Sacramental Living

WARNING:  Theological content straight ahead …

This is Part 2 of an ongoing post.  Read Part 1 here.

There are three seemingly simple, yet particularly interesting, characteristics of God’s creative revelation–all introduced in the first three verses of Genesis–that fuel the imagination concerning the context of the “source and foundation of the meaning discerned within Israel’s history.”[1] The introductory phrase, the tohu webohu –the emptiness, shapelessness–and God’s first creative acts of speaking things into existence are remarkable and distinctive features of this narrative that creates meaning for all existence.  We will take a systems approach with these three aspects: looking at the whole and then moving to the parts.

The widely held translation of the opening phrase of Genesis–”In the beginning, God created”–along with a largely superficial understanding of the “formless void” of verse 1 and that we are told God created the heavens in the earth in verse 1 has yielded the theological concept creatio ex nihilo, that is the doctrine that states the world was created out of nothing.  A close reading of the text casts doubt on this doctrine.  In fact, it is unlikely such an idea occurs anywhere in the Old Testament.[2]

The challenge is: how could God create out of nothing if something–the “formless void”–was there?   The ‘nothing’ might be a void or chaos.  If a void, this would have affinities with theologies that emphasize grace, but “have the indirect effect of denying the moral and interactive character of God’s grace.”[3] Such theologies would rather have the nothingness be chaos, and attempts to find distinct and striking parallels between the Genesis creation story and the Enuma Elish.[4] The Enuma Elish, the Babylonian creation epic, bears similarities in Near Eastern language and comprehension–i.e., Tiamat (sea) and tehom (the deep)–to the Genesis account, but these similarities are suggestive of a Near Eastern cultural understanding of the world and not of an account that is quite close to the Enuma elish.

The opening chapters of the Hebrew Bible evidence a difference in philosophy of language.  We see a juxtaposition of culturally scientific language and poetically expressive language, or what has been called mythopoeic language.  It is with this expressive language of mystery that the poet of Genesis tells a story of the Creator-God who does not struggle with the pre-existent chaos.  Rather, his ordering of the heavens and the earth–of reality–is done at first with words.  God speaks, and it is.  The chaos is ordered.

For the Hebrew people, a narrative of the first things would include elements of the present and the future, laced with the understanding of what life is like at present and musings on what humanity will do with this life.  Always in the forefront of Hebraic thought would be the participation of God in the people’s doing of life.

This yields a beautiful coherency that is absurdly interrupted by any traditional understanding of creation ex nihilo.  Chaos exists; it simply is.  As it was at the first, so it is now.  Something of present life for the poet is reflected back into the Genesis account.

The nothingness of the tohu webohu is not the only substantive that is, however.  There is something behind the nothing.  That something speaks light into the darkness of the nothingness.  That something speaks separation of the chaos and orders the chaotic waters.  That something speaks stable dry land into existence, and life to cover the land, and varying lights for seasons, and living beings to be co-participants in the creation process within the created order.  Then God finally creates his own image–one of diversity within unity–as minister to this created order: a risky venture indeed.  The entire unfolding of this creation narrative, though bearing some affinities to other Near Eastern creation accounts, is marked with newness and imagination.

The idea of newness can be further illuminated by a closer reading of the opening line in Genesis:

With first things God created the heavens and the earth. (Gen. 1.1 orig. trans.)

Unlike Marduk who must struggle with Tiamat–and that only after many lesser gods have battled and failed miserably against her– the Creator-God of Genesis simply speaks the nothingness into order.  There is no epic struggle, nor is there any weakening of the chaos from lesser Gods.  This is indeed a ‘first thing;’ a first of many acts this God performs that are new.  The prophet of 2 Isaiah notices this pattern of newness in YHWH God:

As of now, I announce to you new things,

Well-guarded secrets you did not now.

Only now are they created, and not of old;

Before today you had not heard of them.

(Isaiah 48.6b-7a)

Likewise the prophet of tearing down and building up wildly–and truthfully–imagined when declaring to the harlot Israel whom God had just declared a virgin anew:

How long will you waver, O faithless daughter?  For the LORD has created a new thing on the earth: a virgin births a man.  (Jeremiah 31.22 orig. trans.)

In this creation, God has not annihilated the primordial chaos.  Rather he has transformed it.  Out of nothing, something emerges.  This word-fulfilling action is worthy of Israel’s praise.  This is why YHWH’s historical deeds are regarded as creative acts. YHWH creates a people out of slavery and out of exile.

The coherency of thought that has its genesis in Genesis ties together the often segregated theological categories of creation, redemption, and transformation.  Violence of a categorical kind must occur to some degree in order to grasp the nuance of these activities of our God who is always ‘beyond.’  Yet, there flows a river of cogency that washes away our conceptions of sterile classification when we see this Creator-God YHWH ever moving those who respond to his grace from creation to new creation.  This fluency melts the dividing lines of the God who creates from the God who redeems from the God who transforms.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Jon D. Levenson, Creation and the Persistence of Evil: The Jewish Drama of Divine Omnipotence (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988), xxvii.

[4] Here, the Genesis creation story referred to is that of Genesis 1.1-2.3.  Though some scholars understand the opening chapters of Genesis to be comprised of separate creation stories, I find them to be one coherent creation story, expounding or showing us new angles of only one account.

[5] The preposition bĕ is just this: a porous Hebrew preposition.  Scholarship takes the translation of bĕ to be determined by grammatical context.  Since it could be translated “with, to, in, about” or as a number of other prepositional possibilities, strict adherence to “in” is unnecessary and misleading.

SO TELL ME SOMETHING:
What’s your take on creation ex nihilo?

——

Brian Niece
www.brianniece.com
If you enjoyed this post, get free updates by email or RSS.

Trinitarian theology is just about as interesting to me as sacramental theology. And I’ve been noticing of late how the Trinitarian lens through which I see the world has shaped me for missional life.

For example, God’s inner life, God’s relationship with the world, and God’s role as the source of all our understanding of who God is are threads woven together by God’s own producing of God’s self.  God is eternal and thus time is always present-tense from God’s perspective.  There can be no ordering of events in specified orders–”whether temporal, logical, or otherwise.”[1] To maintain a trinitarian grammar, there can be no producing without a producer and a product.  As David Cunningham states God’s activity of producing: “God produces God . . . God produces the world . . . God produces our knowledge of God.”[2]

In God’s producing of God, there is not mere self-duplication.  God gives over God’s self to an Other, so that there might be an Other.  Cunningham uses the example–a vestigium, perhaps–of pregnancy to illustrate this internal self-differentiation.  The Father, as Source, produces the Son, as Wellspring, and the Spirit, as Living Water.  Yet, verbal forms of these processions would be even more accurate, though more abstract.  Because, the differentiation within the Godhead is relational; the processions consist of relations constantly relating within each other.

God produces the world as gift.  And God awaits the return of this gift with our ‘Yes.’  God enables us to sustain this ‘Yes,’ as God continues to create, redeem, and sanctify the world.

God produces our knowledge of God.  No authentic understanding of God is possible outside of the “communally-normed reading of the biblical narratives that is made possible by the Spirit-filled Church.”[3] The vestigia trinitatis are supplementary to intimate corporate knowing of God.  God has already revealed all of God’s self.  God now continues to illuminate our hearts and minds to his truth and revelation.

It’s this understanding of God’s producing of reality that paves the way for incarnational living.

[2] Ibid., 58.

[3] Ibid., 83.

It’s been 14 years!  14 years, I tell ya.  14 years since the sounds of “My Name is Jonas” first rang in my ear and opened me up to a whole new musical genre.

I’ve waited with anticipation for Weezer to captivate me like they did with their debut album: Weezer (Blue Album).  And now, finally, it has happened.  The latest self-titled offering has grabbed me and isn’t letting go.

Though there were glimpses of Rivers Cuomo’s brilliance on Pinkerton and Weezer (Green Album), this is the first album since their debut which gets a full play for me.

There is a coming-of-age in this album.  Musically and lyrically.  Being only a pedestrian bass player and a sometimes drummer, I’ll keep my comments mostly to the lyrics.

The first radio single “Pork and Beans” has several layers.  Cuomo’s songwriting has simplified in one sense and matured in another.  Though initially dealing with the cult of cool, the song becomes a battle cry for those with eclectic taste:

“I’ll eat my candy with the pork and beans …”

After so many years of so-so albums (receiving commercial and fan criticism), it’s as if the band has settled on the idea that they shouldn’t be about others’ expectations.  Instead, they are opting for what is inspired.  And this album mostly is inspired.

“The Greatest Man that Ever Lived” is a fun and satirical romp through this very journey of trying (but failing) to please:

“After the havoc that I’m gonna wreak
No more words will critics have to speak
I’ve got the answers to the tangled knot
Sleep tight in your cot.

Oh baby,
I’ve been told I’m goin’ crazy.
Oh baby,
But I can’t be held down.
Oh baby,
Somehow I’m keeping it steady.
Oh baby,
I’m tearin up this town.”

And then the quintessential statement:

“I am the greatest man that ever lived
I was born to give and give and give.”

Now, I don’t think Rivers Cuomo is trying to lay claim to what can only belong to Jesus of Nazareth (or, who knows … maybe he is).  But, he understands that the gifts (of music) are his to give.  He’s not responsible for how the gift is received.

There’s a very deep theological statement there.  God gives all good things we need to follow and worship Christ.  It’s up to us to make that gift of grace responsible.  That is to say, it’s up to us to respond to the gift(s).

A reflection on years past weaves throughout the whole of this album.  On “Everybody Get Dangerous” we hear the confession:

“Hockey games on frozen ponds
No safety pads were ever put on
Drivin’ home on country roads
Sixty-five in a twenty-five zone
In my parents Tercel
How did we survive so well
Throw the keys and the wheel locked up
I almost killed every one us”

And the reflection poses a problem for the band, now responsible for their own children:

“What will we say when our kids come to us
And ask, with a smile on their face,
‘Hey Dad, my friend’s got some new ninja swords!
Is it cool if we slash up his place?’”

Oh, if only my 3-year old, Eliot, would only ask before embarking on his paths of destruction!  But the progression from college kid to father is evident.  The Weezer journey has paralleled my own.  Their first album in large part set the parameters for my college experience.

The Bonus version of the album has some very nice additions.  “The Spider” delves into a bit of existential angst with a twist:

“Cuz I’m in pain just like the spider
In the drain, I am a fighter
But I can’t win I’ve got to lose
Give me strength to see me through
And ease the pain that I must feel
As my bones break and I taste the steel
As I go down …the drain…
I’m insane”

The twist comes in the next song, “King:”

“You see I own this town. You best not come around.
If you wanna get by, then cool it down.
If you wanna start something, know one thing: I’m king.
If you wanna mess around like that, that’s just how it is.
If you wanna get by, then mind your biz.
If you wanna start something, know one thing: I’m king.”

Cuomo knows he’s only king in his own mind.  But aren’t we all?  It takes a daily effort of yielding to rely on something outside ourselves (in my case, Christ).

Perhaps, I should have titled this post “A Brief Look at the New Weezer Album and How I See Things That Went Into Writing the Songs Through My Theological Lens.”  But that’s a wordy title, don’t you think?

SO TELL ME SOMETHING:
Are you a Weezer fan?  What’s your take on their new album?

——

Brian Niece
www.brianniece.com
If you enjoyed this post, get free updates by email or RSS.