In college, I took an Old Testament course that challenged me to think of Genesis 1 not as a sweet fairy-tale or myth, but rather a very intentional, nuanced and structured environment that took fully into account the use of the six-day metaphor.
We must risk by attacking injustices. We must risk our money, our time and our energy to help re-author a world in need, Owen says.
My professor wasn't arguing for a six, 24-hour day creation story, but he was expressing his belief that the shape of Genesis 1 (and the intent of the writer) provides six literal days to help author a rhythm to life.
We work six days and rest one. It's the cycle, the pattern of God, that's important. And this got me thinking: What if the structure of Genesis 1 has something to offer how we daily live? Allow me to explain.
First, God dreams. God sees in the mind's eye a world pregnant with possibilities. Then, the breath of God hovers. God peers out over the deep, imagining the potential, calculating the odds and setting in motion the impossible.
Finally, God moves to risk-taking. God takes known material and combines it with the unknown. New and unusual opportunities arise from this risk. Sea monsters and birds, plants and vegetation, animals and even humans are born.
And none of this would have happened if God had not dreamed, hovered and then risked.
Artist and theologian Troy Bronsink expands on this model of Genesis 1 in his book "Drawn."
He asserts that this pattern, the rhythm of "dreaming," "hovering" and "risking," is actually the same rhythm churches and individuals use when making decisions. And I agree with him.
Last month, we celebrated the 50th anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream Speech." Thousands marched to Washington, D.C., remembering the speech, remembering the hope, when those unforgettable words were uttered: "I have a dream today."
King proved that if the dream is powerful enough, culture, life and even history can be changed for the better.
We are Christ followers because (like King) we carry within us a dream. A dream where:
● Life offers wholeness, food and care to those who are without
● The disenfranchised and downtrodden are noticed and heard
● The Kingdom of God is at hand
As Christ followers, we must never stop dreaming God-size dreams.
But King didn't write this speech on the first day of the civil rights movement. It took going to prison, hosting meetings, reflecting and praying to birth it out. In short, he spent time hovering.
Like King (and God), we must spend quality time thinking and reflecting. We must wait, listen, probe, analyze, question and discern what God's dream can be and how it can unfold. But the next step is the most crucial, and the one God's expecting us to take.
Who cares if you have eyes to see God's dreams if you aren't telling others or doing anything about it? We have to go out into the world and take known material and mix it with unknown material. We have to risk.
The story of creation shows us that God's love is concrete. We are public people standing to profess and to offer the beauty and majesty of God. So, we must risk by attacking injustices. We must risk our money, our time and our energy to help re-author a world in need.
We must physically help, nurture, hope, hold, love, care, feed and shepherd those who still need to see God's dream. We must strive, give, aid and listen to those who don't have eyes to see it.
So, keep dreaming, keep hovering, but don't forget to risk. Isn't this what the church is called to do anyway?
Barrett Owen serves as the admissions associate at McAfee School of Theology as well as pastor of National Heights Baptist Church in Fayetteville, Ga. He blogs at Liminality. A version of this article first appeared in Tableaux, an online publication of McAfee School of Theology, and is used with permission.