Genesis 1:31 –
“God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and
there was morning—the sixth day.”
I was asked this morning whether I had any aches and
pains by the Healing on the Streets team. I did a quick mental journey around
the body and could come up with nothing. It occurred to me then that my aches
and pains are not physical ones but ones of the heart and the mind. My troubles were not external ones, but
internal.
Years ago, two of the members of the Scripture Union
group that met at lunchtime at school asked me if there was a way where they
didn’t have to read the set texts for English. I can’t remember the offending
book, but they did not want to read it. It wasn’t wholesome. There might have
been swear words in them. I have always held that we should not hide away from unpleasant
things. Things that confront our faith, or mock it, are not things we ought to run
from. We need to look at them squarely in the face and call them out. Thinking
that faith will buckle beneath things that mock or ridicule what we hold sacred
it to have a poor understanding of just who we have faith in. I may have said something
along those lines, or I may have told them to talk to their English teacher
about the issue. The might be alternative books they could read.
Lately I have found myself in that same situation, having
to read a book I’d rather not have to read. Set books, books chosen because
they exemplify a specific writing device, is part and parcel of the creative
writing degree I am doing. It’s not a Christian creative writing degree course
so the books are not chosen to build my faith. All the choices given me are not
books I would choose to read. Perhaps I’d start to read but if the characters
or the plot become unpleasant, I usually stop reading. I have an essay to
write, an analysis of the structure and techniques used by the author. Not
reading the book is not an option.
I made my choice and read the book. I didn’t enjoy the
book. There seemed to be no characters that I sympathised with. I wasn’t
cheering anyone on. The plot left a bad taste in my mouth. When I came to the
end of the book, it was with a sigh of relief that it was over. There was no
wish to leaf back and read favourite bits because here weren’t any.
Words spoken, words written, words read silently or out
loud – words are powerful things. They are creative. They are destructive. The
right ones can heal. The wrong ones can destroy. String them together and tell
a story and the words seep into the soul.
This week there have been no giants felled or strongholds
demolished. I have not lived up to being “more than a conqueror”. I haven’t particularly
been conquered either. It has not been an easy week. I have been quite grouchy
and for no good reason. Oh, well, there’s the whole thing about the new bus
timetable but let’s not go there.
I think it’s the book. It’s a kind of slow poison that
has crept off the page and lodged somewhere in my soul, like a stain.
I read Genesis 1:31 in an afternoon quiet time.
Even before I had reached the end of the sentence, I saw
myself standing before the word with arms crossed over, perhaps tapping a foot
lightly, saying, “Yes, but it isn’t, is it?” All that He has made isn’t very
good at all. I did not quite tick off all the ills of the world on my fingers,
but it was there – the list.
Then I imagined God, off His throne, storming towards me. He
was in my face, punctuating every word with a pause, “I saw all that I had
made, and it was very good.” This was not a prelude to a debate It was a
this-is-what-it-says-and-what-it-says-is-what-it-is. I kind of saw myself marching
out of throne room and slamming the door. If I had a room that’s where I was
headed slamming that door too.
“The problem,” said God, standing outside the door I had
just mentally slammed, “is not with the word. It’s with you. You have gone sour!”
As a species we have a natural character flaw to pick
fault and see the worst in things. Maybe I’m doing the human species a
disservice and it’s just me. The papers are full of the not so very good stuff
that people do. My ability to see what is good is always under attack. Perhaps
there is wisdom in not reading certain stuff like newspapers – but that is
hiding, and faith hates to hide.
“Come on out,” said God, “Le Me wet-wipe your inner lens
and wipe away all the stuff that has accumulated, all that stands in the way of
you seeing clearly.
God wants me to look at His world and echo His words that
it is “very good” because it is. It’s not about pretending that it’s not damaged,
but about having and using His gift to see beneath the damage, to see the
beauty that is there.
