Dominion & Dirt: What is our vocation with creation? ~ Genesis 1:26-30; 2:7, 15-17

  

Last week we explored Romans 8:18-23 and learned a powerful truth – that the ecological crisis of our world is not a technological crisis or even a meteorological crisis but a theological crisis – a massive disordering in our relationship with God, each other, ourselves, and all of creation. We heard the Apostle Paul, along with a long line of Hebrew Prophets, tell us that this environmental harm falls squarely on us as those who, through our own activity, hurt creation causing her to groan and mourn. But we also learned that while we are responsible for harm; as believers, we are also responsible for hope. We must have hope, be hope , and give our lives to the One who is hope – Jesus.

The word ecology literally means the “study of relationships,” and it is a striking fact that our ancient forebearers and writers of Scripture, inspired by God, were keenly interested in the relationships between humanity and the non-human creation. And they understood that our relationship to non-human creation functions as a spiritual barometer for the health of our relationship with God. And we see this discussed in the delightfully jumbled accounts of two different stories in Genesis that seek to make us whole, or, if you prefer the Biblical word, “righteous.”

If you haven’t gone to seminary, you might be surprised to learn that what constitutes the creation account of Genesis comes from two different authors, separated centuries apart, who utilize different literary styles to make two seemingly different points about our relationship with creation. But as we shall see, we need them both.

The first writer, chapter one, is known as the “Priestly source” and wants to stress that humanity – both male and female – is created “in the image of God” (said three times, 1:26-27). Their exalted vocation, we are told in the NIV, is to “rule over” the other creatures and to “subdue the earth [land]”. In both cases, human beings are granted the weighty honor and responsibility of representing God’s own activity in the world, of standing up for God’s interests. It is to be a God-informed and Godly imagined-activity NOT a self-interested one. Our rule, in other words, is exercised on behalf of God and not instead of God.

The second writer, known as the “Yahwist”[named so by his use of the name of God, which is actually given later in the chronological story of the Israelites], offers an alternative perspective: “And YHWH God formed the human being [΄adam], dust from the fertile soil [΄adamah] . . .”(2:7). This is a rare instance where Hebrew wordplay can also be captured in English: humans come from humus. So we share common ground with the Earth because we are common ground. This earthiness of our very existence signifies kinship. And just in case, the point hasn’t been made clearly enough, that kinship is animated not merely by the ground that we share but also the same “breath of life,” given by God to all living creatures (1:30, 2:7, 7:22). If we forget this horizontal relationship we do so at our own peril. As creatures, we are more dependent on the Earth that it is on us. We are literally of the Earth rather than merely living on it. In this second story, the vocation of our dirt-being-ancestors is to act as farmers, who depend upon the land: “And YHWH God took the human being and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.” (2:15).

Now, the editors of Genesis took these two stories and intended us to see them as complementary components of a single story. Both are needed to understand the wholeness to which we as human beings are created and called.

We are connected on one side of the family with divinity; on the other, with fertile soil. We are made in the image of God – we have infinite worth and a high calling which demands sober responsibility. But – and I stress this because this is what we have forgotten – the second creation account implicitly warns us not to get a distorted image of ourselves. We are made of the same stuff – of earth, fragile and frail – leaving an indelible imprint of vulnerability made even more perilous by sin. “For dust you are, and to dust you shall return” (3:19). In fact, the best way, in my opinion, to describe the first sin of our great, great, great-grandparents, was there refusal to be human beings made of soil and instead attempt to be “like gods” (3:5).

So these two symbols of the imago dei and humus belong together if we ever intend to fully understand and live into our vocation and destiny. It means that our discipleship must remember that we have something of God in us AS WELL AS soil. So soil is more relative than resource, more kin and kind, brother or sister, to be respected and not merely used.

We gain a fuller appreciation of the previous words “rule” and “subdue” when we encounter the job description in Genesis 2:15. We are told, that the human being was created “to work it and care for it.”

When we add these words to “subdue” and “rule” we discover a profound sense of interdependence, humility, and compassion, that challenge any notion of hierarchy or power. In fact, what’s so interesting is that both of these words: “work” (‘avad) and “watch or care” (shamar) - occur hundreds of times throughout the Old Testament but very rarely with respect to the physical act of farming. They are more often words designated for religious activity toward God or by God.

Two critical features of these words:

1.     The word ‘avad means “to work” but more often to “work for.” It denotes, in other words, a servant’s service to a master, either human or divine. The first word reorients us toward serving what God has made. This isn’t meant to suggest that we don’t play a key role of stewardship given by God but certainly wants to curtail any notion that would imply we can do or use the land, animals, plants, in any way that we want to. We are earth’s stewards, much like a parent to a child, the needs of the land take clear precedence over our immediate preferences. And, as Christians, we remember that Jesus, the very image of God, took the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness” (Phil. 2:7).

2.     The word "shamar,” also a strong religious word, mostly refers to the keeping, the watching, the observing of Torah, God’s law. An oft-repeated phrase is: “You shall shamar my commandents/ordinances/etc.” (Exodus 13:10, 20:6, 31:14). It implies that we should observe creation as a place to learn from as well as keep it from harm or violation. It denotes a watchful protection in the same way that God also protects us, “The LORD bless you and keep [shamar] you” (Num. 6:24). It means that our relationship to the planet must be deferential, observant, and protective.

Creation’s Hope (each week we will end with hopeful remembrances and actions)

1.     Science supports the benefit of common ground. Recent science confirms that we are part of an ecosystem, our bodies are part of nature and respond to nature in beneficial ways. There are 21 pathways by which that’s true. For example, sound waves coming off of streams, and moving bodies of water, activate the vagus nerve and calm us down. There are chemical compounds in nature, like the smell a flower or tree bark, that activate parts of the brain and the immune system. So our bodies are wired to respond in an open and empowering way to nature. Science becomes one more piece of evidence supporting ancient Scriptural wisdom that we are different from nature but also of it, connected to it, interdependent on it. We are dirt and dirt that can create new habits and connect with it and others to make greater change by God’s Spirit. We can practice avad and shamar now. The Bible and science remind us that we were actually made for it.

2.     When in doubt, walk it out. A reorienting practice for remembering our role and relationship to creation is to take an “awe walk.” An “awe walk” is a stroll in which you intentionally shift your attention outward instead of inward. Pay attention not to an internal conversation or problems but to the sights, sounds, smells, and touch of the natural world. Go with a child-like wonder and feel the sponginess of wet leaves under your shoes, or the look at the dappled shadows of light on the path. If you want to learn how to do it, check out Greater Good in Action https://ggia.berkeley.edu/practice/awe_walk. 15 minutes per week created a noticeable change in the overall mental and emotional health of adults. But researchers were surprised by an amazing feature. They asked participants to take selfies at the beginning, middle, and end of each walk. Analysis of these photos revealed a visible shift in how participants portrayed themselves. The awe-walk group increasingly made themselves smaller in their photos over the course of the study, preferring to feature the landscapes around them. At the same time, the smiles on participants’ faces grew measurably more intense. They were visibly embodying a posture of service and observance. It’s what we were made for.