John 1:1-5 (NRSVue)
1 In the
beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He
was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through him, and
without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4 in him
was life, and the life was the light of all people. 5 The light shines in the
darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.
Reflection
There is one
thing that I want you to remember about God who was the creator of both the widest
expanses of the universe and the creator of the tiniest mammal, the Etruscan
shrew, weighing just 1.8 grams. I want
you to remember that God looked at everything that God had made and saw that “it
was very good” (Genesis 1:31).
That means that the light that God created is good; just ask those lost at sea. Light is a very good thing to see when lost at sea.
That means that the moon that God created is good; just ask the astronauts who landed on the moon. They were quite happy to find that the surface did not consist of quicksand. The moon is good.
That means that even the mosquito that God created must be good in some inexplicable way; just ask the frog who especially yearns to taste the red-filled juicy ones. As much as I hate to say it, even the mosquito is good…for food.
And if the mosquito was created good, that means that the other bloodsucking jerks in your life must have been created good as well. Jesus taught us to “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44). Jesus did not simply pull that idea out of thin air. The idea that even our enemies are worthy of love and worthy of time dedicated to them in prayer is fundamental to the very fabric of creation. People may act in junky ways, but God does not create junk. Therefore, we do not ever get to treat them like junk. No matter what junky things they might have done, we do not get to treat them like junk. They are not junk.
God does not create junk, and followers of Jesus do not get the luxury of forgetting that.
Liam was eight years old and, unfortunately, he was convinced that he was junk.
He was not fast like Jordan. He was not funny like Maya. He was not good at drawing like Emma. And he definitely was not brave like his little sister, who climbed trees like she had wings.
One Saturday morning, after a week of feeling like he messed up everything he touched, Liam sat on the back steps of his house and kicked at the dirt. A cloud of dust puffed up and clung to his new white shoes.
“Figures,” he muttered. “I’m made of dust; it might as well stick to me. I’m just dust. I’m nothing special.”
His grandmother, who had come outside to water her tomato plants, heard his muttering. She set down her watering can and sat beside him.
“What’s this about dust?” she asked.
Liam shrugged. “The Bible says God made us from dust. And dust is… nothing. It’s junk. I’m junk.”
His grandmother casually reached down, scooped a handful of the dry earth, and let it sift through her fingers.
“Do you know what this dust can become?” she asked.
Liam shook his head.
“With a little water, this dust can become clay. Clay can become a pot that carries water. Clay can become a bowl that feeds a family. Clay can become a lamp that brings light. Dust is only junk if nobody touches it. But when God touches dust it becomes something good; it becomes something with a purpose.”
She looked in his eyes and said, “God has touched you with divine fingers, shaping and molding you into a person with purpose.”
Liam looked down at the ground again. “I’m pretty sure I mess up too much.”
Grandma leaned closer. “Liam, listen to me. God never created junk. Not ever. When God made you, it was not a mistake. God is shaping you into a masterpiece even now.”
She pointed to the tomato plants—green, tall, full of fruit.
“Do you know what these started as?” she asked.
“Seeds,” Liam said.
“Tiny seeds. Smaller than your fingernail. But God made them good—and they grew, full of juicy, wonderful goodness. And you are made good. You are growing to be full of goodness just like these tomatoes.”
Liam was quiet for a moment. Then he scooped up a handful of dust.
“Maybe I’m not junk,” he said softly.
His grandmother whispered, “You’re God’s dust, sweetheart; molded and shaped for a purpose.”
Liam tucked the handful of dust into his pocket as if it were treasure. He felt better. God had made him good. God was still shaping him into something good, to do good. He could live with that.
Genesis 1:27 tells us that “God created humans in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.” But it is Genesis 2:7 where God is described as creating the first human in the same way a potter fashions some pottery from the dust. “Then the Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being” (Genesis 2:7).
Just as a clay jar is created and shaped to hold precious water, we too are shaped and created by God for a purpose. John 1:3 tells us that the Word, the wisdom of God, brought “all things…into being, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness” (John 1:3-5).
We are created for life. We were created with light. Even science tells us that we were created from the dust of stars. We are created with light, to be light, to be goodness. The wisdom of God, the Word of God decided that it would be good to create you. You are created good so that you can create goodness.
Have you ever thought about that? Have you ever considered that all you create is for the purpose of goodness, just as God created everything to be good?
What I mean is that God created us good so that we might create goodness wherever we are found in the world.
The reformer, Martin Luther, taught this very thing. He said, “The Christian shoemaker does his duty not by putting little crosses on the shoes, but by making good shoes, because God is interested in good craftsmanship.”
Godly artists create works of art that draw us toward goodness and love.
Godly bread makers create bread that nourishes and feeds the hungry.
Godly law enforcement keep the peace in the most merciful and good way possible.
Godly teachers create an environment where children can find and use the good gifts that God placed within.
God created you good so that you might create goodness.
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it” (John 1:5).
We are created for goodness. That idea is what troubled Alfred Bernhard Nobel late in life. As a young man, Alfred became fascinated with nitroglycerin, a dangerously unstable explosive. He spent years experimenting until he discovered how to stabilize it, eventually creating dynamite in 1867. This invention made him one of the wealthiest men of his time.
But his success came with tragedy. In 1864, an explosion at the family’s factory killed his younger brother. The personal harm that his creation caused haunted him for years.
Late in life, Alfred read a premature obituary published by a French newspaper that mistook him for his deceased brother. It called him “the merchant of death” for creating explosives used in warfare.
Inspired by his many letters with Catholic pacifist Bertha von Suttner, Alfred chose to include a Peace Prize in his will. In it, he directed that his fortune be used to establish prizes for physics, chemistry, medicine, literature, and, most surprisingly, peace. He could not undo the creation of explosives, but he could use the fruit of that creation to make an award that sought to advance peace. God created Alfred good so that he might create something good.
God does not create junk.
God created us good and created us for goodness.
God saves us out of God’s own goodness.
And, just maybe, when God looks at what we create and the goodness that our creation spreads into the world, God will look at our creations and say, “Your creations are very good. You are very good. Now rest in the goodness of my arms.”
