calming the chaos

revisiting January 2021

It was the evening of New Year’s Day. There was a pitter patter of shower outside. I decided to go for a walk; I wanted to hear what the rain would say to me. Upon stepping outside, I realized the droplets were being outvoted by pellets. A slushy crust was coalescing beneath my feet. That’s okay, since the ice is making its voice heard, I’ll lend an ear. So off I went into the night.

Actually, I did not lend an ear. I was too busy thinking about my determination to listen to whatever precepts the precipitation presented. Is there a word for me to receive? It’s difficult to be aware if you’re trying to be aware that you are aware. You wind up only hearing yourself.

In any event, it was a pleasant walk.

It seems fitting that we would have that kind of weather on the evening of the first day of the year. I say it seems fitting, in that our reading from the Hebrew scriptures for the Baptism of the Lord is from Genesis — the first five verses of the book. (You know: “In the beginning,” water, baptism, even if it’s a baptism of sleet.)

At his baptism, as the water flowed down his body, Jesus did hear a voice. It was a voice from heaven saying, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased” (Mark 1:11).

There are two creation stories in Genesis. The “macro” story is in chapter 1 and the beginning of chapter 2, the creation of the world. The “micro” story is the rest of chapter 2, focusing on the creation of the human race. We’re in the “macro” story and looking at the first day of creation.

With each of the days of creation, we have the repeated statement, “God said.” God speaks, and something appears, something happens. God speaks the word in creating. Over and again, we are told God saw that it was good. It is the word pervading all of creation, permeating all of the cosmos.

The gospel of John borrows from this: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (1:1).

Summing up each day of creation is the statement, “And there was evening and there was morning, the first day,” and the second day, and the third day, and so on (v. 5).

Today being the Baptism of the Lord, I would like to focus on the first two verses, which are the reason this text was assigned to this day in the first place. “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.”

The earth was a formless void. The Hebrew word for “formless” (תֹּהוּ, tohu) also means “confusion” or “chaos.” It was a nothingness of chaos. The word for “void” (בֹּהוּ, bohu) also means “emptiness.” It was an emptiness without form — an emptiness without shape. The earth was a real “fixer upper.”

Some might say 2020 and 2021 were a nothingness of chaos.

What we see is God bringing order to what is the ultimate picture of disorder. (If it’s possible to have a picture of disorder.) God is setting boundaries. “God [separates] the light from the darkness” (v. 4). In the days following, we see other things being separated, being distinguished.

Sometimes my dear wife Banu will prepare a dish with ingredients carefully portioned into distinct layers. She often shows me how to eat it, sometimes using a fork to demonstrate. I am reminded to not mix them together, so as not to deprive, or to diminish, the individual flavor of each element. I am not to mess up the texture of the various components. I am forbidden to bring disorder to order.

Perhaps my favorite of the prophets is Jeremiah. The Bible tells us more about him as a person than any of the other prophets. And he has quite a story. I mention him because, in a startling passage, he uses the word bohu (4:23–26).

“I looked on the earth, and lo, it was waste and void; and to the heavens, and they had no light.” The earth is again described as “void.” He continues.

“I looked on the mountains, and lo, they were quaking, and all the hills moved to and fro. I looked, and lo, there was no one at all, and all the birds of the air had fled. I looked, and lo, the fruitful land was a desert, and all its cities were laid in ruins before the Lord, before his fierce anger.”

Walter Brueggemann comments on Jeremiah’s looking.

“The fourfold ‘I looked’ is a staggering study of creation run amok, creation reverted to chaos… [E]ach time the poet looks at the world, he sees more and more of creation being nullified, regressing to the murky condition of Gen. 1:2…” God’s covenant with Israel “held the staggering notion that human conduct matters for the well-being of creation. Working from that notion, the picture of this poem is grim. Since there has not been obedience, there will be no viable creation. Disobedience finally leads to chaos for the entire creation.” (59)

Lest we think that’s an exaggeration, our own disobedience in tending the garden is leading to a twenty-first century version of chaos for creation. We too often ignore God’s covenant, now expressed in the living Word, Jesus Christ, in our dealings with each other. We foment disorder in each other’s lives.

On the day of Epiphany, we witnessed a mob storm the Capitol building. For a while, the rioters had their way. (Another term used is “insurrectionists.” I think that’s pushing it a bit too far.) Officers were attacked, weapons were carried, windows were smashed, offices were ransacked, and worst of all, there was loss of life — on the 6th and in days following. To use the Hebrew word, it was tohu. It was disorder. It was chaos.

In fairness, there is debate regarding the percentage of the demonstrators (and officers) who resorted to violence, of whatever measure. To what extent one agrees with that debate is another question.

Epiphany celebrates the light of Christ shining to all the Gentiles, to all the nations. The visit of the Magi illustrates it. When they asked about the one who was born king of the Jews, the powers-that-be in Jerusalem were terrified. They feared the light shining into their darkness. No darkness, no violence, no thuggery can withstand that glory.

Our “God is a God not of disorder [not of chaos!] but of peace” (1 Corinthians 14:33).

We see creation as a process of setting boundaries, of bringing order to disorder. Light is separated from darkness. The sky is separated from the ocean. The land is separated from the sea.

How are broken boundaries restored? How is order brought to disorder? What things need to be separated?

It’s important to take notice of something. When God sets boundaries, it is indeed a creative act. It isn’t a destructive one. The boundaries are healthy boundaries. They are boundaries that protect. They are not boundaries that harmfully isolate.

As for me, the story of my nocturnal walk reinforces a lesson I need to heed over and over. I could do with some restoration of boundaries, so that I can rightly discern the Word from the many words bubbling up in my mind.

Thanks be to God, who speaks the word that creates, and who speaks the word into our lives to calm the storm.