On of the techniques used by Jewish rabbis when teaching was the use of hyperbole, or exaggeration. We often do the same. It is not uncommon for us to engage in hyperbole in our own conversations. When we say someone has “tons” of money, we do not literally mean if we weighed all their money it would weigh thousands of pounds. But we would all understand the point being made: that person has a lot of money.
There is something jolting about the opening words of our text, “It is not good for the man to be alone. (v. 18) It is jolting because it is the first time we have heard that something wasn’t good. Up to this point in Genesis, we have only heard the word “good.”. Six times in Genesis 1 we are told that God saw what he had made and it was good (1:4, 10, 12, 18, 21, 25). And once we are told things were very good (1:31). That word “good” is like a drumbeat in the story of creation, beating out a steady cadence.
A number of weeks ago, our theme for worship was “spiritual warfare.” Remember that? We were reminded about our unseen enemy in the spiritual realm, the devil and the demons. We spent some time considering Paul’s encouragement to put on the full armor of God from Ephesians 6. Our arsenal includes truth and righteousness and faith and the Gospel of peace and prayer. Remember that? One of the things we did not talk about that day was the unseen army who fights for us. We are talking now about the holy angels.
The pulpit should never become a place for politics. But given the fact that we are nearing a national election in our country and one cannot use any type of media right now without seeing some candidate’s ad, please permit a simple observation. Long ago I was taught that elected officials are called “public servants.” Servants. Those who aspire to high office should want to be servants who serve the citizens. Here’s the observation. As I see and hear political ads, I don’t often see what I might call aspirations for service.
I don’t know if you have ever noticed a certain little feature in our hymnal. At the top of each page, in small letters, is a word that describes what type of hymn is on the page. There are categories like Christmas and Easter. There headings like Redeemer, Justification, Prayer, and Commitment. I have here the hymnal from when I was a child.
Have you ever stopped to think about what it must have been like to spend time around Jesus? We have all known that person who seemed like they were perfect. That kid in high school. Straight A’s. Star on all the teams. Great hair. Great personality.
If you had been walking around a shopping mall in the 1990s you would have seen a particularly odd type of decoration lining the walls of the novelty shops. These bizarre posters were normal sized, but they didn’t look like much. No people, no pictures, no slogans, just little bits of color all arranged in perfectly random chaos. You might describe them as a “colorful-static.”
How do you want to be remembered? Have you ever thought about that? Some people spend a lot of time thinking about their “legacy” and how they will be remembered. Do you want to be remembered as a loving husband, a great dad, the guy on the block who had the best looking yard? Do you want to be remembered as the model wife and mother, the woman who “had it all together”? Do you want to be remembered for your accomplishments on the field or your faithful years of service on the job?
There is an interesting detail tucked into the story of when Jesus went to his hometown of Nazareth and preached in the synagogue. After Jesus got done teaching on that Sabbath Day, the people said this, What’s this wisdom that has been given to him? (Mark 6:2) They said this not because Jesus had given them a stimulating lecture on physics or geometry. But he had spoken to them about the Kingdom of God, about prophecy and fulfillment, about himself being the Messiah. Jesus had a different kind of wisdom.
When Jesus taught his disciples to pray, he taught them to say, Give us this day our daily bread (Matthew 6:11). It is a very simple, no-nonsense petition. In it we simply ask our dear Father to give us enough bread for this day.
I have sometimes wondered if when the disciples heard this, they remembered the stories they would have surely heard about the “daily bread” the Lord had given to their ancestors in the desert under Moses.
