Sermon Transcript: September 7, 2025
Genesis 1:1-2:4a
In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light. And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.
And God said, “Let there be a dome in the midst of the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters.” So God made the dome and separated the waters that were under the dome from the waters that were above the dome. And it was so. God called the dome Sky. And there was evening and there was morning, the second day.
And God said, “Let the waters under the sky be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear.” And it was so. God called the dry land Earth, and the waters that were gathered together he called Seas. And God saw that it was good. Then God said, “Let the earth put forth vegetation: plants yielding seed, and fruit trees of every kind on earth that bear fruit with the seed in it.” And it was so. The earth brought forth vegetation: plants yielding seed of every kind, and trees of every kind bearing fruit with the seed in it. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening and there was morning, the third day.
And God said, “Let there be lights in the dome of the sky to separate the day from the night; and let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and years, and let them be lights in the dome of the sky to give light upon the earth.” And it was so. God made the two great lights—the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night—and the stars. God set them in the dome of the sky to give light upon the earth, to rule over the day and over the night, and to separate the light from the darkness. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening and there was morning, the fourth day.
And God said, “Let the waters bring forth swarms of living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the dome of the sky.” So God created the great sea monsters and every living creature that moves, of every kind, with which the waters swarm, and every winged bird of every kind. And God saw that it was good. God blessed them, saying, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the waters in the seas, and let birds multiply on the earth.” And there was evening and there was morning, the fifth day.
And God said, “Let the earth bring forth living creatures of every kind: cattle and creeping things and wild animals of the earth of every kind.” And it was so. God made the wild animals of the earth of every kind, and the cattle of every kind, and everything that creeps upon the ground of every kind. And God saw that it was good.
Then God said, “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.”
So God created humankind in his image,
in the image of God he created them;
male and female he created them.
God blessed them, and God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.” God said, “See, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit; you shall have them for food. And to every beast of the earth, and to every bird of the air, and to everything that creeps on the earth, everything that has the breath of life, I have given every green plant for food.” And it was so. God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good. And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day.
Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all their multitude. And on the seventh day God finished the work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all the work that he had done. So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it, because on it God rested from all the work that he had done in creation.
These are the generations of the heavens and the earth when they were created.
For the Word of God in scripture,
For the Word of God among us,
For the Word of God within us,
Thanks be to God.
***
I want you to imagine with me for a moment, you have been asked to give an account of how our universe, our world came to be. Where would you start? How would you do it?
Would you try to remember what you learned in science class? Or from a PBS or Discovery special on the origins of the universe? Or would you go a different direction?
Would you try something more creative—paint a picture? Design a sculpture? Compose a piece of music? Tell a story? And what is it that you would most want to convey in your account of how the world came to be? The vastness of the universe? The beauty of nature?
Our place in the order of things?
The Bible actually contains several creation stories. There’s the creation poem in Genesis 1, which we just heard. There is the garden story in Genesis 2—which, despite its proximity, is actually a completely separate story than the one we find in Genesis 1. And the big clue that it’s a different story is that creation starts all over again from the beginning. The Psalms contain a few accounts, such as Psalm 74 and 104. The book of Job even includes a recounting of creation in chapter 26. Isaiah 51 is another one. Proverbs 8 tells the story of the creation of wisdom—depicted as a woman who partners with God in the work of creation. Even in the New Testament, as we will hear later on in this year, in John chapter 1 we get an account of creation that seems to echo both Genesis 1 and Proverbs 8:
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
Each of these accounts tells us something about the nature of creation, of our image of God, and our place in the order of things.
For example, you may have noticed that in the version we heard today, the narrator used the words rule and subdue to describe humanity’s relationship to the rest of creation. If you were following along in your bulletin, you may have noticed that the translation there slightly differs—it uses the word dominion. There are other translations that use steward or care instead of rule and subdue.
The truth of the matter is—the Hebrew there is actually ambiguous. It could mean all of these things. All of these are reasonable translations. But, as you can imagine, which one we choose makes a big difference.
Rule and subdue, of course, seem to indicate that all of creation is there for our use and our consumption. We are the apex beings. It’s all here just for us. And we can do almost anything we want to—we can use it, abuse it, whatever.
Of course, steward and care convey something quite different. They convey much more of a responsibility on our part. Creation is not there for us to do with whatever we want. Rather, we are meant to nurture and sustain God’s creation.
Now, how do we decide between these two very different interpretations? Brian Webb, co-director of Christian Climate Observer, writes: “It very specifically says, many places throughout scripture, that the earth is the Lord’s. It’s not ours.” He says,“There’s a huge difference between God giving the world to us, and God entrusting the world that belongs to God to our care.”
A closer look at Genesis 1 gives us some clues as well. There are patterns that are repeated throughout. Each day of creation repeats the same pattern over and over again.
First, God speaks or calls something into existence. It’s very peculiar language there—this language of “let this come into being,” this allowing.
If we think about it—if you and I are to talk about something that we made, we would simply say, “Well, I made it. I created it. I built it. I sewed it.” Whatever. “I did that,” right?
But Genesis says God creates by inviting things into existence. God doesn’t say, “I’m here. I made that.” God says, “I called that into being.” There is a sense of partnership and permission-giving. God isn’t doing this heavy-handed and alone. This invitation to participate in creation is right there at the very root of everything.
The next thing that God does in this repeated pattern of creation is to separate things.
So, for example, light is called into existence, but then God separates the light from the dark. And in this way, things are given space to be.
And finally, God takes a step back and pronounces what has come into existence as good. God blesses it. In fact, at the very end of the sixth day when everything has been created, God not only pronounces it good, but adds extra emphasis: It is very good.
This pattern of creation—invite, make space, bless—this is how things are, according to Genesis 1. Therefore, as those created in God’s image, it is reasonable that this story is calling us, as well, to live out this pattern in our lives and communities: Invite. Make space. Bless.
In this way, God’s act of creation is not static, but ongoing. It’s not once and done. There’s no finished product that can be hung on the wall or in a museum. God doesn’t just create things—God creates things that create things. Animals are told to procreate. Humans are told to be fruitful and multiply. Plants have seeds—which spawn other plants. Creation isn’t static—it’s dynamic.
In a very real sense, Genesis 1 isn’t something that happened thousands or millions of years ago—it’s something that is still happening today. And that means you and I are partners in God’s creation. We’re not only on the receiving end of God’s creativity—we are invited to participate in it as well. Invite. Make space. Bless. It’s not just the pattern of creation, but of our lives.
Theologian Jürgen Moltmann says it well: “God does not create by calling something into existence or by setting something afoot. In a more profound sense, God creates by letting be, by making room, and by withdrawing God’s self.”
The Reverend Jean Buchanan tells the story of a familiar scene—one repeated over and over again at this time of year. It is the story of watching his daughter and her husband take their daughter, his granddaughter, to college.
He writes:
“It’s an old drama. These parents love their firstborn so much they’re going to do the most extraordinary thing—they’re going to let her go. They will take her to college in another state. They will help her settle in—maybe even make her bed for the first time.
And then they will get in the car and drive away, leaving her alone.
But she won’t really be alone. Their love will remain with her. In time, she will understand that their leaving her was not abandonment, but the full expression of their love. They are experiencing a deep theological truth, even though they may not name it. The finest thing love can do is give the gift of freedom. It’s not without pain. Nor is it without risk. But genuine love lets go, backs away, gets in the car, and drives off, and allows a beloved child the freedom necessary for her authentic personhood—with all the risk that that entails.”
Invite. Make space. Bless.
As we come to this table, we see this same pattern in this meal that we share.
Following the example of our Lord, we take bread, bless and break it, and share it with one another. We pour out the cup, proclaiming the overflowing grace of our God.
Here we are fed for the life of faith, for our calling as partners in the ongoing work of creation: Invite. Make space. Bless.
So let us come—for we have been invited.
And let us make space for one another—for God has made room for all of us.
And let us bless each other—as God has so richly blessed us.
Amen.
