Genesis 7:11-24
11 In the six hundredth year of
Noah's life, in the second month, on the seventeenth day of the month, on that
day all the fountains of the great deep burst forth, and the windows of the
heavens were opened. 12 The rain fell on the earth forty days and forty nights.
13 On the very same day Noah with his sons, Shem and Ham and Japheth, and
Noah's wife and the three wives of his sons entered the ark, 14 they and every
wild animal of every kind, and all domestic animals of every kind, and every
creeping thing that creeps on the earth, and every bird of every kind—every
bird, every winged creature. 15 They went into the ark with Noah, two and two
of all flesh in which there was the breath of life. 16 And those that entered,
male and female of all flesh, went in as God had commanded him; and the Lord
shut him in. 17 The flood continued forty days on the earth; and the waters
increased, and bore up the ark, and it rose high above the earth. 18 The waters
swelled and increased greatly on the earth; and the ark floated on the face of
the waters. 19 The waters swelled so mightily on the earth that all the high
mountains under the whole heaven were covered; 20 the waters swelled above the
mountains, covering them fifteen cubits deep. 21 And all flesh died that moved
on the earth, birds, domestic animals, wild animals, all swarming creatures
that swarm on the earth, and all human beings; 22 everything on dry land in
whose nostrils was the breath of life died. 23 He blotted out every living
thing that was on the face of the ground, human beings and animals and creeping
things and birds of the air; they were blotted out from the earth. Only Noah
was left, and those that were with him in the ark. 24 And the waters swelled on
the earth for one hundred fifty days.
You woke up this morning from an uneasy sleep only to find that you’re still here.
It’s been over a year now, and you’re beginning to forget what fresh air feels
like—what it tastes like. The sun has become little more than a haunting ghost
that glows behind the creaking, pitch-plastered walls. The sky that used to
stretch from horizon to horizon has had its borders reduced to little more than
a square patch of pale, grayish blue in the roof above. The stench is awful;
the noise is unbearable; there’s no room to even be alone with your thoughts;
with each new day comes the hope that it will be the last, that you’ll once
again be free to feel the earth beneath your feet and the warm breeze on your
face.
You can remember when it happened as if it were only yesterday—God telling
you to build an ark because He was going to blot out every living thing on the
earth. He called you to build it, and (as if that wasn’t a large enough task in
and of itself) to fill it with no fewer than two of every living creature.
That’s no easy job! But you are a man of faith, and you do as the Lord tells
you. So you built an ark, filled it with your family and all the animals you
could gather with their mates, and then…you waited.
I suppose it felt like an adventure at first for you. God, the creator of
the heavens and earth, gave you a mission. It must have seemed like such an
enormous and noble task, not to mention the great swelling of pride you must
have felt to know that God had chosen you over every other living soul in the
world. I can imagine how difficult it must have been to explain this to your
family, to ask them to join you in what surely must have seemed like a fool’s
errand. But they trusted you, and by your side they aided in the task. They
watched as the creatures of the earth filled the hold of the ark. Then, by your
side, they entered the ark, and they waited.
You can remember what that was like, can’t you? That moment when God
Himself, through some divine force or perhaps His very hand, closed the opening
to the ark—do you remember what was going through your mind? What emotions must
have been going on inside your heart—fear, anxiety, doubt, anticipation. You
were standing there, inside the ark, surrounded by the various delegates of
creation, and I can’t help but wonder what must have been on your mind…while
you were waiting.
I’m sure the hours seemed to just ooze by, and when they stretched into
days, I don’t doubt that you yourself may have begun to wonder if this was
really the right thing to do. But being the righteous man of faith you are, you
stuck it out. And then, after what must have seemed like the longest week of
your life, the rain came…the wait was over.
I’ve always enjoyed the sound of rain myself. There’s something soothing
about it, something that triggers within me a feeling of comfort and calm.
However, I imagine that day you heard those first drops on the roof of the ark
you were anything but calm. You knew this was coming, and now, with the sound
of the rain falling on the ark, the reality of God’s words began to sink in.
For just outside the sealed walls your ark, your neighbors felt the rain. You
don’t like to think about it; it’s too raw, too painful. Yes, God had spared
you and your family, and He made it clear that he found you—you alone—to be
righteous and blameless in your generation, but these were your neighbors. You
knew their names, didn’t you? You knew their children and their animals. You
knew their faults and their strengths. You knew their voices…
I wonder if you can still recall their faces, still hear their voices in
your dreams. I know the words of Scripture are silent here, but I can’t help
but wonder what it must have been like when the reality of the devastation set
in and their voices began to pierce the walls of the ark. Did you weep for
them? Did you shout back to them over the sound of the rising waters and the
wild calls of the animals as they cried to their own kin? I know that must be a
horrific memory; it’s no wonder Scripture doesn’t tell us more about it.
After the rain—some forty days and forty nights—you were left alone in
the overwhelming closeness of the ark, with the depressing silence just
outside. It took some time for the waters to begin reseeding, but once they
did, you grew anxious. “What does the world look like now?” you thought to
yourself. You began to wonder where you were, had you floated very far or only
a few miles. For over a year now, you’ve been stuck in this ark, with all these
animals and their lovely smells, with your family and all their own complaints.
You’ve been stuck inside this oversized casket for over a year with the screams
of your neighbors still ringing in your ears…and you’ve grown tired of waiting.
The day has arrived. This time the bird didn’t come back, and it seems
like the earth is dry and ready once again to be inhabited. The ark is opened,
and creation gets a “do-over.” The first thing you do, whether out of
thanksgiving or fear, is offer a sacrifice to the God who spared you and your
family. I, however, can’t help but wonder why you haven’t asked Him about your
neighbors, or why he decided to choose you, and only you and your family, to
spare. It makes one wonder why God does what He does. At any rate, God has
promised he’ll never do this again. Maybe he regrets having done it the first
time: I’d like to believe that the God I worship felt remorse for having
destroyed so many lives. Perhaps He recognized the futility in trying to
perfect humankind: maybe a creation with free will is destined to fall and
stray away from righteousness. Whatever reason He has, God promised He wouldn’t
do it again—not this way, and he put down his bow, making it a symbol to remind
Himself (and us) of such a promise.
You were spared—you, Noah, and your family with you. Yes, it’s a terrible
thought to think that God blotted out every living thing from the earth. Yes,
it shakes me to my very core to think that I would have been one in the
drowning masses. But that fact that you were spared, Noah, gives me hope. It
gives me hope that God is truly a God of grace, that He is a God who saves His
people by His power—not our own. The fact that God saved you, Noah, says to me
that God has the power to save me, to rescue me from a world filled with sin
and the punishment that awaits it.
I know the rest of your story isn’t pretty. I know what happens with you
and your sons. Then again, I’ve read a lot of the stories of God’s people, and
honestly, none of them are all that clean-cut and righteous. There again,
though, I still find hope. I find hope in the God who rescued Noah from the
flood and from his own future wickedness. I find hope in the God who rescued
Moses and the children of Israel from the flooding waters of the Red Sea. I
find hope in the God who rescued His people Judah from the tyrants of Babylon.
I find hope in the God who rescued Peter from the stormy waters on the Sea of
Galilee. I find hope in the God who has rescued me from the deluge of sin and
wickedness in my own life through Calvary’s cross and the empty tomb! Today, I
find hope in the terrifying grace of God, grace that rescues me from the flood.
May you find hope in the grace of God this day. Let us pray…
