Psalm 139
8 September 2013
“I praise
you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”
The Sunday
school children begin a unit on creation next week. They will learn about the
creation story found in the first chapter of Genesis. We will also amend the
curriculum with some other creation stories from other cultures, because one
thing that seems universal about creation stories is the sense of awe and
wonder that inspired them, and that the stories in turn inspire in those who
hear them.
We don’t take the first account of
creation as the literal be all and end all explanation of how the world began.
If we did, we would run into trouble when the book of Genesis presents a
completely different story in the second chapter. We know that the Bible is not
a science textbook. It was never meant to be. The bible is a collection of
stories, some very ancient. The Bible is a collection of faith conversations with
generations of monotheists with whom we have claimed a kinship. It is a chronicle
of how we have made sense of God, the universe, everything. Whenever we open
the Bible we enter into a family reunion with our long-dead relatives, and we
do what we do at family reunions: tell stories and vent disagreements.
How do you explain this to
children? Well, young children rarely have a problem with biblical literalism.
They live in the world of story. They can enjoy Maurice Sendak’s “Little Bear”
series without challenging Sendak on the veracity of bears who talk and wear
clothes. They see no problem in the space time contiuum of “The night Max wore
his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind or another… he sailed away through
the night and almost over a year to where the wild things are.” And when Max eventually returned from the
land where the wild things are, his supper was waiting for him and it was still
hot. If you haven’t read the book, I apologize. Get thee to a public library
and check it out.
The truth is, even when we get a
little too wild and mother sends us to bed without any supper, when we come to
our senses and return from the land where the wild things are we will find that
mother has provided us with all that we need. Because she loves us, wild or
not.
In the same way, the creation
stories are true. Each stage of creation light and darkness, day and night, sky
and sea and land; birds and fish and animals and finally, the capstone of
creation, people: we are created and blessed by our maker, and declared good.
In fact, we are very good.
It doesn’t matter that it didn’t
actually happen. It’s still true. So we teach the creation stories not to
create little creationists who are ready to argue with their science teachers!
No! We teach these stories so that the children can learn that they are
fearfully and wonderfully made, created and blessed by a God who declared them
good.
This is
important, because there is power in naming and blessing. We become who we are
told we are. Anyone who has ever suffered abuse knows how poisonous curses are.
There are grown people in the world today who are still trying to get over the
names they were called by their parents, siblings or others who had power over
them.
A few years
ago I met a man named Jerry, who was working with GLBT veterans at the VA
hospital in St. Cloud, veterans who were struggling with PTSD and depression
with the added challenge of being gay or lesbian in Central Minnesota. When
Jerry asked the group what their experience of church was, stories poured out
of their mouths, stories of moral injury. Their experiences of church were
incredibly similar—they were stories of blessings revoked. No matter how
faithful these veterans had been while “in the closet,” as soon as they “came
out” they were shunned, cursed, rejected. Jerry asked them if they knew of any
churches where they would be welcome. They did not. He told them about our
church in Brainerd, an open and affirming church, and they were surprised, and
a little disbelieving.
You see,
what I have learned over the years is that many GLBT folk have been so injured
by churches and church folk, that they are not eager to give another church a
chance to hurt them some more. It’s not enough to put up a sign that says “open
and affirming.” That’s insider language, nobody outside of the UCC knows what
that means. And showing up at Pridefest isn’t enough either, though it’s a move
in the right direction. If you sat at the booth yesterday you might have
noticed how many people passed cautiously, looking out the corner of their eye,
making a wide circle. Once bitten by a rabid Christian, twice shy.
It takes a
good deal of patience and perseverance to heal the moral injury done by the
cursing Christians. And it takes a lot of blessing to build up the trust
required to bring someone into a church, where they can learn that they are
loved and blessed by God, and by the beloved community of the church.
It’s hard
work, but it is precisely what we are called to do. To bless as we are blessed,
to love as we are loved. To tell the story of original blessing, until we know
it is true, and can tell it by heart.
Praise God,
for you are fearfully and wonderfully made. And God thinks you are fabulous.
