Darkness was over the face of the earth. Pitch black wisps over what is void and formless. The world is uncreated, it has not reached it’s glory. The story is only beginning.
A wail breaks the damp night air. A few streetlights and lamps on the houses pierce the foggy darkness. A man starts yelling and the wails grow louder and louder. The sounds pass by and disappear back into the night. Darkness was over the face of the earth.
“I am a sick man… I am a spiteful man. I am an unattractive man.” This is how one Russian novelist described the state of man, his own condition. I walk up the steaming summer asphalt, tiny shards of glass litter the street. Multiple holes mark the windows on this street. A bitter scent of pepper spray meets me at the corner. About a dozen cops are running around, and a man is slammed up against the front of a cop car. “I believe my liver is diseased. However, I know nothing at all about my disease, and do not know for certain what ails me. I don’t consult a doctor for it, and never have, though I have a respect for medicine and doctors.”
A dingy old apartment building rests silently on this summer eve. In a dark closet, the end has come. Life has become to painful, waking and ending every day with horrible fear. The rope goes taught. The air becomes silent. Darkness covers the face of the earth.
The newspapers are full of it. A man of God, a priest, a pastor, and a number of young people walk away shaking their fist at God. How many times will the church have to apologize in one century? This hospital for sinners is becoming a morgue for dead souls. The light that was intended to pierce the darkness is consumed by it.
Pain. It all comes back to pain. How could a good God allow that to happen? Curse God and die!
There’s a lot of noise. A man groans as he scrapes the boils on his skin. The scabs fall on the dirty ground. A 21st century philosopher asks: why do bad things happen to good people? So do this man’s friends. He tries to answer them. A 21st century preacher adds: you only need a little more faith! He only adds to the clamour. He only adds to the winds of folly.
Pain amplifies the cacophony of shouting voices. It highlights the darkness, the shadows, the depravity. And in the noise, we wonder if God exists. We doubt His goodness. We don’t want to admit – we need a doctor.
But maybe God really does shout in our pain. Maybe it really is God’s megaphone to rouse a dying world. Maybe God really does command us to come and follow Him before the rope goes taught and the pepper spray fills the air. Maybe we should believe the doctor when he tells us that our liver is diseased and our bodies are being slowly being poisoned. Maybe that tornado of glory will show up in the ashes and scabs that lie fallen around us.
A light shines in the darkness. A voice comes out of the whirlwind. The true light is coming into what is formless and void. The One who made leviathan is making a new world.