The Many Gifts of Creation

Today winds up the Season of Creation.

So, I thought I’d spend this time weaving together three themes.

First, how creation is a precious gift, especially those animals with whom we share our hearts and our homes.

Second, how caring for creation is a sacred responsibility.

And third, how stewardship of creation relates to the second of my Franciscan vows: Chastity.

Today’s first lesson is the story of creation from Genesis.

It’s a beautiful story told from two perspectives.

In the first, the spirit of God moves over the face of the waters.

God speaks creation into being.

It is the version that today’s first lesson comes from.

It is an example of the theological concept of God’s transcendence—that God is supernatural and exists outside our world.

In the second version, from Gensis chapter 2, God gets God’s hands dirty.

God forms the “adam”—Hebrew for “of the earth”—from the ground.

And then God breathes life into the mud creature.

In chapter 3, God walks in the garden, looking for the man and his wife.

This is an example of the theological concept of God’s immanence—that God is present in creation and exists in our world.

Creation is a gift because it helps us to understand this dual nature of God.

This idea of transcendence and immanence may not seem important.

It may seem like something that only theologians care about.

But it’s actually critical to our understanding of not only God, but also our sacraments.

Transcendence explains why God is often hidden to us—why God is beyond our perception.

Transcendence also explains why God is not limited by the physical constraints of the universe.

Immanence explains those times when we experience God—whether it is feeling God’s presence in creation or feeling Jesus holding your hand in the hospital before major surgery.

Immanence explains why God chose to become incarnate in Jesus—to live among us and experience what it is to be human.

Immanence takes the abstract concept of a deity and makes it real for us.

And that duality of transcendence and immanence extends to the sacraments.

Take Communion.

The bread and the wine are immanent.

They are tangible.

We can experience them with our senses.

We can see and touch and taste them.

The body and blood are transcendent.

Their presence is supernatural.

They exist “in, with, and under” the bread and the wine.

The bread and the wine are of creation.

The body and blood are of God.

Immanent and transcendent—both/and.

Without the immanence of the bread and the wine, we couldn’t experience Communion.

Without the transcendence of the body and blood, Communion would be just another ritual—devoid of the supreme significance that we assign to it.

So, creation is a gift because it helps us to understand the nature of God.

But creation is also a gift because it enhances our lives.

Creation inspires us with beauty and with hope.

Yesterday, we had our first Divine Encounter at Davidson’s Mill Pond Park.

Earlier in the week, I walked a few trails in the park to scout the location.

As I was walking, I came upon this area of woods where there was a very large and very noisy flock of grackles.

I imagine it is a sound that would have driven Tippi Hedren to madness—if you don’t get the reference, ask me about it after church.

But it wasn’t the grackles that caught my attention.

It was the undercurrent that was beneath the cacophony.

It was the knock, knock of a red-bellied woodpecker searching for a meal in a dead tree.

It was the screech of a blue jay.

It was the occasional soft thud of an acorn hitting the ground—seeking soil with the promise of a mighty oak contained within its hard shell.

The word that best describes my experience is glorious.

God was present in those woods, and I basked in God’s immanence.

And our pets are a very special part of creation.

They are animals that we open our hearts and our homes to.

Our pets also teach us something about the nature of God.

Although Michael and I have had a couple of cats, we are partial to dogs.

Over the 30-plus years that we’ve been together, we have had 6 dogs.

Each has had its own personality, but we have cherished them all.

I can think of no better teacher about unconditional love than a dog.

Whether you have been away on a business trip for a week or come in the door two minutes after you left because you forgot your keys, you get the same greeting.

You get unbridled joy.

“Oh, thank heavens you’re back! I missed you so much!”

Our dog Montra whines with excitement.

She brings you a favorite toy.

And she wags her tail so vigorously, you think it may fall off.

That is the nature of God’s love for us.

Of course, God’s love is more expansive.

And more deliberate.

But God’s love is unconditional—just like the love of our beloved pets.

And, when we go away, God is joyful when we return.

And that joy that Montra demonstrates when we come home is infectious.

Her joy incites joy in us.

How could it not?

Similarly, we should feel joy in the knowledge that God loves us.

What I want you to take away from this analogy is not that God’s love is like a dog’s.

The takeaway is that the unconditional love that dogs show us and the joy that they experience when we return, those things give us a sense of the magnitude of God’s love—which is infinite—and so, we are able on a certain level to comprehend something that is incomprehensible.

And maybe—just maybe—we can pause in those times when we feel God’s presence and let joy fill us up because we know that presence we feel is because God loves us unconditionally and wants us to know God’s presence.

In so many ways, creation is a gift.

Like all things in our lives—family, friends, possessions—are a gift.

And, as we should with every gift, we give thanks.

We offer up prayers of thanksgiving.

We care for all the things of value that we have received from God.

We are good stewards—understanding that nothing we have is ours.

That all we have, we have by the grace of God.

So, we love, protect, and care for our family and our friends.

We safeguard and maintain our possessions.

And we care for creation.

We preserve our natural environment.

We conserve our natural resources.

We revel in its beauty.

We rejoice in God’s presence.

All these things are our sacred responsibility.

For many, stewardship has come to mean financial support for the church.

But stewardship is so much bigger than that.

It’s not only supporting the church financially—it’s also supporting the church with your time and your talents.

It’s not only supporting the church—it’s also supporting the community.

So much of our call as Christians is about how we live in community.

How we live in community is the central message of the Sermon on the Mount.

And stewardship is not supposed to just be something that we do.

Stewardship is supposed to be part of our faith practice.

We need to make it part of who we are—an integral part of our being.

Which brings me to my vow of chastity.

Now, let me first dispel a common misconception.

Chastity is NOT celibacy.

Traditionally, chastity has been associated with sexual purity.

But, for Lutheran Franciscans, chastity is a vow to “love all, without distinction”.

It is a vow to love as Jesus loves—to emulate his unconditional love.

It is a vow to see the image of God in our fellow human beings and to love them as siblings.

It is a vow to see God in all of creation and to love and care for creation.

It is a vow of fidelity in our relationship with God.

It is a vow that says that our care for one another and our care for creation are acts of faithfulness to our relationship with God.

Creation is a miracle of God’s love.

It is both gift and responsibility.

Creation can help our finite minds understand infinite concepts.

It can inspire awe and fill us with the presence of God.

The ebb and flow of creation is indicative of not only creation, but also re-creation.

It’s a reminder that God is not finished with us yet.

As the Apostle Paul writes in today’s third lesson, “we wait for our bodies to be set free—for God’s glory to be revealed in us.”

Humankind is God’s greatest creation and yet, as we are, we are an unfinished masterpiece, waiting to reveal God’s glory in God’s Kin-dom.

So, as we go about our day-to-day lives, I give you a challenge.

Take a moment each day to pause and really experience creation.

Think about how creation gives us insight into the nature of God.

Consider how the wonders of creation fill us with the presence of God.

Revel in the joy that our pets bring us and how they too can give us some understanding about God’s love.

Appreciate the beauty of creation and how it is our sacred duty to protect and care for it.

And make that care for creation a part of your faith practice—an enduring symbol of the fidelity to your relationship with God.

Let us close this Season of Creation with a special prayer:

Creator God, lover of life and of everything, help us to love in our very small way what you love infinitely and everywhere.

We thank you for showing us that everything and everyone is connected.

Nothing and no one stands alone.

To pray for one part is to pray for the whole.

Help us each day to stand for love, for healing, and for good.

Help us to revel in the diversity of the Body of Christ and all creation.

We thank you for your magnificent creation.

It is all we ever need.

On those days when we feel overwhelmed with the events of the world, let us ground ourselves in the natural lives we were created to live.

Let us spend some extra time in creation to better understand you and receive the shalom—the peace and the wholeness—that only you can provide.

We offer up these prayers together with all the holy names that you are known by.

In Jesus’ blessed name we pray. Amen