Tag Archives: Psalm 104

Season of Creation 2019: Sunday September 15 in Year C (Animal Sunday)

Wisdom leads us to change our relationships with our animal brothers and sisters in God’s creation.  Leah Schade reflects on the second Sunday in the Season of Creation.

Season of Creation Commentary on Wisdom in Creation

Readings for the Second Sunday (Animal), Season of Creation, Year C (2013, 2016, 2019, 2022) 

Job 39:1-8, 26-30
Psalm 104:14-23
1 Corinthians 1:10-23
Luke 12:22-31

Once again, wisdom is the byword for these passages in Scripture that open a conversation about what humans consider worth knowing and valuing in the world, especially regarding animals. These texts would be ideal for a Blessing the Animals Sunday where the congregation can be invited to bring their pets, farm animals, or pictures of their favorite creatures to the service. Consider having a soundtrack of animal noises in the background during the prelude or at key parts of the service, invoking the presence of our other-kind sisters and brothers in God’s Creation.

Both the passages in Job and Psalm 104 engage in a positive theology of nature wherein animals are not just passive receptors of God’s grace, but actively doing God’s work with their very existence. The processes of their life in the ecosystems God established testify to an enduring truth: God’s work never fails. What does fail, however, is human willingness to recognize the intrinsic value of the animals and plants who share our home on Earth. Too often animals are seen as nothing but our servants, entertainment, subjects of scientific experimentation, or food sources.

I once toured a “factory farm” that included warehouses of hundreds of turkey poults wandering motherless and shivering across sterile, hay-strewn concrete floors.  Outside were acres of large pens packed so tightly with young turkeys they could barely turn around, the scene reminiscent of dismal German concentration camps. When I asked the farmer whether it bothered him to see the turkeys in such a state, I received a blank look. These turkeys were nothing more than a cash crop for him, no different than the rows of genetically-modified corn stalks in his fields. He was not an evil man by any means, and in fact was a faithful member of a local church. But I had to wonder about the emotional disconnect the enabled him to ignore, deny, or otherwise not register the suffering of these animals in his care.

And then I had to wonder at my own emotional disconnect when I next went to the grocery store and picked up the sterile, plastic-wrapped package of turkey meat hanging from the thin metal prong in the refrigerated aisle. Which of the young turkeys huddled in the warehouse would I now feed to my children? All of a sudden, meat-buying became uncomfortable because of what I had come to know about the turkeys.

“Consider,” urges Jesus in Luke 12:22-31. It is Katanoeo, in Greek.  It means “perceive, remark, observe, understand, fix one’s eyes and attention on.” In Job 39, God asks the man if he “knows” about the animals in the world around him. It is Yada in Hebrew.  It means to “know, learn to know, use one’s mind, to be acquainted with.” The function of Wisdom in this week’s readings, then, is to help us to perceive God’s Creation in a way that is not self-serving, but self-decentering.  Preachers of these texts might consider sharing their own story of a time when they came to a point of uncomfortable awareness of the suffering their own purchasing decisions made when it comes to animals. Examples abound: seeing a YouTube video of chickens with their beaks cut off in tight cages; pictures of deformed dogs from “puppy mills” gone awry in the business of supplying pets; the conversation with the vegan who confronts us with their ethical reasons for refusing to eat meat.

The role of the Church in the twenty-first century, according to Thomas Berry, is to help shape a future that is based on human-Earth relations. “The future of the other two relations [human-divine and inter-human] depends upon this third relation, our human capacity to recognize our place in the structure of the universe and to fulfill our role within this setting” [Thomas Berry, Mary Evelyn Tucker, and John Grim, The Christian Future and the Fate of Earth (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 2009), 46-7]. Berry states that our “ultimate concern” must be “the integrity of the universe upon which the human depends in such an absolute manner” (p. 48). Berry coined the term “Ecozoic Era” to describe the period he would like to see emerge when humans “would be present to the planet in a mutually enhancing manner. We need to establish ourselves in a single integral community including all component members of planet Earth” (48-49).

This can only happen, says Berry, when humans come to see their place and role in the universe as completely dependent on the habitats, flora, and fauna of Earth, all of which have intrinsic value not dependent on human needs or wants. Accepting this limited role is the first, and most difficult, step that humans must take. The next step for healing the damaged planet is based on an operating principle of creating continuity between the human and the non-human in every aspect of human life, from institutions and professions to programs and activities. If these two steps are taken, Berry sees hope for humanity’s and the planet’s survival.

Of course, the world will see this kind of animal-ethics-activism by people of faith as “foolishness,” as Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians reminds us. The meat-processing corporations that profit obscenely from our addiction to meat would much rather have our Blessing the Animals service end with petting the pets and returning home for Sunday dinner complete with hormone-injected roast beef. Likewise, those in our congregations whose livings depend on our subjugation and consumption of animals for their livelihood will not take kindly to a heavy-handed “law” sermon that leaves the congregation with feelings of guilt for their sins against animals with no recourse to the Gospel.

So what would God’s grace look like for human and animal in this sermon? For me, it came from a vegetarian friend who once gave me an option between giving up meat and completely throwing up my hands in frustrated despair at my own meat-aholism. “Just try one day a week without eating meat,” she suggested. A meat Sabbath! A day of rest for my body from having to process protein.  A day to eat lower on the food chain. A day when one animal will not have to die in order for me to live.

Wisdom spoke through my friend that day, I recalled, as I stood before the plastic-wrapped turkey on the metal prong.  I pulled my cart away, and turned back to the produce aisle.

 

For additional care for creation reflections on the overall themes of the lectionary lessons for the month by Trisha K Tull, Professor Emerita of Old Testament, Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary and columnist for The Working Preacher, visit: http://www.workingpreacher.org/columnist_home.aspx?author_id=288

Season of Creation 2019: Sunday September 8 in Year C (Ocean Sunday)

Wisdom teaches that what God has gathered up in Christ, we humans should make healthy, free from toxins, cleaned of trash, and restored to abundance. Leah Schade reflects on the first Sunday in the Season of Creation.

Season of Creation Commentary on Wisdom in Creation  

Readings for the First Sunday (Ocean), Year C (2013, 2016, 2019, 2022)

Job 38:1-18
Psalm 104:1-9, 24-26
Ephesians 1:3-10
Luke 5:1-11

As we begin a sermon series on Wisdom as the force of creativity behind Creation and the energy that enables the human and other-than-human members of the Earth community to fulfill their roles, it will be helpful to provide the congregation with a framework within which to understand the concept of Wisdom.  Elizabeth Johnson’s work in She Who Is and Women, Earth and Creator Spirit is one possibility for such a framework.  She suggests that Sophia, the female personification of Holy Wisdom, can and should be the lens through which the Trinity is viewed, as well as the language through which we speak and hear about God.  Thus she coins the terms “Spirit-Sophia,” “Jesus-Sophia,” and “Mother-Sophia” as an alternative Trinitarian formulation, which places Wisdom/Sophia not in a subordinate position, but as the controlling metaphor.

Johnson believes that the power of the Woman Wisdom image may enable contemporary women and other oppressed and marginalized members of the human community to move beyond the restrictions of patriarchal circumscriptions and realize their power to effect change for themselves, Earth, and their children.  According to Johnson, the Church is the most obvious candidate for modeling what it means to answer Wisdom’s call to undergo transformative attention to those most vulnerable, including the species, habitats, and human beings most threatened by oppression, and to take responsibility for the health and respectful treatment of all Creation.

Applying this Sophia/Wisdom framework to the readings for this Sunday yields interesting points of entry for preaching.  For example, Psalm 104:24 states that “in wisdom” (hokmah in Hebrew) God created the earth.  Johnson reminds us that not only is the grammatical gender of the word for wisdom feminine in Hebrew, but “the biblical portrait of Wisdom is consistently female, casting her as sister, mother, female beloved, chef and hostess, teacher, preacher, maker of justice, and a host of other women’s roles.  In every instance, Wisdom symbolizes transcendent power pervading and ordering the world, both nature and human beings, interacting with them all to lure them onto the path of life,” (Women, Earth and Creator Spirit, p. 51).

Wisdom, then, has many roles to play in God’s ongoing Creation, working alongside Jesus and the Holy Spirit to enliven, restore, teach and bring justice to our world.  In the reading from Luke, for example, we see an example of the way in which elements of Earth become Jesus’ teaching partner.  When Jesus tells Peter to let down his net into the lake of Gennesaret, Peter protests, saying in effect that their entire fishing trip had yielded nothing to that point—so what difference would it make now?  Yet when Peter acquiesces and follows Jesus’ command, the amount of fish in the net is so large they need the nearby boats to come haul it in. The waters and the fish play an important didactic role in teaching Peter and the others that God’s power and abundance never cease to surprise us, gracing us beyond all expectations.

But the reality that also needs to be stated in a sermon is that if Peter should let down his nets in open waters today, most likely his haul would be significantly compromised.  Overfishing would result in smaller and fewer fish.  And the nets would be heavy, not from aquatic life but from a disgusting array of trash, poisons, and toxic waste.  Simply enter the words “trash in the ocean” on http://images.google.com/ to see (and perhaps show the congregation during the sermon?) pictures of floating islands of trash both on the surface and below the water.  Human waste chokes and poisons marine life in ways that cause immense suffering that most of us never see, nor want to face.

Jesus’ teaching on the Gennesaret Sea is not just a metaphor for how the Kingdom of God will manifest itself.  That teachable moment has important significance for this particular time of ecological destruction, because it shows us that the very illustration that Jesus uses—the basic, natural and life-giving phenomenon of fish thriving in a healthy aquatic ecosystem—that very process is under threat of annihilation.  This is a troubling, but accurate reframing of the Gennesaret fishing expedition for today’s world.  Admittedly, it will be difficult for a congregation to hear.

But just as Jesus’ teaching ministry in first century Palestine was meant to shake people up and get them thinking about things in a new way so that they could hear the Gospel clearly, so must our teaching and preaching today include the Good News.  We hear so many examples of what human beings are doing to desecrate the Earth, it is important for us—especially as Christians who proclaim a theology of the cross that reminds us that God shows up in the last place you would think to look—to proclaim the Good News about what God is doing to restore the oceans, seas, rivers and streams, especially as they connect to the human and other-than-human lives around and within them.

In Job 38:1-18, we notice that the words “knowledge,” “know,” “comprehend” and “understanding” are prominent in God’s questions to Job.  Realizing how little we truly know and understand about Creation helps to humble the arrogance and hubris of the human. Part of our calling as Creation-Care-Christians is to devote ourselves to learning about the ecosystems that sustain us. Congregations can host speakers and fairs that highlight local watersheds, lead trash clean-up events through local waterways, and write letters asking legislators and corporations to propose and support better waste management practices and policies.

The Christological statement of faith made by Paul in Ephesians 1:3-10 tells us that it is specifically through Jesus Christ that wisdom (Sophia in Greek) and insight (phroneisis in Greek) help us to understand the mysteries that once were closed to us.  And what is it that we are being enabled to comprehend?  It is that God is “gathering up all things in Christ, things in heaven and things on earth,” (v. 10).  Our preaching can echo this proclamation that Christ continues to gather up all things into himself.  And we humans can continue the good work of seeing that what is gathered up is healthy, free from toxins, cleaned of trash, and restored to abundance.

For additional care for creation reflections on the overall themes of the lectionary lessons for the month by Trisha K Tull, Professor Emerita of Old Testament, Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary and columnist for The Working Preacher, visit: http://www.workingpreacher.org/columnist_home.aspx?author_id=288

 

Holy Trinity Sunday in Year C (Ormseth)

What if we thought of Christ as Wisdom, God’s playmate who leads us into joyful dance?

Care for Creation Commentary on the Common Lectionary—Year C by Dennis Ormseth

Reading for Series C (2013, 2016, 2019, 2022)

Holy Trinity Sunday in Year C
First Sunday after Pentecost
Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31
Psalm 8 (2)
Romans 5:1-5
John 16:12-15

In this Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus’ promise of truth to come hardly forecasts the bitterly conflicted history of development of doctrine of the Trinity. As Robert Wilken writes, “how the trinitarian religion of the Bible, the liturgy, and the early creeds was to be expressed in light of the biblical teaching that God is one provoked a fervent and prolonged debate that occupied the church’s most gifted thinkers for two centuries” (Robert Louis Wilken, The Spirit of Early Christian Thought. New Haven:  Yale University Press, 2003, p.83). The readings appointed for this Sunday do both exhibit that religion as it came to expression in the writings of the New Testament, however, and provide significant markers for the debate that followed. The Gospel sets out the relationship between Jesus, his Father, and the Spirit of truth upon which the promise itself is grounded: communication between the three of them will lead to glorification of Jesus and reception of the whole truth of the Father among Jesus’ followers (John 16:12-15). Similarly, in the reading from Romans 5, the saving grace of “peace with God” comes to the hearts of those justified by faith, into whose hearts “God’s love has been poured . . through the Holy Spirit.”  These readings represent a recital of the relationships within the Trinity set out in the readings last week for the Day of Pentecost.

The Old Testament readings, on the other hand, represent sources of conflict in the development of Trinitarian doctrine. A footnote in the NRSV reminds us that the heavens of the ancient world were populated by divine beings of diverse kinds and varying status, in Hebrew the elohim, or as commonly translated in English, “the divine beings or angels.” Their existence raised for the church the question framed later by the great historian of Christian doctrine, Adolf von Harnack: “Is the divine that has appeared on earth and reunited man with God identical with the supreme divine, which rules heaven and earth, or is it a demigod?” (Jaroslav Pelikan, The Emergence of the Catholic Tradition (100-600). Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1971; p. 172). And the answer of the theologians of the church hung largely on the interpretation of our first reading from Proverbs 8.

What was at stake in the interpretation of Proverbs 8 is far more complicated than we can review here. We are concerned to show only how that debate brings into play (an apt metaphor, as we shall see) further development of the particular understanding of creation which the readings for the Day of Pentecost brought forward a week ago. Jaroslav Pelikan argues that while early on in the encounter with pagan thought, the “Spirit Christology” of the New Testament, which we encountered in those readings, sufficed to more precise definitions were needed. The concept of the Logos, together with the title of “the Son,” began to supersede in importance all earlier usages. Rather remarkably, however, Proverbs 8:22-31 figured even more significantly in this development than John 1-14 (Pelikan, p. 186). As Robert Wilken observes, because the New Testament identified Christ with Wisdom (e.g., 1: Cor. 1:24), references to the figure of Wisdom were deemed instructive concerning the existence of Christ prior to his incarnation. “Read in light of the Resurrection those passages from the Old Testament that depicted the activity of Wisdom helped Christian thinkers to fill out what it meant to call Christ God” (Wilken, p. 95). Faced with the challenge of the creation-negating movement of Marcion and other gnostics, theologians used Proverbs 8 to argue that Christ as Logos provided a correlation between the creation and redemption, as can be seen in our reading, where Wisdom says, “when he marked out the foundations of the earth, then I was beside him, like a master worker; and I was daily his delight, rejoicing before him always, rejoicing in his inhabited world and delighting in the human race” (Proverbs 8:29-31).

In the subsequent conflict with the Arians, however, use of Proverbs 8 to explicate the divine in Jesus became highly problematic. The Arians used 8:22, “The Lord created me at the beginning of his work, the first of his acts of long ago” to argue that the Logos was subordinate to the Father, and accordingly not fully divine, being himself a creature; combined with the words of Hebrews 1:4, the passage could be seen to assign the Son of God to the “category of the angels, although, to be sure, he was preeminent among them” (Pelikan, p. 197). The Arians’ chief interest here was in preserving, in Pelikan’s words,

. . . an uncompromising view of divine transcendence.  No action of God, neither the creation of the world nor the generation of the Logos, could be interpreted in such a way as to support the notion that “the Father had deprived himself of what he possesses in an ungenerated way within himself, for he is the source of everything.” God was “the monad and the principle of creation of all things,” and he did not share this with anyone, not even with the Logos.  Any other conception of God would, according to Arius, make the Father “composite and divisible and mutable and a body” (Pelikan, p. 194).

It was an a priori of the Arian position that God must at all costs be represented in such a way that he did not suffer the changes affecting a body. This meant that God in his transcendent being had to be kept aloof from any involvement with the world of becoming. His “unoriginated and unmitigated essence” transcended the real of created and changeable things so totally that there was not, and ontologically could not be, a direct point of contact between them. Such a total transcendence was necessary not only for the sake of the utter oneness of God, but also because of the fragility of creatures, who “could not endure to be made by the absolute hand of the Unoriginate” (Pelikan, p. 195).

God the creator was accordingly seen to be of an essentially different nature from this lessor divine, the angelic Logos, and the link between creation and redemption in the being of the Logos, so important to the faith, was severed.

In response, the orthodox teachers of the church rebutted the Arian interpretation of Proverbs 8:22 by arguing that the word “created,” as applied to Wisdom in Proverbs 8:22, had to be taken in the sense of “begotten,not made.” Indeed, this is how the relationship came to be defined in the creed promulgated at the council of Nicea in 325: Christ was to be confessed as begotten from the Father, only-begotten, that is, from the ousia of the Father, God from God, light from light, true God from true God, begotten not made, homoousios with the Father, through whom all things came into being, things in heaven and things on earth, who for the sake of us men [sic] and for the purpose of our salvation came down and became incarnate, becoming man [sic], suffered and rose again on the third day (Pelikan, p. 201).

What particularly interests us here is that in making this argument, the theologians rescued for the church not only the teaching of the true divine in Christ, but also re-secured the linkage between creation and redemption. They contradicted the Arian teaching of the eternal and radical transcendence of God in relationship to the creation. Christ, they insisted, was of the same being as the creator of all things, even though he “came down and became incarnate, becoming man [sic], suffered and rose again on the third day.”

As they did this, moreover, they also rescued for the church the relevance for future believers of Proverbs 8:22-31. So it is that we can read the passage this Sunday not simply as exhibit A in an ancient and bitter controversy, but as instruction for the faithful about the relation and the activity of the triune God in creation. With William P. Brown, our guide in last week’s comment to the creational significance of Psalm 104 in relationship to the gift to the church of the Holy Spirit, to lead us again, we turn to the teaching about creation contained in the text. Like Psalm 104, Proverbs 8:22-31 is one of “seven pillars of creation” on the basis of which Brown builds a comprehensive view of the Bible’s teaching about creation. Indeed, there is striking consonance between these two “pillars:” the “joyful” and even “playful” God of the psalm would be entirely at home in the cosmic “playhouse” of Brown’s interpretation of Proverbs 8. While the sayings of Wisdom cover both “the ethical ideals that promote the communal good and the personal ideals that promote individual standing within the community,” with “reverence of the creator as its starting point,” the search for wisdom is particularly “oriented toward the created order.” Wisdom, observes Brown, is instrumental in the creation of the cosmos; it is reflected in creation’s integrity and intelligibility. The sages discerned order, beauty, and wonder within the natural world. For them, the wisdom by which God established creation, the wisdom reflected in nature, is the same wisdom found in the bustling marketplace, city gates, and street corners. In Proverbs, cosmic Wisdom makes her home in the day-to-day world of human intercourse (Brown, Seven Pillars of Creation:   The Bible, Science, and the Ecology of Wonder. Oxford:  Oxford University Press, 2010; p. 163).

According to Wisdom, “Every step and facet of creation is graced by Wisdom’s joyful presence. She is ever-present physically ‘beside’ God before, during, and after creation. She is preeminently alive as much as she is uniquely engendered. Wisdom is life in principium” (Brown, p. 166). Strikingly, her role corresponds well with that of Leviathan in Psalm 104: she is always to be found at play.

Wisdom remains a player throughout, and her play serves double duty. Wisdom’s activity engages both God and the world in the mutuality of play, holding creator and creation together through the common bond of delight. She is no child left inside. Rather, she is let loose in creation to explore and play. Wisdom is

. . . “delight” of the world. . . Wisdom’s hymn is in itself a tangible testimony to her continued delight in creation and in God. She is God’s full partner in play, and creation is hers to enjoy.  Wisdom is no mere instrument of God’s creative abilities; she is more than an attribute, divine or otherwise (cf. 3:19). Wisdom is fully alive, interdependent and interactive with God and the world.  All the world was made for her, and her delight affirms it all (Brown, p. 166).

Like God’s joy in Psalm 104, Wisdom’s delight “makes possible the world’s flourishing.” She “informs humanity’s role and place in the world .  . . .  Her position in the world sets the context and catalyst for those who desire to grow in wisdom . . . . And so all the world’s a stage for Wisdom’s play” (Brown, p. 167). “Playing in the streets, playing in the cosmos: such is Wisdom’s vocation. Born of wonder, Wisdom’s play shapes and sustains the just community, her beloved community. Wisdom’s homage to God and to creation highlights the inhabitable and, hence, political (from polis, “city”) nature of the cosmos, a world full of fully-living agents, all thriving and playing together (Brown, p. 168)

In Browns view the cosmos is a playhouse to be enjoyed by Wisdom. This teaching about creation, he thinks, ought to find resonance with the best thinking outside the church. “The psalmist trembles before the vastness of the universe,” he notes, referring to Psalm 8:1-3. And “like the ancients, many scientists admit to being struck by an overwhelming sense of wonder—even ‘sacredness’—about nature and the cosmos.” “The need to engage science and biblical faith” he rightly insists, “has never been more urgent.” We desperately need a new way in the world that is both empirically and biblically credible.” Specifically, with respect to Wisdom’s hymn in Proverbs 8, he has in view the physical theory of quantum mechanics. “Wisdom’s all-encompassing play,” he observes, “interconnects all creation, dynamically so” in much the same way as “quantum entanglement” of quantum theory does.” “More fundamental,” he adds, “Wisdom’s ‘play’ resonates with the quirkiness of the subatomic level of reality, where uncertainty is the name of the game. Wisdom’s’ subatomic dance is more improvisational than choreographed” and “amid these two contrastive levels, of play and stability, a certain ‘historical’ primacy is evident.” Just so, “in the beginning was playful Wisdom, just as one could say about the birth of the cosmos” (Brown, p. 170). It follows that we live in an open universe, characterized not only by genetic adaptation but ever more powerfully by intelligent learning, which with its capacity for “multiple representations of the world” is able to resolve social conflict and foster cultural innovation (Brown, p. 173). What the biblical concept of wisdom adds to this is “religious and moral valuation:” Wisdom seeks both the common good and the common God; it fosters reverence of the creator of all and cultivates “justice, righteousness, and equity.” (1:3). Wisdom is as fully emotive as she is cognitive. It is by her that kings rule and children play (Prov. 8:15-16, 30-31) (Brown, pp. 173-74).

As we saw in the readings for the Day of Pentecost, we are called to engage in the reorientation that the Spirit promotes in the worship of the Christian community. As in the case of God and Leviathan in Psalm 104, Brown concludes,

Play requires partnership, and Wisdom has two partners: God and creation. Her world is more relational than referential. Who else, in addition to the “offspring of adam,” occupies creation for the sake of Wisdom’s delight?  Frolicking coneys, roaring lions, breaching whales, and flapping ostriches? They, too, inhabit creation, and thus have a right to play.  And then there is God, with whom Wisdom shares a particularly intimate relationship.  As God’s partner is play, she is “beside” the creator of all as she is beside herself in joy. (Brown, p. 176).

What if the church, following the lead of the ancient church’s theologians and under the guidance of the Spirit, were to begin to think of its Christ as Wisdom, God’s playmate, who leads us into joyful dance? What would happen if in our worship we celebrated with him/her the establishment of righteousness in a world that is an absolute delight to God, a world that God cannot get enough of, and cannot let go of? Here is Brown’s proposal:

God so loved the world that God gave daughter Wisdom, so that everyone who plays with her may gain enlightened life. Proverbs boldly claims that human beings exist not for themselves but for Wisdom, specifically for her play and enrichment. Yet, reciprocally, Wisdom’s play nurtures and enriches all conscious life. Her play is mutually edifying, and there are no losers, except those who refuse her invitation or simply quit, much to their impoverishment. Wisdom’s play, moreover, is no otherworldly, mystical exercise. Both Proverbs and Psalms declare God creating the world in and by wisdom (Ps 104:24; Prov. 3:19). However, more than creation’s intelligibility, more than its orderliness is meant, as science so powerfully demonstrates. Creation in wisdom reflects its joie de vivre, a vitality reflected in its interactive, self-regulatory, life-sustaining processes.

       Creation according to Proverbs is made for Wisdom’s play, and to play is to discover and cherish creation made in wisdom. It is what scientists do best in their quest to understand the wonders of creation. It is what people of faith do best in their quest to cherish and care for creation. (Brown, p. 237).

For additional care for creation reflections on the overall themes of the lectionary lessons for the month by Trisha K Tull, Professor Emerita of Old Testament, Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary and columnist for The Working Preacher, visit: http://www.workingpreacher.org/columnist_home.aspx?author_id=288

The Day of Pentecost in Year C (Ormseth)

God’s love of life and delight in creation should serve as a model for humanity’s role in the world.

Care for Creation Commentary on the Common Lectionary—Year C by Dennis Ormseth

Reading for Series C (2013, 2016, 2019, 2022)

Day of Pentecost in Year C
Acts 2:1–21 or Genesis 11:1–9
Psalm 104:24–34, 35b (30)
Romans 8:14–17 or Acts 2:1–21
John 14:8–17 [25–27]

Acts 2:1-21 and Psalm 104:24-34, 35b are coupled for reading on the Day of Pentecost in all three years of the lectionary cycle. In addition, as in year B, the second lesson is from Romans 8. Our comments in this series on the readings for Day of Pentecost in Year A, and especially in Year B are accordingly helpful background for appropriating the care of creation dimension of the readings for this festival Sunday.  As we noted there, Arthur Walker-Jones characterizes the psalm, “one of the longest creation passages” in the Bible, as a portrayal of the “direct, unmediated, and intimate relationship of God with all creatures.” In as much as “God is the spirit of life in all creation,” there is no need for mediation by either King or temple, because God’s presence “is as close to every creature as the air they breathe” (See our comment on Day of Pentecost, Year A; the quotation from Walker Jones is from his The Green Psalter, p. 120). “First in Jesus,” we suggested, “then in the Spirit of Jesus, access to God is open everywhere” (See our comment on Day of Pentecost, Year B). Once again, the significance of this universal availability of God’s presence will not be lost on those who have followed our argument concerning the displacement of the Jerusalem temple as the locus where heaven meets earth onto Jesus, as key to understanding how the narrative concerning Jesus comes to provide fundamental orientation to creation.

The second reading from Romans 8:14-17 provides the bridge from that universal presence of the Spirit to God’s care for all creation. As we also noted in our comment on the Day of Pentecost for Year B, Romans 8 is embedded in a major Pauline narrative according to which the hope for creation is focused on the “moment of the revelation of the sons/children of God.” As David Horrell, Cherryl Hunt, and Christopher Southgate argue in their Greening Paul: Rereading the Apostle in a Time of Ecological Crisis,  Romans 8 is “a particularly developed and powerful depiction” of the Pauline narrative of “a process, decisively begun yet still to be worked out through suffering and struggle (e.g., Phil 3:10-14; cf. also Col 1:24)” with “its insistence that it is only in conformity to the sufferings of Christ that a sharing in his glory and inheritance is attained (8:17).” The children of God are leading characters of the narrative, they argue, since it is their liberation on which that of creation depends and onto which the hopes of creation are focused. Thus are the children of God “led by the spirit of God,” “heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ—if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him (Romans 8:14, 17)” are crucial agents for the progression of the story of creation from groaning to freedom (Horrell, Hunt and Southgate, Greening Paul.  Waco, Texas: Baylor University Press, 2010; p. 83).

Read in the context of this narrative of liberation, a key insight to be drawn from the readings for the Day of Pentecost in Year C is that while the Spirit who is the source of the church’s life is clearly the Spirit of Christ, that Spirit is also the Spirit of the Creator of all things. The reading from John asserts the identity of Jesus with the Father, an identity that is revealed more in his works than in his being (John 14:11) (Cf. Raymond E. Brown, The Gospel of John XIII-XXI. New York: Doubleday, 1970; p. 632). But the works of the Father, Psalm 140 reminds us, are “manifold” (v.24)—all that the psalmist has listed out in his first twenty-three verses. And as v. 30 expresses so smartly, if poetically these works are to the benefit of all creation:  ‘When you send forth your spirit, they”—i.e. “your creations,” “living things both small and great (vv. 24, 25)—are created, and you renew the face of the ground” (v. 30.) The psalm, in other words, praises God for both creation and the restoration of creation, sounding a great theme for the day, to be sure, but also for the ongoing life of the church, living, as it must, by the creative power of the Spirit.

Following an argument of Walter Brueggemann in his Theology of the Old Testament, we saw earlier in this series of comments on Year C that the worship of God in biblical perspective provides right orientation to creation. For Israel, Brueggemann suggests, the context within which the generosity of creation can be received and enhanced” is public worship. Creation should not be “understood as a theory or an intellectual, speculative notion, but as a concrete life-or-death discipline and practice, whereby the peculiar claims of Yahweh were mediated in and to Israel.” While “creation” may thus be an experience of the world, ‘in a context where the world is experienced as not good, orderly, or generative, Israel has recourse to the counter-experience of creation in worship.” Worship in the temple, Brueggeman urges, “permitted Israelites who gave themselves fully over to the drama and claims of the creation liturgy to live responsible, caring, secure, generative, and (above all) sane lives, in circumstances that severely discouraged such resolved living” (Brueggemann, Theology of the Old Testament. Minneapolis:  Fortress Press. 1997; pp. 533-34).

The repeated use of Psalm 104 as the psalm for the Day of Pentecost affirms that this understanding holds true also for the new community of Christ. Indeed, the act of reciting the psalm serves to transmit the capacity for restoration of the relationship between the children of God and God’s creation from the worship of Israel to the worship of the church. The psalm is itself an act of worship that models this reorientation. As William P. Brown shows in his excellent book, Psalm 104 presents the creation “not from the creator’s perspective but from the creature’s, specifically from the standpoint of Homo laudans, ‘the praising human.’” With poetic energy, the psalm “bursts at the seams with joy as it celebrates creation’s manifold nature,” moving from a delineation of ‘the broad structures or domains of creation” to “detail various life forms and their habitations.” Descending from the “divine realm (vv. 1-4 to the earthly domain, including the watery depths (vv. 6-9, 25-26) and the land (vv. 10-18), the psalmist emphasizes “God’s provision for all life (vv.27-30; cf. Gen 1:29-30)” (Brown, The Seven Pillars of Creation. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010; p. 144).

Psalm 104, Brown shows, can be particularly effective in the church’s response to the global ecological crisis. The psalm stands alongside Genesis 1:1-2:3 and five other major texts (Genesis 2:4b-3:24, Job 38-41, Proverbs 8:22-31, Ecclesiastes 1;2-11; 12:1-7, and Isaiah 40-55) as pillars on which biblical teaching on creation can be aligned with contemporary biological science and an ecological ethic. The “most extensive creation psalm in the Bible,” Brown suggests, significantly shades its praise of God by recognition of the existence of suffering and evil in the creation. “The psalm acknowledges the ever-resent possibility of famine (v. 29), as well as earthquake and volcanic activity. It’s “wide-eyed wonder over nature’s goodness and God’s grace” is balanced by recognition that “a dark cloud looms on the horizon.” “After celebrating the sheer diversity of life, the psalmist exhorts God to vanquish the wicked.” Often considered a blemish on a perfect poem, this aspect of the psalm made sense for the ancient listener “in a less than perfect world;” “By cursing the wicked, the psalmist transfers the evil chaos traditionally assigned to mythically monstrous figures such as Leviathan and places it squarely on human shoulders. Conflict in creation, the psalmist acknowledges, is most savage among the distinctly human beasts.” This “grim petition” thus. . . rescues the psalm from seeing the world through rose-colored spectacles. The psalmist acknowledges, moreover, both predator and prey.  Here is an authentic assessment of creation as it stands, not as it once was in some pristine state or as it will be in future fulfillment. It is a world in which the purveyors of chaos are not mythically theriomorphic—monsters made in the image of animals—but monstrously human.

Consistent with Brueggemann’s description of the function of worship in relationship to a “world experienced as not good,” the psalmist “aims not to provide information about how the world works but to motivate the reader to praise God and . . . to sustain God’s joy in creation (v. 31b)” (Brown, Seven Pillars, p. 145).

In the verses that precede our reading, the psalm presents a complex sketch of the “character of creation.” Light is viewed not as the first act of creation but rather as an attribute of God: “every dawn could be construed as an act of self-clothing.” The unfurling of the fabric of the heaven “is tantamount to ‘clothing’ that God cannot afford simply to shed without donning something new. No naked God is the creator. According to the psalmist, creation is not God’s body, but neither is it disposable rags.” This intimacy of God’s participation in creation is reflected also with respect to the waters: divine action to restrain them (vv. 7-9) “makes possible the provision of flowing streams for quenching thirst, providing habitation, and ensuring the earth’s fertility. The combination of stream and soil results in the provision of life and enjoyment.” Amidst the fulsome reference to animal creatures, trees are prized here not for the lumber required for human empire but rather for the hospitality they provide for birds. So also God “provides drink to the wild animals” (v. 11), “waters the mountains” and “the trees” (vv. 13, 16), causes “grass to grow for the cattle” (v. 14), provides bread, wine, and oil for human beings (v. 15, and supplies “prey for the lions” (v. 21) as well as food for all creatures “in due time” (v. 27). God’s “open hand” and “renewing breath” are evocative images of such provision (v. 28) (Seven Pillars, pp. 145, 146).

Thus, Brown concludes, “the earth is not just ‘habitat for humanity’ but habitat for diversity.” The psalm “views creation in thoroughly eco-centric terms; the earth is created to accommodate myriad creatures great and small, people included. The earth is host and home to all living kind, and as such it is a source of joy.” The joy creation gives to its Creator is perhaps the most striking aspect of this reading. “Novel to this biblical psalm,” Brown urges, “is the claim that creation is sustained not by God’s covenantal commitment but by God’s unabashed joy.” “The solemn formulation of self-restraining order” of covenantal fidelity is replaced here by “joy-filled poetry of praise.” Consequently, the “psalmist’s commendation of divine joy in v. 31b smacks of urgency. By ceasing to rejoice, God could at any moment turn creation back into a quivering mass of chaos.” Enter a new role for Leviathan, the monster of the deep: “more than any other creation” Leviathan elicits “God’s rapturous joy.” With no hint of animosity in the relationship, “Leviathan is God’s playmate!” Indeed, the monster. . . brings out God’s playful side.  But godly play is no isolated moment in God’s engagement with the world. To the contrary, it supports all creation.  Play makes for creativity. Were this monster of the deep to resume its traditional role as primordial adversary, then God’s delight would cease and the ancient script of chaos battle (Chaoskampf) would be replayed. The joy of play would be replaced with violent struggle, like children turning an innocent game of cops and robbers into something far too serious (Seven Pillars, pp. 149-150).

Humanity, take note: “From the psalmist’s perspective, it is the ‘wicked’ who refuse to play and choose instead to struggle against God and the created order. They are the purveyors of chaos, not Leviathan.” “ As the choirmaster of praise, the psalmist calls readers to take on humanity’s true nature not simply as Homo sapiens but as Homo laudans, the praising human, in the hope that God remains the Deus ludens, the God who plays to sustain creation” (Seven Pillars, p. 151). At home in an earth “uncannily fit for life”  but threatening the very diversity that God so enjoys, humanity risks . . . destroying precisely that which the psalmist celebrates and commends to God’s enjoyment: habitats and their diverse inhabitants. By eliminating habitat and inhabitant, we are diminishing creation’s rich diversity, reducing creation to one big godforsaken bore and in so doing, turning God’s “Joy to the World” in God’s grief for the world (Seven Pillars, pp. 158-159).

With the sixth great extinction of earth’s biological species looming on the horizon of earth’s future, we might suggest, the tongues of fire of the Pentecost experience take on new meaning. Marks of divine love, they signal that God’s biophilia [love of life] should serve as a model for humanity’s role and presence in the world:

[T]o feed the flame of biophilia, both God’s and ours, we must preserve and sustain creation’s biodiversity.  If Leviathan falls, then so do we all. If creation’s wondrous variety is diminished, then the psalmist’s worst fear is realized: creation left to wither away. It is incumbent upon God’s most powerful creatures to ensure that divine delight is sustained so that the world be sustained. As long as the psalmist rejoices in God and God rejoices in creation, the delight shared between creator and creature continues to sustain the world (Seven Pillars, p. 159).

With the worship of the church on the Day of Pentecost and after, it does continue!

For additional care for creation reflections on the overall themes of the lectionary lessons for the month by Trisha K Tull, Professor Emerita of Old Testament, Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary and columnist for The Working Preacher, visit: http://www.workingpreacher.org/columnist_home.aspx?author_id=288