When the LORD saw how great was man's wickedness on earth, and how no desire that his heart conceived was ever anything but evil, he regretted that he had made man on the earth, and his heart was grieved.
Although we know the end of this story, we should ponder its
beginning. God regretted that he had made
man on the earth and his heart was grieved.
There are many moments when troubles mount and hope seems
faint and we would Amen this sorry
assessment. But this story describes a distant, all-powerful deity who has
experimented with a creature made in his
own image and likeness and been disappointed. He dwells, like many of us, above
the fray and in relative comfort. From that distance it’s not hard to throw up
one’s hands and say, “To hell with it.”
During the first chapters of Genesis we hear the history of
sin, from Adam to the Tower of Babel. Despite God’s interventions – his counsel
to Adam and Cain and his purging the land by flood – sin continues unabated. Confusing the
languages of Babel wasn’t even intended to improve matters, though it might
have made the situation less bad. Clearly the strategy of distant observation
with occasional, unwelcome catastrophes has failed.
Human sin demands divine investment and intervention. Grace must
do more than occasionally meddle in human affairs. We need God’s abiding
presence and a very personal, direct relationship with God. That story will
begin with Abraham, in chapter 12.
It is easy to watch
television or scan the Internet and pronounce judgment on other people’s
affairs. “There oughta be a law!” we say, or “How can people act like that? Have
they no morals?” It’s not so easy to pronounce judgment when we’re actually
involved.
The Lord will step into human history when he befriends
Abraham. His old ways of ruthless punishment persist, apparently over Abraham’s
objections, when he rains burning sulfur on Sodom and Gomorrah. As Abraham
watched the mushroom cloud billowing over the “cities of the plain” we can
imagine his resolution to prevent its happening again, if at all possible.
The challenge of our time is to remain engaged. Pope Francis calls this engagement "mercy." Even
terrorism – as dreadful and senseless as it is – reminds us there is no escaping our duty of merciful participation. The threat that an American shooter or Arab jihadist might invade
our lives looms over our cell phones, personal computers and home entertainment systems. There are no “green
zones” like the failed experiment in Baghdad.
Genesis 1-11 tells us God could not keep a safe distance
from human affairs if he wanted to hear “Hallowed Be Thy Name.” The New Testament tells
us how God surrendered entirely to that impulse of love. The Mass tells us, “Go
in peace,” not to return to our comfort zones but to bring peace to this
uncertain, perilous world we call home.
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.