Sermon, Sun 28 Aug/Wk1 of 'We make the road by walking': In the beginning...God

By way of explanation:
Today we begin our year walking though our faith heritage, as we intentionally follow the framework provided by Brian McClaren's book:
'We make the road by walking.'

Over the course of this year, as we make our road together with God, and one another, we'll explore where we fit in to that great, ongoing story of God, and God's people.
And so, like any good story, we begin at the beginning...

1st READING: Ps 19:1-4[a]
2nd READING: Genesis 1:1-19
3rd READING: Gen. 1:20 – 2:3

SERMON: 'In the beginning, God'
Let’s pray: May the words of my mouth, and the meditations
of all our hearts, be acceptable in your sight, O Lord,
our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

‘In the beginning...God.’
Scripture... begins with God.
God is right there in the very first sentence of the very first book of the Bible:
God, at the beginning of scripture –
God, at the beginning of all things.
God, there ‘in’ the beginning.
‘In’ – not ‘over there’ –
not some detached deity, looking on from afar,
but a being intimately, utterly involved –
part of, not apart from –
connected...
‘in’.
'In the beginning...God’ -
connected to all things through an awe-inspiring act of imagination
that brings everything into being –
connected to all things through the act of creation.

Scripture begins with God –
and in that beginning, sets the tone for everything else,
reminding us that God is first,
that God is the centre out of which everything comes,
out of which everything lives, and moves, and has its being.
All of creation revolves around the One who,
in the beginning, created the world –
who, through the Spirit,
breathed life into nothingness,
breathed form and shape from formlessness,
breathed order into chaos,
brought light into the darkness and scattered colour across it,
who composed a symphony of noise and movement –
creakings and squeaking
and roaring and speaking:
bird-song,
waterfall,
sighing of wind through new-grown leaves.
Stars, sun, moon...
Ocean, lakes, and rivers,
flowers, shrubs, trees...
all forms of animal life;
Creation: teeming, fruitful, diverse and vibrant.
Creation: good.
Creation: alive. 
Alive with every fibre of its being:
breathed into life by the giver of all life,
the One who was there ‘in the beginning.’

‘Genesis’ means ‘beginning’ –
Genesis is the book of beginnings –
the book which begins with God and the beginning of all things;
which tells us of God’s relationship to all things,
and tells us how we fit into God’s created order of all things...
Tells us the story of creation –
of the origin of the universe,
of the world,
of us;
tells us where we came from and why we’re here.
In that telling – the telling of the story of creation,
we get an insight into the One who was there, in the beginning:
creative, imaginative, playful...
a God whose mind can comprehend infinite detail,
creating patterns invisible to the human eye.
A God of relationship
who orders the creation in such a way that each part of it
is dependent upon the other.
A God who says ‘yes’ to life –
by saying ‘let there be’...
And in the speaking and in the creating, beholds that creation:
sees it with the artist’s eye, and says 'it is 'good’.

Scripture begins with God;
begins by telling us the story of the Creator God,
who creates out of love -
the God who, delighting in life and energy,
wants to share with others just what it is to be alive.
To experience abundant life –
life teeming with possibility and promise and goodness.
Brian McLaren, in his book, ‘We make the road by walking’
talks of this ‘aliveness’, and says that:
‘to be alive is to look up at the stars on a dark night and to feel 
the beyond-words awe of space in its vastness. 
To be alive is to look down from a mountaintop on a 
bright, clear day and to feel the wonder that can only be expressed in
‘Oh!’ or ‘Wow!’ or maybe ‘Hallelujah!’
To be alive is to look out from the beach towards the horizon 
at sunrise or sunset and to savour the joy of it all in pregnant, saturated silence.
To be alive is to gaze in delight at a single bird, tree, leaf or friend, 
and to feel that they whisper of a creator or source we all share.’ [WMTRBW p5]

In the beginning, God created...
and within that creation of breath-taking love, God created humans to live –
to love the Creator and to love and to tend the earth.
And the mark of God’s particular love for humans?
Of all that was created, only we are created in God’s own image.
And so, to look at one another is to see the face of God reflected...
prisms of life and light and love,
reminding us to love –
to love God,
to love one another,
to be bringers of light,
and to share in the joy of living,
and to give thanks for it.

Scripture begins with God,
God in the beginning...
God at the centre of the whole of creation.
That is God’s relationship in the web of creation.
And what of us?
Who are we?
Where do we fit –
what is our relationship to the Creator and, to creation?
In this story of life – in this, the book of beginnings,
we find that we are God’s people.
God, calls us into being, and creates us in his likeness;
we are profoundly, intimately, linked –
linked in love to God,
linked to one another,
linked to the whole of creation.
I like the way McLaren puts it:
‘The Creator brought us all into being, and now, some 14 billion years later, 
here we find ourselves: dancers in this beautiful, mysterious choreography 
that expands and involves and includes us all. We’re farmers and engineers, 
parents and students, theologians and scientists, teachers and shopkeepers, 
builders and fixers, drivers and doctors, dads and mums, 
wise grandparents, and wide-eyed infants.’ [WMRBW p4]

This first account of creation –
for there are two, and we’ll look at the other account next week –
this first account of creation is a like great hymn of praise.
It’s not to be read as some ancient scientific text book giving
a step by step factual account of creation.
Here, the text has a sense of glorious, beautiful poetry – speaking to a truth
more profound than that which can be measured in a test tube.
It’s why I’ve often puzzled at the science versus creation debates:
I see no contradiction.
Science and the bible are looking at creation through quite different lenses:
Science looks for ‘how did we get here’ and comes up with
the Theory of Evolution - which is fine, and works for me.
Theology, on the other hand, is located within a community emerging
from what was an oral, story-telling tradition...
Theology looks to the ‘why’ – why are we here?
What is the point and purpose of being here –
of being alive within the wonder and loveliness of creation?

The answer to that is to look to the One who created –
and who called us to tend, to care for, the creation.
To live, is to care.
To be alive within creation is to look not just to ourselves –
we look outwards to others:
other human beings, of course – our neighbours.
But outward to the other inhabitants of this planet –
whether animal, vegetable, or mineral – for the whole of creation is our neighbour.
A fact not lost on that gentle friar, St Francis, who, the story is told,
would occasionally preach to the birds of God’s love.
Every action,
every decision we make,
every word we utter,
impacts not only upon us, but upon the whole of creation.
Older translations of the Bible talk of humans being told to
‘subdue’ the earth – to dominate it.
The better translation is that ‘humans are given dominion, not domination;
they are caregivers, not exploiters.’ [Feasting on the Word YrA, vol. 3, Dave Bland, p31]
I’m minded of the words of a hymn in our hymnbook: number 243,
written by Shirley Erena Murray, and called ‘Touch the earth lightly.’
The first verse goes:
“Touch the earth lightly, use the earth gently, 
nourish the life of the world in our care: 
gift of great wonder, ours to surrender, 
trust for the children tomorrow will bear.” 
Like the One who spoke creation into being, so, too, we are given the power of speech –
given the power to affirm life and love by echoing God’s own words of life and love:
by saying ‘let it be’,
rather than ‘let it cease to be’.
‘We do unto creation as God has done unto us’  [FOTW p31]

Scripture begins with God,
and shows us, that, in the beginning,
God is not just the Creator of a particular tribe or nation...
but that God is the Creator of all:
‘God makes the sun to rise not just on Christians, or Americans or Europeans. 
God causes the sun to rise and the rain to fall on all humans, animals and plants.
God blesses all creation.’ [FOTW, p29]
The very diversity of creation is a call, not to fear difference:
rather, it’s a call to celebrate it, and see it as a blessing.

Scripture begins with God –
God in the beginning,
God of beginnings;
of energy, of life.
And within this story of creation,
here we are: alive.
God’s people, walking gently upon God’s creation,
reminding ourselves of who we are – of whose we are...
‘where we are, what’s going on here, and how 
beautiful, precious, holy, and meaningful it all is.’ [WMTRBW p6]

As we make the road together – with God and one another –
let us remember and give thanks for life in all its fullness,
for life in all its goodness,
and to go out, into God’s good world,
sharing that life and goodness with all we meet...
and, by doing so, celebrate the One
who made us,
who loves us,
and who walks with us now and every day.

Let’s pray:
It just happened, Lord.
At least, that’s what we’ve been told.
Before time started marking the millennia
you spoke – and there it was.
Not yet fully formed, 
exploding outwards, 
pulsating with concentrated energy, 
full of infinite potential,
pregnant with the unknown possibilities of life:
the very matter of the cosmos,
brought into being by your word.

We think we know what happened next:
the spread of the galaxies,
cosmic soil coagulating 
into stars, planets, solar systems;
the whole universe too vastly enormous
for us to comprehend;
our own world one tiny, minute fragment
of an infinite whole.

To you, 
our world could be a mere speck of dust,
a tiny crumb unworthy of your attention.
Yet you have declared it to be precious,
its life exquisitely made,
intricately connected,
delicately balanced,
a statement of your greater glory.
And into this beloved globe of mortality
you continue to speak your words.
Sometimes we heed them 
(though obeying them is another matter);
often we prefer to remain deaf.
Yet your words still bring life,
recreating your handiwork,
restoring communion,
reconnecting humanity with the divine.* [Spill the Beans, 2013]
As you walk with us, and we, with you,
help us make the road ahead together –
help us find our place in the continuing story of your people,
and as we do so, let us give thanks that you are always with us. Amen.