Sermon for Lent 1, Sunday 1 March 2020
On 17 May, we are having a confirmation service with the wonderful Bishop Michael Marshall again coming to officiate. Among other things, our confirmation sessions have led to a discussion about the relationship between religious belief and science. This raises questions about how we treat the creation story. We’ve just heard part of it, in particular, the bit where things start going wrong. Dreadful joke: man blamed eve, eve blamed the serpent and the serpent didn’t have a leg to stand on.
It’s worth pausing to reflect what we might learn from the biblical creation story. How are we to understand the creation story? Is it simply false? Is it literally true – and therefore we must simply ignore modern science? Is it a different sort of literature? If so, what kind of genre is it? (myth, proto-science, or is it more like a theological account). How was it written and by whom? [I would like to recommend John Barton’s recent book, The History of the Bible]
The first thing to note is that the Bible was not written chronologically. Genesis isn’t the oldest book in the Bible even though it’s placed at the beginning and is about creation. It was written when the Jewish community were exiled in Babylon. And so it’s a major reinterpretation of other origin stories.
It involves borrowing, a weaving together of creation narratives from the Ancient Near East (ANE). It also includes polemic: it was written in opposition to other creation stories. For example, the sun and moon were worshipped in Babylon. So the Jewish creation account refers to the sun and moon as greater and lesser lights. In other words, the sun and moon are not to be worshipped. One very significant change is that it affirms monotheism – that God is one. This was against the polytheistic creation stories with many gods who squabble and fight each other for supremacy.
In sum, the Hebrew creation narrative includes a mixture of borrowing and polemic.
And it tells us some amazing things about reality.
· Creation is good (Genesis 1.25). There is beauty, diversity, complexity in creation. It’s why churches often have images and carvings of creation.
· Distinction between Creator and created. EG an artist creates a sculpture… it is different, distinct from him/her. But creation carries within it the creator’s imprint. As humans we are made in the image of God to be afforded non-negotiable dignity and respect.
· Humanity is to tend and nurture creation, not to exploit it or just view it as a means of making money). Creation has intrinsic value. That’s why we need to engage in a way we never have previously with our environmental responsibilities.
So, the creation narrative gives significant theological insight into God and his creation. Moving on, how do we make sense of the fall? We know that mortality was as a possibility before the fall. Death didn’t suddenly enter the world with Adam and Eve. The question we face is how we can remain in conversation with evolutionary science, yet faithful to Scripture and the Christian theological tradition.
There are two major views about creation in Christian tradition:
Augustine – Adam and Eve in an idyllic garden, everything is perfect, God’s presence is clear; however, they ate some forbidden fruit and there was a cataclysmic fall. This fall caused a fundamental change in human nature, so that all descendants of Adam are born in sin, and can only be redeemed by divine grace. That’s the first perspective. The second is this:
Irenaeus (C.2nd Bishop Lyon) – Humanity, and all creation, was created to grow into maturity. The first humans were humans, Adam and Eve being archetypes, but they were not created fully mature. Maturation meant growing into the divine likeness. They failed to do this.
Professor Keith Ward, Anglican priest, philosopher, and theologian: ‘Millions of years ago… a basic moral choice began to emerge [for humans], a choice between the egoistic drive for dominance and power and the possibility of action for the sake of good alone…human history shows us that…choices were made for power and self-interest.’
In short, humanity, born out of the animal kingdom, have a powerful sex-drive and lots of aggression. Being guided by God means some kind of transformation of these drives; not just their repression, keeping the lid on them; but some real turning of them from within, a sort of conversion. A love that transforms aggression into energy, straining things back to God (Charles Taylor, A Secular Age).
Lent is about this journey, this transformation, a journey from paradise lost. With find Jesus grappling with this in today’s Gospel, struggling and overcoming all sorts of temptations. The big temptations that we all face…the human craving for power, the lust for fame and success and wealth, of self-aggrandizement.
In Lent we take stock of our journey of faith, our annual spiritual MOT. It’s a time when we learn again what it means to die to our false selves and to a life of giving, serving, and of compassion.
One of the spiritual disciplines in Lent is to metaphorically go with Jesus into the desert. To create space in our hectic lives to be still, to contemplate for a time each day. To pray. Silent contemplation. Could you manage each day 3 mins, 5 mins, 10 mins, 20 mins. Start small and build up slowly.
Richard Rohr: ‘The point of prayer is always union with God. But the side-effects are wonderful: it makes you a little less narcissistic, a little less offend-able, because your ego isn’t centre stage…’
The act of contemplation helps us to observe our false self, the self that Adam and Eve turned towards. And by observing and acknowledging our false self, whilst knowing God’s healing and loving embrace, we gradually detach ourselves from it. We begin to see who we really are… God’s precious children created in the image of God. Returning to Irenaeus, he said, ‘The Glory of God is a human fully alive’. God’s desire is to see each of us living life to our fullest capacity. Embrace Lent, embrace silent contemplation, know God’s love for you in this holy season.