Reclaiming the Lord's Rainbow

 

Jesu Juva

Genesis 9:8-17                                                                       

 July 25, 2021

Proper 12B                   

 Dear saints of our Savior~

          Is there anything more ubiquitous than the rainbow?  Rainbows are everywhere: websites, billboards, and banners—churches, schools and synagogues—yard signs, t-shirts, and lapel pins.  Of course, most of these rainbows are symbolic.  They have nothing to do with light refracted by precipitation in the atmosphere.  Instead, the rainbow has been transposed into a symbol—a symbol of human pride.  Beneath this rainbow God’s laws no longer apply.  This rainbow reflects not light, but darkness. This rainbow asserts that we know better than God when it comes to marriage and sex.  But this rainbow is not God’s rainbow.    

          Today we get a timely reminder that God Himself is the giver of the rainbow.  He’s the rainbow Creator.  His promises and His purposes are all that matter when it comes to the rainbow.  Today we have an opportunity to reclaim the Lord’s rainbow—the real rainbow—and to remember why it is a source of hope for all people.

          So let me introduce you to Noah.  Now, it might seem that Noah needs no introduction.  Noah, his ark, and the flood form one of those rare Biblical accounts that are well known even outside the church.  But did you know that when Noah was born, his father thought that his baby boy was the Messiah?  The name “Noah” means “comfort.”  Noah’s proud papa said, “Out of the ground that the Lord has cursed this one shall give us comfort from our work and from the toil of our hands” (Gen. 5:29).  Although he made what Luther calls a “pious mistake,” Noah’s daddy wasn’t too far off target:  his son would indeed point ahead with clarity and comfort to the life and ministry of the Messiah.

          Noah grew up in a corrupt world filled with violence (6:11).  But Noah was different.  Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord.  Noah was a righteous man, blameless in his generation.  Noah walked with God (6:8-9).  A lot of children’s Bible story books put it this way:  “People everywhere were very bad, but Noah was very good.”  That’s not quite right, however.  Noah was good, but not because he wasn’t bad.  Noah was good because Noah had faith in God—faith that God would one day send His Son, born of a woman, to save us from our sins.

          Noah had six hundred candles on his birthday cake when he became captain of the ark.  Of course, when Noah and his family entered the ark —eight people in all—their neighbors thought they were rightwing religious nuts—crazy conspiracy theorists.  But after the Lord shut the door of the ark, those same neighbors were clinging like barnacles to the sides of the ark, as the waters soon swept them away.  The outside of the ark was transformed into a watery graveyard.  There all those who had not found favor in the eyes of the Lord—all those without faith in God’s promises—died.  Everything—everyone—all flesh—died.  Whatever disaster footage you’ve seen of earthquakes or tsunamis—no matter how many corpses you’ve seen stacked like firewood—this old world has never known a disaster like the great flood.

          But inside the ark there were eight people—eight people delivered from a watery grave.  They (and the animals) survived because God was with them.  And finally, after about a year, there was a freshly picked olive branch in the beak of Noah’s dove.  Although Noah wasn’t the Messiah and didn’t live up to his father’s expectations, yet he did indeed foreshadow God’s Son, Jesus.  Because just like Noah, Jesus also built an ark—an ark we call the “church”—an ark to save His family—a family of which you are a member. 

          The church of Jesus, like Noah’s ark, isn’t filled with “good” people.  No, this ark is filled with sinners who need saving.  And if nothing else, the account of the flood and the ark is an object lesson on just how much God hates sin.  God is patient and slow to anger, it’s true.  But His threats are not empty words.  God means what He says and says what He means. 

          God hates sin; but we, on the other hand, are pretty cavalier about it.  Often there is little to distinguish those of us inside this ark from those who are outside this ark.  And that’s a shame.  There is a flood that threatens us—a flood not of water, but a flood of evil and immorality and unbelief that threatens to sweep us away for good.  And far too often we’re okay with dangling our toes into that deadly torrent—toes then feet, feet then ankles, ankles then knees.  If you saw footage of the flash flooding in western Germany last week, view that and every flood as a reminder to repent before it’s too late.

          Confess your sin and take your place here, in the ark of the baptized.  On Good Friday Jesus stepped in and took the place of all the “bad” people—people like you.  There the bad person you are, Christ became.  The wrath you deserve, Christ endured.  All your badness was swallowed up by the good Son of God.  This Jesus—now raised from the dead—joins us here in this ark whenever two or three are gathered in His name, bringing forgiveness for our sins, deliverance from death.  “Take heart,” He says, “it is I.  Do not be afraid.”

          And that brings us back to the rainbow.  The message of the rainbow to Noah and his family was also, “Do not be afraid.”  At least three times in today’s reading from Genesis chapter 9 the Lord says, “never again.”  Never again shall there be a flood to destroy all flesh.  Luther suggests that this repetition was for Noah’s sake, because he was so traumatized by the flood.  And so God said, over and over, “Never again.” 

          Do you remember the flash flood that happened here eleven years ago last week?  If you were here, you remember it.  Seven inches or so in one afternoon.  Basements and businesses were flooded out, but no one died.  It was nothing like Noah experienced.  But if you were affected, you had trauma.  You panicked for weeks after that every time thunder rumbled in the distance.  Why? You were afraid it could happen again. 

          But what if God had said, “Never again?”  And what if God had given a sign to back up those words?  What comfort would have been yours?!  Noah got those words together with the sign of the rainbow.  It was God’s unmistakable, unbreakable covenant that He would never again wipe out all life with flood waters. 

          The Lord didn’t promise that there would be no more storms or no more floods.  Wind and waves will continue to threaten.  There will be loss, there will be hardship, sickness and sorrow.  But that’s also the beauty of the rainbow!  The rainbow only appears when there is a storm.  No rain, no rainbow.  When things seem most threatening, as lightning crashes, then and there God gives the sign of the rainbow.  And God Himself sees the rainbow.  It’s as much a sign for Him as it is for you.  When the storms of life threaten you, the rainbow reminds you that nothing can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.  He will never forget about you.

          It brings to mind one early morning several years ago when I took the photo on the cover of today’s bulletin.  It wasn’t a terrible storm; and you’ve certainly

seen rainbows more majestic than that one.  But the focal point of that photo isn’t just the rainbow, but also the cross that was mounted on the peak of our roof.  The rainbow and the cross go together.  The rainbow and the cross tell the whole story on this Sunday.  The rainbow is a sign that God restrains His wrath against sinners—that He is, first and foremost, a God of mercy, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.  He does not punish us as our sins deserve.  But the cross reminds us that Jesus—He was punished as our sins deserve.  All the righteous wrath of God that we deserve was heaped upon Jesus when He suffered as our sacred substitute.  The rainbow declares that God holds back and shows restraint; but at the cross God held nothing back—not the thorns, not the nails, not the spit-filled rage from the lips of bad people—bad people who were yet loved by a good God.

          And so, the cry goes out:  All aboard!  Take your seat here in the ark of the church.  For here the Lord Jesus gives signs surpassing the rainbow—sacraments so that we might always taste and see that the Lord is good—that our sins have been forgiven—and that we will be raised from death like Jesus.  One day this old world will come to a screeching halt.  The pride of scoffing sinners will be silenced.  The world will not die a soggy death, for God has promised never again.  But the world will be destroyed by fire.  But in the ark of the church you are safe.  You are fireproof.  Soaked in baptismal water, you are safe.  Beneath the rainbow, joined by Jesus, you will be saved. 

          In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. . . .