances of the globe and creates something better than anyone else could imagine.

Our God still speaks today with that same power. The question now becomes: Are you letting Him speak into your life? Or are you too comfortable with the darkness, the chaos that ensues from a busy, fruitless, self-driven life?

Trust me, it’s difficult. God speaks into areas of our life that we were comfortable with and had accepted as fate. But if we allow God to speak, change will happen.

 And I promise you this change will be for the better. Much better than anything you ever imagined possible.

What an Idiot

Here’s what’s wrong with the world: 

           

The other day I saw my friend Caleb walking on the sidewalk with a McDonald’s bag in his hand.  I happen to know that he’s going through a difficult time in his life right now—nothing noticeable on the outside, but inside he’s getting tired.  He’s told me so.  As he walked by a trashcan he tossed his McDonald’s in it’s general direction, but missed, and kept going. 

            It was then that I saw another person I know, her name is Jean.  Jean is what you’d call an eco-freak; she’d sell her grandma into slavery to save a tree.  Unfortunately she’d just seen Caleb miss the trashcan and quickened her pace to kept catch up with him.  After she’d thrown the bag in the trash she said, “Hey, you missed your target, you know.”  Caleb turned around.  “So?”

Uh oh.

For at least three minutes Jean was in his face giving him a speech about the environment and what “people like you” are doing to it.  She said how he was dishonoring the earth in a way that meant, “you’re a criminal and I’m a saint.” Zero respect. It made me sick, but Caleb just stood there and took it—he didn’t say a word.  Finally, she finished her spiel as though rebuking a little kid, “Don’t you know that the way you treat creation is the way you treat the Creator?” 

“WHAT?  You’ve got to be kidding me”, I thought, “what an idiot!”

Doesn’t she get that he is creation?  And not just a part of it, but the very pinnacle; God’s own image.  Doesn’t she get that she is dishonoring him?  Her little rant stripped him of all dignity and she has the nerve to lecture him about disrespecting creation!  It’s people like her that are ruining the world. 

What an idiot. 

But here’s the problem:  The way you treat creation is the way you treat the Creator. 

You see, if she was wrong then so am I.  I hated her in those few minutes.  Not the way we usually think of hate, you know, the diabolical laughter kind you see on cartoons, but a subtler sort that gets annoyed when she’s around, that wouldn’t be sad to see her fail, that whispers, “what an idiot.”  This is hate too, and I’m guilty.

If there’s something wrong with her then there’s something wrong with me; something wrong with me for hating her.  It’s people like me that are ruining the world.  I hated Jean for hating Caleb, and you can hate me for it.  Before you know it the entire world is tied together in this crime against each other, against humanity, and against God.  Because the way you treat creation is the way you treat the Creator. 

If Jean’s guilty, then we’re all guilty, and that’s what makes hate so powerful.  Like Gandhi said, “An eye for an eyes makes the whole world blind.” 

But isn’t my hate justified because she hated him?  Can’t I hate the hater?  Not without making it right for someone else to hate me, and for someone else to hate them, and on and on ‘till all our hands are doused with blood.  This hatred of man—hatred of God—deserves death; I deserve death.  The whole planet hangs under the shadow of death because of hate. 

That’s what makes death so powerful.  That’s what’s wrong with the world. 

And that’s what makes Jesus’ love the ultimate power, the last laugh.  He said “love your enemies and pray for them.”  He said to love those who hate.  Even those who hate you. 

He looked hate in the face, took hate’s hand, and let hate lead him to his death. 

He loved hate. 

This was the first time anyone had ever loved like this.  Only this type of love is more powerful than hate (“For even sinners love their friends”).  Only this type of love is more powerful than death.  And so Jesus concurred death with the most secret, most sacred, undefeatable, insoluble, buzzer-beating, hell-robbing, death-defying, power of all—love.  And so he conquers me daily. 

Conquers my hate.  Conquers that subtle little whisper, “What an idiot.”

This is how the world was saved.

This is how to save the world.