|
In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.
The earth was formless and void,
and darkness was over the surface of the deep
(Genesis 1:1-2).
Formless. Void. Darkness.
In the original Hebrew, the word translated "formless" is used to describe that which is without shape and is barren--a waste. It lacks definition and function. The word translated "void" is defined as "that which is empty and desires to be filled." I'm not aware of ever having such a visceral reaction to the definition of a word. It's the first, but not the only time in scripture that creation is reported as restless, "For the anxious longing of the creation waits eagerly for the revealing of the sons of God" (Romans 8:19-22). The word translated "darkness" is described in The Message as, "an inky blackness." Darkness that can be felt. A darkness so deep and pervasive that panic fills the lungs.
Formless. Void. Darkness.
And yet, without lifting his stylus, Moses appended a note that anticipated the transformative power of God's creative voice, "God's Spirit brooded like a bird above the watery abyss." Something wondrous was about to happen.
Now, hold that thought for a moment.
As I've mentioned before and often, I have insomnia. Fortunately, it's not chronic; it only shows up at night. At bedtime. There's a reason why spiritual desolation is metaphorically called, "The Dark Night of the Soul." When I have insomnia, with each advance of the second hand, the ticks of the clock seem to grow louder and farther apart. And deep into the night, elemental fears are awakened. Fears around lack of identity, purpose, and worth; fears around loneliness and isolation--with subsequent feelings of suspicion, resentment, betrayal; fears around hopelessness. There's a familiar, primordial echo to these fears.
Formless. Void. Darkness.
Now back to creation.
When, at the close of the first century, the Apostle John penned his gospel, he intentionally recalled the language of creation from Genesis. John wrote of Jesus' creative role:
In the beginning was the Word,
and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
He was in the beginning with God.
All things came into being through Him, and
apart from Him nothing came into being
that has come into being
(John 1:1-3).
Throughout his New Testament writings, John employed three metaphors to describe the formational work of Jesus in the souls of men and women: Jesus is Life; Jesus is Love; Jesus is Light. Ooh.
As in the beginning, so too, now.
As with earth and heaven, so too, you and me.
Jesus--Life, Love, and Light--
Gives Life to shape the formless;
Gives Love to fill the void;
Gives Light to dispel the darkness.
Can you think of any fear that cripples the human spirit that is not, at its root, the fruit of either formless, void, or darkness?
How and when and where and with whom, specifically, do the primordial echoes of formless, void, and darkness show up in you?
What stories consistently reinforce feelings of formless, void, and darkness in you? Where might you lose your stories, and find yourself, instead, in the story of Jesus?
When you are in a place of formless, void, and darkness, how might the image of the Spirit, "brooding like a bird" above you, give you patience?
Why might a relationship with Jesus--as Life, Love, and Light--be essential to overcoming a sense of formless, void, and darkness? What spiritual practices might help you build greater trust--and, therefore, courage--in Jesus?
| 
