Saturday, November 2, 2013

Let there be...light


God created light first.
That is enough theology to last a lifetime...

Have you ever been driving to work, or sitting on a beach or on a mountain or in a field and watched the sun come up? That is one of my favorite things. Not because it teaches me anything about God, but simply because it is so unspeakably beautiful. The powered mahogany of the sky slowly relents to lighter purples and grays. Outlines of trees or houses begin to take form. They had been sitting there quietly watching with you, too. A moment then comes, and I always miss it, when the grays and purples of the sky open their sleeping eyes and awake with the faintest sparks of orange and pinks. Clouds dance and swirl while the sounds of the earth sigh in gladness. The pinks become brighter and soon the oranges are mixed with mellow reds.

            And then you see it...
 
           The first crescent wave of a golden orb peeks over the horizon. And as time passes, it moves regally like the monarch it is up in the sky taking its place as king. Everything it touches comes to life and the clouds adopt its purple and pink hues, declaring allegiance to the royalty of the sun. And yet as the sun rises higher and higher, its song is the same. Its declaration of allegiance is to someone else:

‘God is alive! Our Creator has sent me to tell you that he is still working, that his love has not failed. So do not be afraid! Be of great courage man, be of strong heart woman!
Our God is for us!'

I am always left in tears at the sight of the sunrise. Every morning the same thing, and yet it always moves my heart, it sings to my soul and my soul answers. It is the song of creation, the song of new birth, new mercy, new life. I wonder if it was the same song God sang as he looked out into the void of nothingness and, moved by joy, intoned his first of many great hymns, Let there be light...

            But the story goes on. He looked at the light and saw it was good. This means God feels. He knows emotions. He takes pleasure in creating as an artist takes pleasure in painting or sculpting or performing. A wise man said once that a drop of infinity is of far greater weight than the vastest oceans of finite things.

It is like the toddler who grabs his bucket and rushes into the ankle deep kisses of the great Pacific yelling in glee, “I’m going to catch the ocean!”

Humanity is that bucket and God is the great Pacific. Each individual soul is that bucket and God even still is the great Pacific. He has more than more than more than enough of his goodness and love to fill you up, to answer your prayers, to show you that you are his impossibly loved son or daughter, right now as you are.

            And in this story, before he created us, this infinite Artist understood to the infinite measure every scenario that could occur within his choice to paint. He understood what could happen; he knew evil was a possibility, and yet he still creates…and calls it good.

            We cannot look upon this first scene of the Great Story and assume that he was impulsive with his actions. He is not a God who in the whim of the moment decided, ‘Ah, what the heck. Let’s just do it.’ No, if he is the Pacific and all creation is the bucket, then he was well aware that the brokenness of this world was plausible. He did not act ‘in the dark’ of some unseen event emerging from his creation. He shaped Lucifer too and knew that he could possibly betray him. He did not create ignorantly and he is never surprised. His infinite being will not allow him to be surprised.

            One drop of infinity swallows up the vastest regions of finite space. It swallows them up, it penetrates them to their core, it extends onward, inward and still has more which overflows.

This should change our thoughts when we hear, “My cup runneth over!” It most certainly does and has more to spare. We are the cup beneath the waterfall which never stops flowing; yet we have no idea where the water is coming from. Why do we not pray knowing this? But that too is later.

            In this first moment, to know God is infinite and hear that he calls light and creation good, that he still decides to act, puts my soul at rest. He knew what could happen and he still created. I will trust him.




[i] “The Epistle to the Romans,” Karl Barth

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