The Raven Foundation

The claim made [in Genesis 1] is not a historical claim but a theological one about the character of God who is bound to his world and about the world which is bound to God.

-Walter Brueggemann, Genesis, 26.

Genesis chapter 1 is one of the greatest pieces of literature the world has ever known. It’s radical. It’s provocative. And it’s one of the greatest hopes for the future of our world.

And yet, as Christians on the right and the left foolishly debate its historical reliability in the face of scientific notions of evolution, we entirely miss the point. Genesis 1 is not about our modern scientific understanding of the world.

The point of the creation story in Genesis 1 is to reveal a particular understanding of the character of God and of the world.

Walter Brueggemann, one of the most influential Old Testament scholars of the last 30 years, claims that ancient Israel’s creation story “served as a refutation of Babylonian theological claims” (Genesis, 25).[1] So, to understand just how radical Genesis 1 is, we need to contrast it with the theological claims of the Babylonian creation story, the Enuma Elish.

Here’s a little bit of historical background: The Babylonians conquered the Israelites and spread them throughout the Babylonian Empire. While in exile, the Israelites heard the Babylonian’s telling their creation story. The Enuma Elish is an exciting tale of conflict, violence, and revenge among the Babylonian gods. But I must apologize for the Babylonians. Their creation story is a bit confusing to our modern sensibilities. But hey, they weren’t writing for our sound-byte culture. It's more like an epic adventure movie. It can be complicated, but the more you know the characters the more you get out of the story. So, I’ll summarize the twists and turns of the Enuma Elish here. (You can easily find the myth online, but the most accessible translation I’ve found is from the book World Mythology.)

The oldest gods – Apsu, Tiamat, and Mummu – had some baby gods. And you know what happens to baby gods. That’s right. They turn into teenage gods. (God help us!) Well, as the story says, “The young gods joined together and had merry times. They were so rowdy that they disturbed Tiamat … and their exuberance caused her to resent their presence.” Tiamat complained to Apsu and Mummu about the noise those rambunctious teenage gods were making and they devised a plan to kill those rowdy adolescents.

“Apsu announced, ‘I cannot abide the way the gods are behaving! Their clamor continues incessantly both day and night … I desperately need peace and quiet! I shall have to stop their raucous activity the only way I can, by destroying them!’”

It was a tremendous, violent, and bloody battle. The teenage gods were led by the “heroic” Marduk. Although he was one of the younger teenage gods (let’s say around 14), Marduk was “the wisest and most able of all of the gods.” The teenagers quickly defeated the “evil” Apsu and Mummu, which left Tiamat, who created 11 monsters and “filled their bodies with venom instead of blood and gave them sharp teeth and long fangs.” (Call James Cameron!) She then enticed some other gods to join her in battle, and chose the god Kingu to be the commander-in-chief of her forces. The hearts of the younger gods were “filled with terror” at the sight of Tiamat and her troops. But Marduk came before his fellow teenagers and announced:

“Do not be concerned. I shall carry out your heart’s desire … Soon you will be able to tread upon Tiamat’s neck!”

Marduk quickly killed Tiamat and defeated her forces. He then tore apart Tiamat’s body and with her body he created the heavens and earth:

“Marduk … returned to Tiamat, stamped on her legs, and crushed her skull with his mace. (20^th Century Fox? Warner Brothers? MGM? Anyone listening?) … Marduk then divided Tiamat’s body into two parts like a shellfish. Half of Tiamat he set up as the sky; the other half he formed into the earth. From Tiamat’s saliva, he created the clouds and filled them with water … He put Tiamat’s head into position to form the mountains of the earth, and he caused the Tigris and Euphrates to flow from her eyes.”

After the heavens and the earth were created through the violent death and destruction of Tiamat’s body, the Enuma Elish relates how and why humans were created. Not surprisingly, the creation of humans was equally violent. (Good luck making this movie PG-13.) The gods found Kingu and killed him. Then they:

“severed his blood vessels, and fashioned the first human beings out of Kingu’s blood. Then Ea (one of the older teenage gods, let’s say, 19) explained to the humans that the purpose of their lives was to serve the gods.”

The Babylonian theology and anthropology behind their creation story claimed that the gods are violent and the world is necessarily a violent place. In fact, the world is fundamentally bad and evil – as it was formed from the evil body of Tiamat. Humans are doomed to a life of violence – as we were formed from the blood of the evil general Kingu.

Now, let’s contrast that story with the creation story in Genesis 1.

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.”

You can imagine how the Babylonians might have responded. “What!!! What kind of creation story is that? Where’s the rivalry? Where’s the violence? Where’s the blood-bath? How's James Cameron going to make that into a movie!?!”

As the Israelites’ story continues, we get a clearer contrast between their God and the gods of the Babylonians. The Israelites’ God keeps talking about the goodness of the creation:

“Then God said, ‘Let there be light’, and there was light. And God saw that the light was good.”

Kind of makes you read Genesis in a different, ummm, light, huh?

The ancient Israelites told an alternative story and, indeed, they refuted the theology of ancient Babylonian creation myth. They asserted that God is nothing like the violent and tyrannical gods of the Babylonians. Ancient Israel’s creation story actually separates God from rivalry and violence. This God doesn’t need to fight a battle to create the universe. Instead, God nonviolently speaks creation into being. And God’s words say something about the world – that the world is fundamentally good, indeed, very good. By Genesis 1:37 we find the anthropological message that humans are not doomed to violence and servitude to tyrannical gods, but rather are created in the image of this nonviolent and gracious God, making all humans (even those crazy Babylonians!) “infinitely precious” (Nahum Sarna, Understanding Genesis, 16).

Here’s the difference between the two stories: The Babylonians experienced a violent world and told a myth that justified their violent conquests. The ancient Israelites experienced violence in the world and told a story that disrupted their culture of violence. They looked at the violence in the world and said, “It doesn’t have to be this way. In fact, it’s not supposed to be this way. The world is a fundamentally good and nonviolent place, where God has graciously given humanity every good thing that we need.”

And that is why the truth of Genesis 1 has nothing to do with the scientific debate between the right and the left. Genesis 1 is much more important than that. It is about a nonviolent God who peacefully speaks a good world into being.

Genesis 1 refutes ancient Babylonian theology that imbued the gods and creation with violence. And wherever and whenever we link God and violence today, Genesis 1 refutes us as well.

[1] History buffs will know that the Babylonians conquered the Kingdom of Judah, not the Kingdom of Israel, which was conquered by the Assyrian Empire around 740 BCE. Technically the people in the Babylonian Exile would be called “Judah-ites,” or ancient Jews, but I find that cumbersome and confusing. For convenience sake, I'll call them "Israelites."

Is there any rational reason to believe in miracles? The question is not about belief in miracles per se, but the reason behind belief. Lots of times the question of miracles involves the search for a rational explanation. If you find one, then bingo, you debunk the miracle and score another triumph for reason. Recently I experienced a miracle trifecta in New York City’s St. Patrick’s Cathedral: mass was being said at the central altar; to the left was a really impressive nearly life-size crèche complete with adoring camel; and to the right was a chapel dedicated to the appearance of Our Lady of Guadalupe to a Mexican peasant in 1531. Transubstantiation, incarnation and visitation – easily debunked miracles, right? Yet there I was all dewy-eyed and verklempt receiving communion, lighting a candle at the crèche, and joining the crowd adoring Our Lady of Guadalupe because it just happened to be her feast day (coincidence or miracle?!). Had I taken leave of my senses and given in to some emotional, romantic experience of the presence of God or had my reason come along for the ride?

The question of rational reasons to believe in miracles might seem to be off the table from the start as a contradiction in terms. Yet I do think that there is a very rational reason to believe in miracles, a reason rooted in the very mundane reality of this world. At Christmas, angels (another easily debunked miracle!) announced that the mundane reality of the world was about to change. They proclaimed that a Messiah had entered the world as a little child to bring peace on earth. Really, now?? That would be a reality shifter of volcanic magnitude! The reality of this world is definitely one of not-peace and the idea that it could be transformed by a child, well, that would be a miracle! I couldn’t agree more! What I’d like to propose is that the reality of not-peace is sustained by a powerful, totalizing logic which would take a miracle to disprove.

Here goes: the desire for peace on earth is nearly universal, yet peace has been an elusive dream. Why is that? There always seems to be one more obstacle to peace, one more evil villain who must be defeated before peace can reign on earth. The job of good people is to be vigilant against evil and, if possible, to learn to identify evil before it can do harm to innocent people. This is the current quest of our own Department of Homeland Security, FBI, CIA, Department of Defense and so on. The logic of good versus evil requires them to identify evil and destroy it by any means possible, all in the service of goodness and peace.    

This logic is familiar to us and it permits the use of violence by good people in the name of peace. I have written about this many times before, so it will not be surprising when I point out that everyone who employs violence is doing so in the name of some ultimate good or another. Goodness is defined using me and my aims as the standard, of course, and evil is always located somewhere outside of me and my community. If goodness is always me-orientated, then anyone who opposes me, my goals or desires is by definition evil. Do you see how totalizing this is and how completely logical? If you begin with the premise that goodness equals me and evil is that which opposes me, then every “me” on the planet can self-identify as good and justify the destruction (figuratively or literally) of all the evil others out there who get in my way. We see it in domestic politics, international relations, and our own personal relationships when others seem to be willfully intent on obstructing our desires. They can be none other than evil by virtue of their opposition to the good – moi! This logic prevents us from seeing the truth that our enemies are using the same logic to define themselves as good and we as evil. All parties to a conflict use this logic to justify their use of violence so no one employing violence is self-identifying as evil. It is the good people, at least in their own opinion, who are doing all the bad things. Paradoxically yet logically, we find ourselves very busy creating a world of not-peace in the name of peace while never doubting our own goodness! A real predicament, isn’t it?

So what is the way out of this logical system? We could try to reason our way out, but ironically we have reasoned our way into it so successfully that any challenge to the system fits neatly into it: challenge my goodness or use violence against me and I have proof of your wickedness. Yet if I challenge your goodness or use violence against you, magically this is evidence of my commitment to the good. So anything that could crack open the logic at play here can’t come from within the system itself. A successful challenge would have to come from outside the system and appear other worldly, outside of our everyday experience – in other words, a miracle. A miracle that allows us to see ourselves in the face of our enemies and our enemies as children of God. The miracle can come to us in and through our mundane experiences: a birth, a meal, a message of love. When it comes, the logic of good and evil and of violence in the name of peace is revealed for a lie and peace becomes possible.

I believe in miracles because their existence challenges our reliance on logic and reason, which is an absolutely good thing given how much trouble logic can get us into. But miracles have a logic of their own, the logic of the possible impossible. In fact, the idea of a miracle might actually have some support from mathematics, the language of science. In the early twentieth century, the mathematician Kurt Godel discovered what he called the theorem of incompleteness which is the proof of a paradox, that there are true but unprovable statements. True but unprovable: maybe that’s what miracles are. You see, it was very reasonable for me to be verklempt at St. Pat’s and for all of us to be a bit dewy-eyed at the sight of the babe in the manger. Miracles make sense! Peace is possible! Merry Christmas!

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Adam discusses the recent comments made by Stephen Hawking about science, God, and Heaven. Does science explain away the existence of God? Can something come from nothing? Is the human brain like a machine? Is Heaven a fairy tale humans made up to make ourselves feel better about the future?

I plan to preach this morning, but, and this sounds a little awkward, I plan to preach to the confirmation class.  So, I’m inviting the rest of us to listen in.  It might have something for you, but this sermon is primarily for the confirmation class.

Emma, Daniel, Erik, Madison, Christian, Amanda, Madeleine, and Sam, it has been a great pleasure for me to have been through this confirmation process with you.  You have been a great gift to me.  You have challenged me and have brought me to a better place.  I do this because I believe in it, and I believe in you.  For all of that, I thank you.

Confirmation Sunday always gives me a sense of hope because you have a pretty good idea of what you are getting yourselves into.  You are confirming yourselves into the church, and the rest of us are confirming you into the church at the same time.  And we all know that the church is a human community, and as a human community there are times when we fail to live up to our ideals, and there are also times when we succeed.  By confirming yourselves into the church, you are telling us that you believe in this thing.  And we ask you today to gently hold the rest of us accountable to being the church.  And we will also gently hold you accountable being the church as well.

There is a new documentary out in the theaters that speaks to what we’ve been exploring this year in confirmation class.  It’s produced by Tom Shadyac, who also produced such modern classics as Ace Ventura, The Nutty Professor, and, my personal favorite, I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry.  It’s called I Am.  It’s a fascinating documentary.  Shadyac had a horrible biking accident that caused many health issues.  He always had questions about his life, but after this traumatic event, he began to take those questions more seriously.

The documentary starts off with bad news and then discovers good news.  He looks at the violence and chaos in the world and he asks, “What’s wrong with the world?” and then asks, “What can we do about it?”  The documentary is part autobiographical and part interview.  He explores what’s wrong with the world by exploring his own life.  He came from a somewhat humble background, and then he made it big in the movie scene.  He made a lot of money.  And with that money he bought all kinds of stuff.  Mansions, and stuff to fill those mansions.  He bought cars and private jets.  He was the epitome of everything our culture tends to view as successful.  He had it all.

But he describes a moment when he bought a mansion in Beverley Hills.  The movers finished placing everything into his mansion, and he tells us how he just stood in the entrance way, feeling empty.

All of this stuff, and he felt empty.  All of this success, and he felt…depressed.

What is that about?

He goes throughout the world and interviews scientists, historians, and spiritual leaders.  One scientist claims that part of what’s wrong with the world stems from a message within modern science.  He says that much of modern science got it wrong.  What he says is that modern science told us that we are primarily individuals.  You are your own person.  The truth of who you are is located in your brain.  Indeed, a major truth statement within modern science and philosophy is, “I think, therefore I am.”  The emphasis on the individual means that when other people begin to influence you that you lose a sense of who you are.

That’s a big message of modern philosophy and science.  The problem that Shadyac experienced is that when we emphasize the individual, we lose a sense of our humanity.  When we emphasize ourselves, we can easily isolate ourselves from our fellow human beings.  Shadyac discovered that the more stuff he bought for himself, the more isolated and disconnected he became from his fellow human beings.  He had all the stuff in the world, but no meaningful relationships.

The scientists that Shadyac talks with question the individualism of modern science and philosophy.  This is the good news that Shadyac claims to have found.  The scientists he interviews claim that we are not so much “individuals” as if there is this disconnect between us.  Rather, we are all connected in a fundamental and, yet, mysterious way.  He observes that we can’t help but influence one another.  So, when we see someone suffering, we suffer too.  It’s as if we take on that suffering; it affects us.  Likewise, when we see someone happy and smiling, we’re likely to respond by smiling back.  We are wired for empathy.  We are wired to be in relationship with others.  We are wired to be influenced by one another.  One scientist even claims that what is “real” is not found in individuals.  The truth of who we are is not found in our brains.  Rather, what is real is found in the space between us, in our relationship.  The bad news is that we can work against the natural connection we have with our fellow human beings, and with the world.  We can numb ourselves to others by emphasizing our relationship with stuff as opposed to our relationship with other people.  As Shadyac found, that leads to emptiness, depression, and a lack of meaning.

Near the end of the documentary, Shadyac interviews a scientist and asks her “What do we do now?”  She claims that what humans need is a “Change of mind.”  Remember this – a change of the mind – it will come up in a few minutes.  She says that we need to change our minds so that we see that we are interconnected at the most fundamental level.  That when one person suffers, indeed, we all suffer.

Shadyac also interviewed many spiritual leaders.  The one person I want to point out to you is the former Archbishop of Cape Town, South Africa, a man named Desmond Tutu.  Tutu understands the interconnectedness of human beings; he gets it from Christian tradition.  We remember from Genesis that God created humans in the image of God, and that God breathed God’s spirit into humans.  But Tutu also gets this idea of interconnectedness through African spiritual traditions.  There is an African term that speaks to the interconnectedness of human beings.  That term is ubuntu.  Tutu claims that ubuntu recasts the modern saying “I think, therefore I am” and phrases it, “I am human because I belong.”[1] Ubuntu says that if I raise you up, I raise myself up.  On the other hand, if I diminish you, I diminish myself.

Now, how does this fit into our readings from this morning?  I want to focus on Acts.  Acts tells the story of the early church after the resurrection of Jesus.  Here we find Peter preaching to a group of people.  Peter has both good news and bad news for the group.  He starts off with the good news of resurrection; that God raised Jesus up.  For Peter, God is a God of life, not death.  The bad news comes when Peter says to the group “you crucified Jesus.”  Now, this is a very strange thing for Peter to say.  He’s preaching 50 days after Jesus was crucified, so it is very hard to believe that the people in this group were there when Jesus was crucified, or were in the crowd that yelled for Jesus to be crucified.  In fact, Peter was the one who denied Jesus three times.  But what’s even stranger, is that the group Peter preaches to says agrees with him.  In essence they say, “Yes.  We did crucify him.”

What is that about?

I think that what Peter and the group he is preaching to realize is that we all get caught up in cultural systems that lead us to forget that we are all interconnected.  Once we forget that interconnectedness, we are then able to crucify others.  Even someone like Jesus.  When we forget that what happens to you also happens to me, when we neglect that, then we can be physically, emotionally, spiritually, and economically violent with one another.

And the group says, “Yes.  We have participated in those social structures.  What do we do now?”

Peter says that what we need is a metanoia.  It’s a Greek word that often gets translated in the Bible as “repent.”  What metanoia literally means is: a change of mind, direction, or heart.  Peter tells the group that they need a change of mind.  Today, a scientist claims that what we need to do to make the world a better place is to have a change of mind so that we see the interconnectedness of all things.  2000 years ago, Peter claimed that we need to have a change of mind so that we see interconnectedness of all things and we no longer crucify one another!  We need to have a change of mind so that we see the interconnectedness of all things so that we no longer perform physical, emotional, spiritual, and economic acts of violence upon one another or upon the world.

But, we will fail.  Changing our minds is a lifelong process, and so failure is inevitable.  Peter is there to remind us that the resurrected Jesus forgave even Peter and his betrayals.  Peter tells us that God’s forgiveness is always there, waiting for us to accept it.  To paraphrase Peter, he says, “Change your minds and go in the direction of God’s forgiveness.”  Once we accept God’s forgiveness, we are free to offer forgiveness to ourselves and to others.

Science and our spiritual traditions are coming together and saying the same thing.  In fact, one person in the documentary claimed that science is just now catching up to our spiritual traditions.  What we need is a change of mind, a change of direction, so that we see that we are fundamentally interconnected to one another and to the world.  And we need you to help lead the way.

So, may you have a change of mind.

May you see that you are interconnected with all of creation.

And most importantly, may you know with certainty that you are loved by God.  And may you share that love with one another and with the world.

Amen.

[1] The Words and Inspiration of Desmond Tutu: Believe, 3.