WHEN WE THINK OF GOD, we typically want to jump immediately to what God can do for us. God saves us, we remember. We are grateful. But is this self-centered starting point really the most effective way of thinking about God? Reading this excellent commentary on Genesis by John Walton leads one to question whether the above assertion is the best starting point. Walton stresses that it certainly wasn’t the starting point for Abram and his family. Or better, perhaps, it wasn’t the starting point for God as he revealed himself in the book of Genesis.
In Genesis, the starting point was revelation. Especially after the Tower of Babel it became evident that people had forgotten who God was. They needed reminding. The moves God made were essentially concerned with putting himself in front of the world’s peoples. He covenanted with Abram and his family for them to represent God by the way they lived according to the law they embraced. This covenant is about revelation (what God wants for us), not salvation (what we get from God).
Of course, in the end revelation leads to redemption and salvation. You can’t have one without the other. But the order is important. Get the order wrong and religion falls prey to all kinds of temptations—self-centeredness, human religion, individualism, and false gods. God wanted to remind his creation that he was still around: “Then you will know that I am Yahweh.”
Forgetfulness of God is still a problem. Today it may take a little different form; instead of asking who God is, we are more likely to ask whether God is. But we are still fixed in a sometimes unhealthy way on salvation—what we can get—instead of first opening ourselves to revelation. Because of this we suffer various losses.
The first thing lost is a sense of the distinction between Creator (God) and created (us). We have come to think of the doctrine of revelation as referring to the content of Scripture. Revelation is that, of course. But before it is that, revelation is about God making himself known through creation, through the Holy Spirit, through the mighty acts we celebrate in worship. At the heart of all these “revelations” is a Revealer; recognizing that reminds us that we are creations of that Creator God—mini-revelations ourselves, I suppose.
The second thing lost is a proper sense of synergy between community and individual. The common wisdom holds that our Western culture is too individualistic. You could conceivably make the argument that some Third World and indigenous people groups are too communalistic (at least human rights advocates sometimes argue that). Salvation, in focusing on the fates of both “communities” and “individuals,” tempts us to overemphasize one or the other. Revelation, on the other hand, shifts the focus away from both onto God and insists that both the community and the individual find their true meaning only when in relationship with God.
The third thing lost is the realization that both faith and action are necessary in the Spirit-led life. In insisting on this, John Calvin called to our attention the parable of the lost treasure. The treasure may be lost in the field, Calvin said, and it is a point of faith to recognize that God put it there. But once we realize it is there, it is up to us to act, to go find it. Revelation insists that the treasure, the only treasure, is the one God put in the field.
Finally, an emphasis on salvation to the exclusion of revelation paradoxically leads us to forget the mystery of salvation. We live in a society that worships the problem-solving approach to life. In such a climate, it is easy to reduce the process of salvation to a problem-solving technique that you and I can master. Salvation is not achieved through a technique. Salvation is a miracle. Salvation is a mystery. Salvation is a gift of God.
A proper reading of Genesis reminds us of who God is and what God did. Only when we get those two things straight can we faithfully embrace what God does for us.
Terry C. Muck