Water, Water, Everywhere
Commentary
I apologize if you’re living in one of the areas recently hit by unprecedented storms, but as one who comes from the west (I now live in the Midwest) where dry weather alternates with conditions of flash flooding, I learned early on that you can’t argue with water. You don’t drive into water. You don’t try to walk across a river. And those hidden undertow currents in the ocean can drag the hardiest swimmer out to sea.
Water is wonderful. Water is the staff of life. We’re mostly water. But water is chaos.
In some ancient mythologies the waters of chaos threaten to undo everything that the gods created. It seems as if many ancient faiths included a flood narrative. In the ancient Sumerian epic, Gilgamesh seeks out Utnapishtim, the only immortal mortal, who describes a flood let loose by the gods that they discover they cannot control nor stop. The god Enki is able to save only Utnapishtim, his wife, his family, and some of the animals by instructing him to build a boat called “The Preserver of Life.”
By contrast, Genesis begins with God controlling the waters. The Spirit of God moves over the face of the abyss and conquers the two Canaanite gods of chaos — tohu and bohu, known also as formless and void. God hems in the waters with land and the firmament. And in the flood narrative, God turns on the water and God turns it off. Chaos is dangerous. The waters are dangerous. But God controls the waters. Go controls the universe. God controls chaos. Not the other way around.
Genesis 9:8-17
In the First Reading, God considers our different ways of seeing the universe to make sure we understand — there’s not going to be a worldwide flood anymore. God twice states that there is not going to be another great flood. When there is no reply from Noah, God gives the visual sign of the rainbow as a continued reminder that God’s bow is unstrung.
Poet/translator Robert Alter makes this point in his edition of the Hebrew Scriptures. As I reflect on this insight, I’m reminded of what are referred to as the multiple intelligences — there are at least eight different ways of being smart, and they are all legitimate, yet we often only address on or two kinds of intelligences when we share the good news. As one who has written Christian education curricula, I was taught to not only address the visual intelligence, what we might call book smarts, which is what kids encounter much of the week in school, but also remember that people have musical intelligence, mechanical intelligence, and mathematical intelligence. Some work well in groups. Others work better alone. Some interpret the world through nature. Look it up. The thing is God speaks to us through our many different intelligences. Do we? Some people have artistic intelligence, but are we ready to communicate through art — or do we expect everyone to get it when we speak from the pulpit? Do we only use one kind of music? How is the gospel preached in our church gardens? Are small groups available for those who learn better than way?
Sometimes we don’t articulate the gospel through these other intelligences. We think, people already know God loves them. Do they? God spoke clearly to Noah twice, then spoke through the art splashed through the prism of the sky.
1 Peter 3:18-22
Then there’s the Second Reading. What is scripture telling us here? Once again, the waters of chaos are recalled, as well as the trauma of the flood. The apostle may be taking a side step, recalling the Nephilim of Genesis 6:1-4, the fallen angels who crossed sexual boundaries and the tangled storytelling only hinted in this fragment of the traditions of ancient Israel. The pseudepigraphal books of Enoch and Jubilees, which didn’t make the cut into the canon, spoke about these spirits imprisoned after the great rebellion, and the flood which followed when Noah, his spouse, his sons, and their spouses, were preserved above the waters. Our baptism, the apostle states, is similar in that we too are saved from the chaos of the waters.
And yet, and yet, there’s still the mystery of Jesus preaching after his death to the spirits in prison. I don’t want to build too much on this, except this image is undeniably here, as well as in other places in scripture, the hint that it’s not over until God says it’s over, and if it is God’s intention to release any captives, it will be done, even if it seems impossible to us, through Jesus.
Mark 1:9-15
Portions of the first chapter of Mark appear in the lectionary three times in close succession: the Second Sunday of Advent (1:1-8), the Third Sunday after the Epiphany (1:14-20), and here, in the First Sunday of Lent (Mark 1:9-15). There is some overlap here, but the Lenten focus is the affirmation of God after the baptism of Jesus before the temptation, the arrest of John, and the beginning of the earthly ministry. Jesus lives in chaotic times, but God’s will is fulfilled.
It begins with the baptism. There is no need for baptismal controversy here. All forms of baptism are legitimate, in my opinion, since it is an outward symbol of an inward change. However, one must not forget that the Greek word baptidzo means immersion, as in washing your clothes and washing your dishes. One does not simply sprinkle water on dirty clothes or dirty dishes and expect them to get clean. Jesus is fully immersed in those waters of chaos and like the eight who survive the flood. Jesus emerges from this immersion fully prepared to inaugurate the new age. Regardless of the temptations and tribulations — and nowhere is it suggested in scripture that surrendering to God means freedom from difficulties — Jesus is equipped to handle whatever comes his way — even death by crucifixion.
Full Disclosure — these next two paragraphs are taken from Charting the Course for January 21, the Third Sunday of Epiphany. Let them inform your thinking, but don’t quote these words exactly if you’ve already used these thoughts a few weeks ago!
“The kingdom of God has come near, Jesus says. (and here I’m translating) “The season is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is near — (near to us physically, near as in “still on the way but getting closer!”) Change your minds and believe in the good news.”
“The Greek word kairos refers not to chronological time, but the change in a season, a way of saying the times, they are a changing! It has started, we’re not finished, but it’s happening, right now. The nearness of the kingdom of God means it’s all around us, and we’re living it, but it’s not actually quite physically present with us — yet! Repenting is not simply the rejection of what happened in the past. It’s a turning around (something like the Hebrew word shuv, used for the same purpose), a change in orientation and direction, the beginning of a journey back to where we belonged all along.”
Water is wonderful. Water is the staff of life. We’re mostly water. But water is chaos.
In some ancient mythologies the waters of chaos threaten to undo everything that the gods created. It seems as if many ancient faiths included a flood narrative. In the ancient Sumerian epic, Gilgamesh seeks out Utnapishtim, the only immortal mortal, who describes a flood let loose by the gods that they discover they cannot control nor stop. The god Enki is able to save only Utnapishtim, his wife, his family, and some of the animals by instructing him to build a boat called “The Preserver of Life.”
By contrast, Genesis begins with God controlling the waters. The Spirit of God moves over the face of the abyss and conquers the two Canaanite gods of chaos — tohu and bohu, known also as formless and void. God hems in the waters with land and the firmament. And in the flood narrative, God turns on the water and God turns it off. Chaos is dangerous. The waters are dangerous. But God controls the waters. Go controls the universe. God controls chaos. Not the other way around.
Genesis 9:8-17
In the First Reading, God considers our different ways of seeing the universe to make sure we understand — there’s not going to be a worldwide flood anymore. God twice states that there is not going to be another great flood. When there is no reply from Noah, God gives the visual sign of the rainbow as a continued reminder that God’s bow is unstrung.
Poet/translator Robert Alter makes this point in his edition of the Hebrew Scriptures. As I reflect on this insight, I’m reminded of what are referred to as the multiple intelligences — there are at least eight different ways of being smart, and they are all legitimate, yet we often only address on or two kinds of intelligences when we share the good news. As one who has written Christian education curricula, I was taught to not only address the visual intelligence, what we might call book smarts, which is what kids encounter much of the week in school, but also remember that people have musical intelligence, mechanical intelligence, and mathematical intelligence. Some work well in groups. Others work better alone. Some interpret the world through nature. Look it up. The thing is God speaks to us through our many different intelligences. Do we? Some people have artistic intelligence, but are we ready to communicate through art — or do we expect everyone to get it when we speak from the pulpit? Do we only use one kind of music? How is the gospel preached in our church gardens? Are small groups available for those who learn better than way?
Sometimes we don’t articulate the gospel through these other intelligences. We think, people already know God loves them. Do they? God spoke clearly to Noah twice, then spoke through the art splashed through the prism of the sky.
1 Peter 3:18-22
Then there’s the Second Reading. What is scripture telling us here? Once again, the waters of chaos are recalled, as well as the trauma of the flood. The apostle may be taking a side step, recalling the Nephilim of Genesis 6:1-4, the fallen angels who crossed sexual boundaries and the tangled storytelling only hinted in this fragment of the traditions of ancient Israel. The pseudepigraphal books of Enoch and Jubilees, which didn’t make the cut into the canon, spoke about these spirits imprisoned after the great rebellion, and the flood which followed when Noah, his spouse, his sons, and their spouses, were preserved above the waters. Our baptism, the apostle states, is similar in that we too are saved from the chaos of the waters.
And yet, and yet, there’s still the mystery of Jesus preaching after his death to the spirits in prison. I don’t want to build too much on this, except this image is undeniably here, as well as in other places in scripture, the hint that it’s not over until God says it’s over, and if it is God’s intention to release any captives, it will be done, even if it seems impossible to us, through Jesus.
Mark 1:9-15
Portions of the first chapter of Mark appear in the lectionary three times in close succession: the Second Sunday of Advent (1:1-8), the Third Sunday after the Epiphany (1:14-20), and here, in the First Sunday of Lent (Mark 1:9-15). There is some overlap here, but the Lenten focus is the affirmation of God after the baptism of Jesus before the temptation, the arrest of John, and the beginning of the earthly ministry. Jesus lives in chaotic times, but God’s will is fulfilled.
It begins with the baptism. There is no need for baptismal controversy here. All forms of baptism are legitimate, in my opinion, since it is an outward symbol of an inward change. However, one must not forget that the Greek word baptidzo means immersion, as in washing your clothes and washing your dishes. One does not simply sprinkle water on dirty clothes or dirty dishes and expect them to get clean. Jesus is fully immersed in those waters of chaos and like the eight who survive the flood. Jesus emerges from this immersion fully prepared to inaugurate the new age. Regardless of the temptations and tribulations — and nowhere is it suggested in scripture that surrendering to God means freedom from difficulties — Jesus is equipped to handle whatever comes his way — even death by crucifixion.
Full Disclosure — these next two paragraphs are taken from Charting the Course for January 21, the Third Sunday of Epiphany. Let them inform your thinking, but don’t quote these words exactly if you’ve already used these thoughts a few weeks ago!
“The kingdom of God has come near, Jesus says. (and here I’m translating) “The season is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is near — (near to us physically, near as in “still on the way but getting closer!”) Change your minds and believe in the good news.”
“The Greek word kairos refers not to chronological time, but the change in a season, a way of saying the times, they are a changing! It has started, we’re not finished, but it’s happening, right now. The nearness of the kingdom of God means it’s all around us, and we’re living it, but it’s not actually quite physically present with us — yet! Repenting is not simply the rejection of what happened in the past. It’s a turning around (something like the Hebrew word shuv, used for the same purpose), a change in orientation and direction, the beginning of a journey back to where we belonged all along.”
