THE SIGN OF THE RAINBOWReading: Genesis 7: 11-16; 8: 6-12; 9: 8-17
It could seem rather strange to be starting a series of reflections on living water with the story of Noah and the flood, a flood that wiped out all of creation except one righteous man and his family and pairs of every living thing. This happened, so the ancient writers tell us, because there was so much corruption, violence and depravity on the earth that God was sorry he had ever created them. It broke his heart, so much so that he decided to destroy them. But even in that drastic decision there was a seed of hope. There was still one person who found favour with God. We are told that Noah consistently followed God and enjoyed a close relationship with him.
We have all been so familiar with the story of Noah’s ark since childhood that, as adults, it’s easy to miss some of the things it’s really telling us. We can waste so much time and energy arguing whether we literally believe that this event actually happened that we can miss what is being said behind the story. One of the things that strikes me very forcibly is the importance of and the difference that one solitary life can make. Because of Noah, of the life he lived, because of his relationship with God, the world was saved.
Noah was a person of hope who trusted in the promises of God, against all evidence to the contrary. He was obedient to the voice of God, did what everyone else thought was crazy and then had the faith to wait until the waters of destruction had subsided. That took some time. The raven brought him no nurturing of his hope, but the dove was different. Three times it was released, twice it returned, each time building confidence and affirming the promise. The third time it did not come back. That was the signal for new beginnings, new life, hope for the whole created order.
And God never does things by halves. He makes a covenant with Noah, his descendants and with all the earth. The sign of this permanent promise is the rainbow. “When I send clouds over the earth, the rainbow will be seen in the clouds and I will remember my covenant with you and with everything that lives. Never again will there be a flood that will destroy all life.”
Today there is as much wickedness and evil as there was in the days of Noah. I can quite imagine that this still breaks God’s heart and there are times when he must be sorry that he ever made us. Totally unnecessary and unjustifiable war, disease, oppression and disaster stalk the earth. The clouds are gathering so ominously. Many live in fear of total destruction. That’s the macrocosm. In the microcosm of our own communities and our own personal lives we can experience the same despair and hopelessness. In the midst of all of this it is vital to remember that every human life counts, that one single life, lived in friendship with God and, as a result, in right relationship with everyone and everything else, can make a huge difference. As we trust in God’s promise, allow ourselves to be captured by hope, never give up and look for the rainbow that will surely come, then we, too, can be catalysts for new beginnings.
Sometimes I have seen a rainbow that is so vibrant that another is reflected off the first. There are two of them. What generosity! Is there some way in which we can allow ourselves to be stretched beyond what we think we can do, to be signs of hope? For example, is there someone, some situation, some parish or organisation or some country far away that needs a sign of hope and encouragement to keep on going?