“And God remembered Noah.”  (Genesis 8:1)

Genesis 8:1-22

January 17, 2010

Remembered and forgotten

Being remembered is nice.  Especially by God.

Being forgotten – or even feeling like you have been forgotten – is terrifying.  Especially by God.

I have known both being remembered and feeling like I have been forgotten.  

Waiting

It’s nice to be remembered while you’re waiting.  The first half of my life was spent waiting.  Five hundred years or so.[1]  That’s when my sons were born.

I waited a lot longer than my father to have kids.  He was only 182 when I was born.[2]  He named me “Comfort,”[3] because he believed my life would bring a contrast to his hard life of toil, working the fields for food.

For most of my life, I did exactly what my father did.[4]  I cleared land, planted crops, harvested fields, and preserved food.  It was all about survival.  Some years the seasonal cycles made it easy, but more often than not we experienced what God had told our first ancestor.  The ground was cursed[5] and seemed to yield its fruit begrudgingly.

The first five centuries of my life were spent waiting – waiting for a wife, waiting for my sons, waiting for the next crop, waiting for God.

I was determined, however, to wait with integrity and character.  I had heard the stories of those who preceded me – Adam, who talked with God[6], Abel, who pleased God with his offerings,[7] and Enoch, who walked with God and then disappeared because God took him.[8]

There were other stories as well – Eve, who was deceived by the serpent[9], Cain, who murdered his brother[10], the heroes of old[11], who possessed strength but not righteousness, lust but not integrity.

Somehow most of the creatures God made in his image chose to follow the path of wickedness and evil.[12]  The way of violence and desire seemed to bring immediate rewards.  I chose a different path.  I chose to remember God, to walk with God, and to wait.

I must confess there were times when I asked myself if God remembered me?  Did it matter that I was content to do the right thing, with or without a family, with no promise of sons to carry on my family line?  Did God care about my ordinary life of tilling, planting, and harvesting?  Would my life ever give “comfort” to anyone?  Did he hear my constant and earnest prayers?[13] I heard no voices, I received no divine instructions.  For five hundred years I was just….waiting.

“God, it’s good to be remembered when I am waiting.  Even when there is no evidence that you remember me, help me to remember you.” 

Working

It’s also good to be remembered while you’re working.

One day God spoke to me.  “Noah,” he said, “I am going to put an end to all people, for the earth is filled with violence.  I am going to destroy not only people, but all life and even the earth.  Build a sea chest made of cypress wood and seal it inside and out.  You will need that protection for yourself, your family, and two of every creature I will send to the sea chest in advance of the great flood.  Start working on that sea chest, and start storing up the food you will need.”[14]

Family?  You’re going to give me a family?  That was the first thing that sunk in.   I would have sons and daughters-in-law! 

God had remembered me.  He had noticed my intent to be different than those of my generation.  He was going to start over with the world, but he would start over with me and my family.  I was humbled and honored.

But there was work to be done.  A sea chest 45 feet high, 75 feet wide, and 450 feet long is, needless to say, a big project.  It would be made by hand, one log at a time.

Fortunately, those sons came along during the years of working.  We cut trees and dragged them, then shaped them and joined them.  It was a big job by itself, but doing it while still trying to grow food and…well, you know…trying to have that family – that was a lot.  It was a little discouraging after ten years only to have the first row of wood and the supporting joists done.  I was sort of hoping God wasn’t in a big hurry for that flood.

Apparently he wasn’t.  Shem, Ham, and Japheth were born and grew up – soon they were hard at work joining me in cutting and planing and assembling – and farming.  Four men instead of one – with three of them actually under the age of 500 – that was a big help.  All three married, and their wives were a help and encouragement.

Another kind of work became necessary as the sea chest took shape.  Such a mammoth project obviously captured the attention of neighbors, friends, and, well, enemies as well.  No one much shared an interest in helping – but there were lots of questions.

So I turned into a “preacher” as well.  It was hard to convince a skeptical world that what had not yet been seen would happen.[15]  Times of wickedness coupled with prosperity lead to arrogance, not repentance. 

As the sea chest neared completion, I sensed a greater urgency.  It’s one thing to live righteousness – even for five hundred years.  But when you begin to preach righteousness,[16] tolerance turns to resentment and backlash.  The longer it took to finish the sea chest the less credible was my witness that a flood would destroy the earth.

There were certainly times I myself wondered if God remembered.  I had not heard from him for more than a hundred years.  What if I had mistaken his voice?  What if it had all been a dream?  What if I invested a hundred years working on what I thought was God’s project and preaching what I thought was God’s message and God forgot me?

“God, it’s good to be remembered when I am working.  Even when there is no evidence that you remember me, help me to remember you.” 

Wondering

It’s also good to be remembered while you’re wondering.  There were many opportunities to wonder when the floods came.

There were seven days of wondering after we entered the sea chest.[17]  We had, after all, been mocked for decades during the construction process.  “A flood, Noah?  Over the whole earth, Noah?  I thought your name was “comfort.”  What comfort is that?  Oh, but you heard God’s voice, right?  That makes it all make sense.  Not!” 

When you’ve gathered all the animals in the sea chest and God has shut the door[18], you kind of expect to hear raindrops.  The first night, nothing.  The next day, silence.  The next night, dry.  The following day, the voices of mocking crowds.  Those would grow only louder day after day for the first week.  You find yourself wondering.

Then there were the forty days of rain.  Of course, it made believers of those mockers outside the sea chest who suddenly became desperate.  They had been living their daily lives – eating, drinking, marrying – assuming that what is always will be[19].  I knew many of them – could pick out their voices in the desperate screams as the waters rose.  But it was too late for them.  I couldn’t help but wonder why they couldn’t have one more chance.  It wasn’t my choice.

And as the sea chest rose into the surging waters, churning and rocking and going who knew where being carried along by floodwaters, those were days of wondering, “Is this boat safe?”  The tension on the vessel was not just human – animals were jostled in their stalls and cages.  It was all we could do to comfort them.  We wondered how long the rain could fall. And wondered if God remembered. 

Then there were the 150 days of flood.[20]  The rain had stopped, but the water was ubiquitous.  The sea chest was still, but it was directionless.  The sky was clear, but our world was one big ocean.  The animals were calm, but the daily need for attention to their needs was relentless.  And we wondered.  Is God busy?  Has he become distracted?  Are there other problems he has become interested in more so than this floating sea chest?

But God remembered, and sent a strong wind to blow over the waters.[21]  If it’s unsettling to be in a vast ocean on a rudderless sea chest, how much more so when gale force winds are churning the water and moving the vessel to who knows where?  And so we wondered, again.

At the end of those 150 days, we all felt a violent jolt as the sea chest struck land in the Ararat mountain range.[22]  We had no idea where we were and wondered what would happen next.  What if the impact had punctured the side of the sea chest?  What if we were on the side of a mountain, and as the water receded we began to slip?  What if the water stopped receding?

We waited for forty days while we wondered.[23]  Then I opened the window and sent out a raven.[24]  We wondered if it would find food.  I watched it fly back and forth, looking for carrion.  The water receded and we wondered how long before our restlessness would be relieved.

I waited a week and sent out a dove.[25]  It came back without finding land.  I wondered how long I should wait.  Another week.  Then I sent it out again.  That time, it was evident the water was receding because of the olive branch in its beak.[26]  (Olive trees grow only at low altitudes.)  I waited another seven days and sent the dove again.  It never came back.[27]

Still I wondered.  Do we just start disembarking?  Or do we wait for some sign for God?  We tried the door God had shut and it would not open.  We tried it the next day.  Still closed.  Then the next.  Same result.  We waited seven more weeks until the command of God said, “Come on out.  The earth is ready for you.  Go make babies!”[28]

Well, it was a little late for me, but not for my sons and their wives and the animals in the sea chest.  The wondering was over.  God had remembered. 

My first thought was Godward.  We worshiped as God promised he would never again destroy the earth because of man’s evil heart.[29] I wondered if man would some day forget the Great Flood and its warning that God’s judgment comes on those who refuse to hear the warnings and choose to live unsuspectingly.[30]

Nature’s cycle, on which we farmers depend, would never again be fundamentally altered.[31]  God’s promise would never be revoked.[32]  Local and regional disasters would come and go, causing us to wonder again about God’s purpose and promise.  But never again would there be universal destruction.

“God, it’s good to be remembered when I am wondering.  Even when there is no evidence that you remember me, help me to remember you.”