As we enter our Lenten preaching series, “In the Beginning… A Journey from Chaos to Grace”, we turn to some of the most ancient and profound stories of Scripture. In the opening chapters of Genesis, we encounter a vision of the world that speaks to the deepest human questions: Where did we come from? What has gone wrong? Where is God in the midst of chaos?
Over the next five weeks, we will explore five foundational stories:
Creation (Genesis 1:1–2:4a) – God’s self-giving act of bringing the world into order and life.
The Human Struggle for Trust (Genesis 2:15–17; 3:1–7) – A story of desire, fear, and broken relationship.
Cain and Abel (Genesis 4:1–16) – The dangers of rivalry and resentment, and God’s persistent mercy.
The Flood (Genesis 6:5–22; 9:8–17) – Divine grief at human violence and the promise of renewal.
Babel (Genesis 11:1–9) – How human ambition disrupts harmony, scattering us from one another.
These are not written as modern histories. They are deep theological reflections, shaped across generations, speaking into the crises and hopes of ancient Israel—and still to us today.
When and Why Were These Stories Written?
Genesis 1–11 draws from some of the oldest traditions in Scripture. These stories were first shared as oral teachings, passed down through communities over centuries, likely with roots as far back as 1000 BCE or earlier. They reflect Israel’s reflections on the human condition, the nature of God, and their place in the world, often responding to the dominant cultural myths of surrounding empires.
The texts that we now read in our Bibles took shape in their current form during and after the Babylonian exile in the 6th century BCE, when Jerusalem had fallen, the temple was destroyed, and the people were displaced. In the midst of trauma and dislocation, these stories were gathered and carefully woven together to affirm a hopeful, God-centred understanding of the world—a world still held in sacred purpose, even when all seemed lost.
We can hear multiple traditions at work in these chapters:
The Priestly tradition, offering a vision of ordered creation, blessing, and Sabbath.
The Yahwist tradition¹, telling earthier, more intimate stories of gardens, brothers, and cities.
By the time they were compiled into the scroll we now call Genesis, they had become a theological prologue to Israel's story—a meditation on the universal human condition and God's unwavering presence within it.
Genesis 1–11: A Revolutionary Re-framing of Origins
The stories of Genesis 1–11 were not written in isolation. They emerged within a world already filled with ancient stories about how things began. Civilisations like Babylon, Assyria, and Egypt told powerful myths of creation, destruction, and the gods' dealings with humanity—stories Israel would have known well, especially during the trauma of exile.
But Genesis responds to these traditions with something radically different. In a world where creation was often imagined as the accidental outcome of violent battles between rival gods, Genesis proclaims that creation begins with peace, intention, and generosity. God speaks, and life unfolds. There is no struggle, no war, no death required to make the world—only the self-giving presence of a God who calls it all good.
Where neighbouring cultures described humans as servants created to carry out the burdens of the gods, Genesis declares that humanity is made in the divine image, sharing in God's own creative work and entrusted with the care of the earth.
Even the flood story—common in ancient mythology—is transformed. In Genesis, the flood becomes not the rage of unpredictable gods but the grief of a God who cannot ignore human violence. And where other flood stories end in fear and domination, Genesis ends with a covenant: a promise of ongoing relationship, mercy, and care for all creation.
These stories were revolutionary in their time. They offered a new way to understand the world—not as a place of chaos ruled by distant, warring powers, but as a sacred gift, held together by a God of life, blessing, and faithful presence.
The Shape of Genesis
Genesis divides naturally into two sweeping movements:
Chapters 1–11 – The primeval history, offering wide, archetypal stories about creation, human nature, and the struggle between chaos and order.
Chapters 12–50 – The ancestral history, focused on Abraham, Sarah, and their descendants, where the covenant with God takes root.
This Lent, we are immersing ourselves in that first movement—stories that wrestle with the nature of God, the world, and the human heart. These are not distant legends. They are living wisdom about why the world is the way it is, and whether grace is still possible amid failure, violence, and disconnection.
How Have We Misread These Stories?
The shift to literal readings of these stories is a result of post-Reformation culture wars, especially in the late 19th and early 20th century, not genuine theological development. In recent centuries, Genesis 1–11 became entangled in debates over science, history, and human origins—concerns foreign to the world of the text itself. In some settings, these chapters were reduced to explanations of human sin or used to condemn and divide.
But these stories are not scientific accounts or legal arguments. They are theological meditations, rooted deeply in the Jewish imagination, designed to reveal enduring truths about God's relationship with the world:
That creation is good, sacred, and sustained by divine generosity.
That humans wrestle with trust, with one another, and within themselves.
That God does not abandon the world to chaos but continually invites us into renewal.
Why These Stories Matter Now
Returning to these stories is becoming increasingly relevant in the developing chaos of the world today. As we face global instability, environmental crisis, conflict, and social fragmentation, the ancient wisdom of Genesis 1–11 speaks with fresh urgency. These are stories born from times of upheaval, displacement, and fear—times not so different from our own. They remind us that God is still present over the deep, still speaking life into disorder, still calling humanity to the sacred work of trust, repair, and renewal. Far from being distant myths, these stories are a mirror to our present moment and a guide for living with courage and grace amid uncertainty.
Why This Series for Lent?
Lent is a season of returning—returning to God, to ourselves, and to the deep story we are part of. By spending these weeks with Genesis 1–11, we are invited to trace the movement from chaos to grace, from disconnection to belonging, from fear to trust.
These ancient stories are not just about people long ago. They are about us. About the patterns we repeat. About the God who still speaks light into our darkness.
As we journey through these stories, may we hear again the voice that calls life from the deep, and may we find that same Spirit hovering over our own chaos, bringing us back to life once more.
Footnotes
¹ Yahwist tradition: This term is standard in biblical scholarship to describe the tradition associated with the use of the divine name represented by the Hebrew letters YHVH. Most of our English Bibles follow the practice of replacing YHVH with "LORD" in capital letters. Out of respect for my Jewish heritage, which avoids pronouncing the sacred name, I prefer to use "Hashem" ("The Name") when speaking of God in this context.
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