The Primacy of Story: Creation

Let’s just get this out of the way right at the start: I don’t believe in six literal days. There are several reasons, which I’m not prepared to expound on. I will say this: if time wasn’t created until day four with the coming of the sun and moon then how would one measure 24 hour days? Ready for another bombshell: I don’t necessarily believe that Creation happened exactly like it says. I know, I know, burn him at the stake and all that. Let me explain this one because it has probably ruffled more feathers. 


Down through antiquity every major civilization has had a story of how the world came into being. A quick search on Wikipedia or Google will confirm this. The Israelites were no different. These ancient creation stories from every culture were passed down orally, not written down for generations afterward, many bearing striking similarities to those in Genesis. Archaeology has proved this tie and again. As these stories are passed down differences arise in the telling from generation to generation (think of the game “Telephone” that you used to play in elementary school; now extend it over several thousand years). Somewhere down the line a dust-covered Jewish scribe breaks out his Macbook and starts getting the story down into written form. Here you are now, sitting in your Barcalounger, with Jiffy Pop and a Jones soda, reading a leather bound translation of what a nomadic scribe wrote down several millenia ago. Ever wonder why there are two different accounts of Creation, one poetic (Genesis 1) and one narrative (Genesis 2)? Could it be that the author(s) were trying to do something other than just tell a story, perhaps even tell a story beyond the story? A poem is based on rhythm and structure. Though most translations turn Genesis 1 into a narrative structure, the original Hebrew is poetic. Hebrew poetry is uses repetition of lines and phrases to emphasize important ideas. Look at the phrases found in Genesis 1: 


And there was evening and there was morning


It was good


And God said


There are many levels of meaning present here that space will not allow me to go into. What the author wants us to see is that Creation--and all of life--is founded on rhythm. There is a driving beat at the heart of the Universe, carrying forward through history everything that is, like a celestial drummer (or that drummer from Def Leppard that only has one arm but blows up the drums anyway) pounding out the 4/4 time that pushes a song to its inevitable conclusion. Think about the rhythms of creation: four seasons every year; your heart, your breathing, your waking and sleeping; “nine planets around the sun repeat” (with apologies to Dave Matthews Band); 24 hour days; a sunrise and sunset everyday; the tides; birth and death. On and on the rhythms go. Gd even establishes in the 7 day creation a day of rest: six days of work, one day of rest. 6 and 1… 6 and 1… 6 and 1…


When we argue over six literal days we miss all of this. We miss the great truth that all of creation is rhythmic and our lives become full of chaos when we step outside that rhythm. Wonder why your life feels so chaotic? Check your rhythm with the rhythm God established.


There is more, much more to be found in Genesis 1 alone, much less Genesis as a whole. Are you missing the forest for the trees? Are you missing the story beyond the story? That’s why I don’t worry about six literal days, or how creation went down: it isn’t what’s most important here. What the story says about my story and our story is what is important. 


Switch gears now. Where does science factor into all of this? Despite what Ken Ham says, I’m not sure the Bible tries to give answers to the dinosaurs and all of that (I know, I know, Behemoth and Leviathan; but could they have just been really big animals such as an elephant or something? Either way, it isn’t definitive proof, no matter what the Creation Museum says). By remaining vague, Genesis leaves ample room for scientific theory and/or fact. If a “day” is not meant as a 24 hour period, then could it carry billions or years within those three letters? Faith and science need not be exclusive, nor, do I believe, do they need each other to survive. Many people fight against science, evolution and the like because they are terrified that science will prove their faith a fraud. So they ignorantly deny science as “out to get them,” when nothing could be further from the truth. Our faith is based on Jesus Christ crucified and risen, not on our view of Creation (or anything else, for that matter). The power of the Creation story lies, not in its literal fact, but in its story of rhythm, of rest, of a God who creates for relationship, and that that relationship has a rhythm of its own which must be maintained if we are to live fully and completely human lives. 


shalom, matt

The Primacy of Story

Few Christians would argue with the fact that the Scriptures are imbued with a mysterious, transformative power (perhaps, to say it better, the Spirit’s power flows through the ancient texts, bringing about God’s intended transformation in us. It isn’t the words, but the Spirit’s use of them that makes them what they are to us).  A careful, constant, disciplined reading of the written word (and sometimes even a cursory reading) can bring about astounding changes to individuals and faith communities. 


There is significant debate among “liberal” and “conservative” camps about whether or not Scripture has to be literally true in order to be considered truth. To me (and this is not official church doctrine) “truth” is something--Someone--real that changes you, somehow transforms you into something different and beautiful (think caterpillar-to-butterfly). The factual, historical accuracy of the story is not nearly as important (I would go so far as to say that it is secondary to the “truth” of the story), not nearly as crucial as what the story does to us and in us. If we rely upon historical accuracy to validate the real truth of the story then we put the real truth in danger, for if some “fact” is proved inaccurate then have we not also invalidated the truth of the story at the same time?


But, if we leave the two independent of one another, yet still connected, then the negation of the historical truth is not a deathblow to the “real” truth. the connection is not unimportant, but it is not crucial. The power of the story comes in what it does to you, not in the its literal fact. Christians, particularly fundamentalist Christians, tend to stop at the literal factuality of the story, never going beyond it into the heart of the story. By way of example, a literal six day Creation is more important to some than the meaning(s) of Creation. This is tragic, that they never move beyond literalism. If science or archaeology were to prove six literal days inaccurate then they would have to do one of three things: 1) Abandon their faith for secularism (see above diagram); 2) Deny science and archaeology, a path many take (see state of Kansas education system); 3) Change their outlook on the story itself. I’d rather go with option 3, for if we change our outlook on the story (and on the primacy of Story) we will find a deeper appreciation, love, hunger, and power in THE STORY. And we may just be transformed.

shalom, matt

Still Here

I haven't died, in case anyone was wondering from the 11 days of silence. I'm working on a fairly lengthy series of posts and will start posting here shortly. Sorry about the delay, work and family are taking up most of my time so I'm struggling to find time to write. 


Until then, here's a little Victor Wooten playing Amazing Grace on a bass. I'm sure I've posted this before, but I thought about it the other day while talking to a guy I work with about music and thought it worth posting again. 



shalom, matt

My Glittering Image

I’ve been reading a novel by Susan Howatch called Glittering Images. In the context of the book a “glittering image” is the self that we present to those around us, particularly those we desire to impress. It is the spit-and-polished version of our self, the mask that covers the real us, the one that we know ourself to be and the one that God sees. The real self is covered in warts, bruises, cuts, leprosy and wreaking of rotting flesh at times; full of lies, greed, deceit, lust, wrath and selfishness. It is also, at times, on what most would call “a good day,” capable of compassion, generosity, kindness and love. It is our true self, the good and bad, the self Christ died to redeem. It’s not a stretch to say that Christ came to save us from our glittering image, to show us how to live fully human and alive, to not hide our weaknesses but expose them, to, as Paul says, “boast in our weaknesses,” knowing that Christ’s strength is made perfect there. 


I have a glittering image that I’ve been trying to kill for years. I think he is a ninja, because as soon as I draw my sword to eviscerate him, he disappears into the night. I’ve succeeded in wounding him on occasion, but never fatally. My glittering image is very pretty, wearing a different outfit for every occasion. He is very eloquent, making flowery declarations and promises that my real self isn’t prepared to keep. He is well-mannered most of the time, though, at times, he will shoot his mouth off to irritating parties. He stands above in superiority and intellectual ability, wringing wet with false humility: “No, I only live to serve. All glory to God!” He loves accolades and applause, and is a simpering brat when he doesn’t get any. 


He’s a bastard child; I gave birth to him but I don’t know who conceived him. I don’t know when his birthday is, but he feels old, heavy and bloated. I wish I could ring the death knell on his existence so that I--the real I--could come forth from the grave, like Lazarus, shedding my grave clothes and breathing for the first time again that initial newborn breath of life, scented with the possibilities of a full, complete humanity, a future of hope, lived in grace and alive in the full reality of knowing that I am, at last, once and for all, Me.


shalom, matt