The Old Testament reading today was about God, and a Man, and, ultimately, a Woman.
It starts when God had
nearly finished His creation. In this version, he hasn't made
humankind as male and female, but he has made all the animals birds
and the first Man. And the Man is in the Garden, but he is alone.
God shows him all the animals and all the birds, and gets him to give
them names. There are horses to ride, to help with hunting. There
are cattle to milk, and to pull the plough, and to give meat and
leather. There are sheep to provide wool, milk and meat. Goats,
too, provide milk. Then there are chickens and ducks of various
kinds for eggs. There are deer for hunting, and other game, too –
even wild boar, although perhaps not domesticated pigs. There are
cats to catch mice. But there are no companions. Even the dogs,
faithful and friendly as they are, helpful in the hunt as they are,
aren't real companions. They don't think the same way as Man does.
“Well,” says God,
“If none of these will do – and I quite see that they won't –
there is only one thing for it!”
And he causes Man to
sleep and from his body creates Woman. The perfect companion to Man,
who will work alongside him. Together they will create and raise
children. Together they will run their home, perhaps doing different
things, but alongside one another, equal with one another. In each
generation, the man will leave his parents' home and make a new home
with his wife.
Or that was the general
idea! Of course, we know that on one level these are only stories,
what we call creation myths to explain the origin of humans, and of
our relationship with God. We know that humankind originated in
Africa's Rift Valley, not in the Middle East. We know that farming,
which did originate in the Middle East, came only after who knows how
many generations of hunter-gatherers. We know that animals have
different names in different languages, and the universal Latin names
were only given in the last century or so. We even know that these
stories were not written down until comparatively late.
But on another level,
of course, they are profoundly true. They are about us, and about
our relationship with our creator. In the next chapter, we learn
about how it all went horribly wrong, how humanity disobeyed the
creator and has never been really comfortable with him, or with
itself, ever since. Again, stories that explain this that are, on
one level, only stories and on another level profoundly true.
And it did go horribly
wrong, didn't it? Because the Woman was created last, after all the
animals and birds, and after the Man, she has been seen down the
centuries as somehow inferior; her role, instead of being
different-but-equal, was seen as very much there to serve. Not
helped, of course, by the misapprehension that she was just the soil
in which a man planted his seed, rather than contributing equally to
the genetic material of the next generation.
And the picture of
marriage that was painted in these stories hasn't quite worked out,
either, has it? Jesus said, in our gospel reading, that Moses had
had to allow a law permitting divorce because there were times when
it simply didn't work out. But how many women have been able to
leave a husband who abused them, physically or mentally? In how many
cultures has the man been able to get a divorce on a whim, but a
woman must stick to her marriage no matter how ghastly it is. Quite
apart from anything else, throughout much of history the only
alternative has been a life on the streets.
Even today in the
United States there is a worrying trend to try to take control of a
woman's fertility away from her, and place it in the hands of men, as
though it wasn't her own body. In some states they are trying to
make it illegal for a doctor to say if there's something wrong with
the baby she's carrying, in case she should decide to have an
abortion – but of course, they aren't, as far as I know, making
appropriate provision for care and support of badly disabled
children. You remember the row the other week when a senator
blithely repeated that old, and untrue, chestnut that you can't get
pregnant from being raped. Sigh....
It all sounds
frightfully doom-and-gloom, doesn't it? I don't mean to sound that
way, because, of course, there are so many cases when things have
gone right, when people have been happily married for years,
supporting one another and alongside one another, just as seems to be
the Biblical ideal. I only have to look at my own parents, who,
three weeks ago, celebrated 60 years of married life together, and
got a card from the Queen. Which is pretty amazing really – not
the card from the Queen bit, of course, but the rest of it.
But I'm also sure that,
if you asked them, they would say – reluctantly, as that generation
doesn't really care to speak of its faith – that part of it has
been their kneeling together side-by-side in worship several times a
month in Church. Part of it. And I'm not saying you can't have a
successful marriage without being a Christian, which would be an
extremely stupid thing to say and easily disprovable; I am, however,
saying that I am sure this is part of it.
But it's the same for
all of life, really. We make a pretty good job of being human
without God, but we seem to make a much better job of it with God.
On the other hand, we
have done some dreadful things in God's name – crusades and jihads
being the least of them. Those abuses of women I just talked about?
Done in God's name. Slavery – done in God's name. Even apartheid
was originally set up in God's name; people genuinely believed that
God wanted people of different skin colour to live separately.
And from that, a small
step to thinking that they are somehow different or inferior.
Ridiculous to our modern way
of thinking, of course, but I'm sure you will tell me that the
effects of such thinking linger on to this day. And think of the
cultural damage that missionaries, no matter how well-meaning, have
done – it's only really in the last twenty or thirty years that we
have begun to hear hymns that have their origins in other cultures.
I could go on and on.
And that's just humanity in general. Shall we come to us in
particular? Hmmm, let's not, and say we did! I don't know about
you, but I don't like facing up to the fact that I'm not perfect, and
that I have to admit that to myself in God's presence. But why would
I be special? Humankind, down the years, has done some appalling
things. We read of appalling atrocities in our newspapers every
morning – some of them, alas, done in God's name, even today. I am
not different or special. It's only through God's grace that I
haven't done dreadful things, and at that, maybe I have. Not
newspaper-headline dreadful, but hurting people, putting myself first
all the time, that sort of thing.
Because that's what
it's all about, isn't it? About putting ourselves first, which all
of us do, all the time. It's only natural. Look at a baby asleep in
its pram – it doesn't have the first idea that the world doesn't
revolve around it, with people running to do its bidding whenever it
expresses displeasure at its current state! My little grandson is
just over two, and is only now beginning to learn this. He has to
learn to share his toys and to take turns; he is learning, slowly,
that when Mummy or Daddy are working at home and the door is shut,
they can't give him their attention – but that doesn't stop him
asking, sometimes.
As we grow up, we are
supposed to learn that the world doesn't revolve around us. But our
natural inclination is always to put ourselves first. And yet we
know, from the Bible and other sources, that this isn't really the
way to true humanity, true happiness. We just think it is.
One of the quarrels I
have with evangelical Christianity is that it does make the good news
start “You are a sinner!” And my sermon today has done that,
rather, hasn't it?
But, of course, that's
not where I want to leave it. We all know we are sinners, we know
that we're always going to put ourselves first if we get half a
chance, and sometimes we do dreadful things, even if we say it's in
God's name. We know that.
But we also know that
we are saved. That God loved his creation so much that he came down
to live as one of us. He knows what it's like to be human. And his
death in some way assures us that we are loved and forgiven. And the
Holy Spirit indwells us, if we allow him to, and enables us to live
far more in the way that God intended – in harmony with ourselves,
with each other, with our world, and with God. Amen.
