TEXT: Genesis 1:9-13

SUBJECT: Henry on Genesis 1 #6

Tonight, with the Lord’s blessing, we’ll get back to our study of Matthew Henry on Genesis 1. The book we’re using is Henry’s great Commentary on the Whole Bible. If you’re interested in the Puritans but feel nervous about reading them, this is a fine place to start. Unlike so many Puritans, Henry knew when to shut up and move on.

His method is crystal clear: he tells you what a passage means and then draws a lesson or two from it. Some of the more "scientific" commentators don’t approve of this, but the People of God like it very much because it helps them to understand the Word and to do something with it. That was Matthew Henry’s goal in writing his commentary—and mine in teaching from it. Let’s know what God says and do what He says!

So far, we have looked at the first two days of the Creation Week. On the first day, of course, God created everything, but it was all mixed up and did not bring much glory to Him and wouldn’t have done us any good at all. Thus, after creating all things, He began setting them in order.

First, He separated darkness from light. Next, He separated the waters—clouds above, seas below, and the firmament or the sky or atmosphere in-between. All these works show the existence of a Creator who is God and some of His attributes, especially His power, wisdom, goodness, and feel for beauty.

Now, we move on to Day Three where we have two works of God: (1) He separates the water from the land, and (2) He causes the land to spring up with grass, grains, flowers, vines, trees, bushes, and other green living things—but not weeds!

If you’ve read The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, you know Sauron (who is something like the devil) took great pleasure in rooting up trees and scorching the earth. His kingdom of Mordor was bleak and ugly and dead. How different this wicked spirit is from God who made plant life, not only to feed us, but also to make us happy with its beauty and variety.

We don’t pay enough attention to this—and we’re not thankful enough for it. Fruit and vegetables and grains could all be the same color with the same texture and the same taste (or non-taste as far as that goes). But look at what the Lord gave up! Purple grapes, red apples, yellow corn, orange apricots. We also have smooth watermelons and fuzzy peaches, not to mention prickly cactus. Some of the beauty is disguised: avocados are wrinkly and black on the outside, but creamy and green on the inside. And what about a pomegranate! It’s nothing to look at, till you cut it open and then, what could be more delicious looking than that? Think also of the scents of a rose, of heather, of mint.

The Psalmist wasn’t just filling space when he wrote,

If it’s this wonderful now—after the Fall and after we’ve lost our eye for beauty—how magnificent must it have been "in the beginning"?

I’m getting carried away with myself. Let’s get back to Matthew Henry. He pretty much follows the outline of the passage: (1) the creation of the seas, (2) the appearance of dry land, and (3) the calling of plants out of the earth

THE SEAS

Henry has said a lot in one paragraph. I’ll just highlight a few of them and let you do most of the thinking about them.

The Almighty Word of God. Nothing on earth is mightier than the ocean. It will sink the biggest ship, knock down the thickest seawall and wash away everything in its path—sturdy trees, well-built houses, you name it, and the sea can destroy it. But the mighty sea is not almighty! It meekly obeys the command of its Master. When He says, "So far and no farther", it goes precisely that far—and not an inch beyond it. What Majesty is in God! No wonder the disciples said,

The ocean’s navigability. What if the ocean was made of molten lava? Or even something less sinister, such as ice? No one could cross it by ship, which means the travel and trade that have so enriched human life could not be. We’d all be far poorer, less well-fed, and dumber than we are. And one more thing: how would the Gospel have gotten into the world without ships and the seas that carry them?

The ocean’s boundaries. People who live on the coast ought to be deeply grateful that God set boundaries for the ocean. Water is unstable. If you’ve ever tried to carry a bowl of water through the living room, you know it nearly always makes a mess! My wife would rather see me dragging a dead body over the carpet (as long as it wasn’t bleeding) than a pan of water! But the Lord set limits to the ocean. The trillions of barrels that are a ten minute’s drive from here will stay were they are—so we can both enjoy the bay and live safely next to it.

This is all very insightful and encouraging, but Henry’s not satisfied, he goes on to compare the seas to something else, something they’re likened to it the Bible.

He’s right about this: the seas are often compared to trouble—and you can see why, they’re restless and relentless, and mysterious to a people who didn’t do much sea faring.

But the troubles of life—like the seas—are limited to the earth! When the believer dies—and especially after the Resurrection—he has no worries at all, no regrets, no guilt, no tears, nothing but peace and glory and joy!

The other thing he gets out of this is that our problems—like the oceans—are carefully limited by God. The ocean could flood Kansas if the Lord permitted it. But He doesn’t. The same is true with our problems, they only come by the permission of God, and even then, are tempered by His mercy. See the book of Job for proof, or I Corinthians 10:13,

Henry doesn’t spend much time on expounding the verse—because he doesn’t need to. The land, apparently, was once on the ocean floor, but by the command of God, some of it rose up out of the ocean. It came out of the waters for us to live on. Without the gift of land, human life would not be possible. One could live on a ship or a platform at sea, but what would he build it out of?

Thus, we’re totally dependent on dry land, and, therefore, on the goodness of God who gave it to us. Have you thanked the Lord for the ground you’re standing on? I always do, when I get off a plane, but we should do it every day. The earth is a great blessing.

From the verse, Henry draws a fine lesson: just as the earth is useless under water, so our gifts are of no value unless they come out. Have we asked the Lord to uncover our gifts? And, if He has, are we putting them to good use—or giving them a daily burial at sea?

The greatest feat of human engineering (that I know anything about) is the Netherlands. The country was literally reclaimed from the North Sea! The hard-working Dutchmen found a buried land and did something with it. Why don’t you do the same with your gifts? The Dutch didn’t whine about not having a country—they went out and made one! By God’s grace, you can do the same with your gifts in serving the Lord.

The last thing Henry takes up is the creation of plant life. I’ve already hinted at some of it, but there’s more.

When I was younger and more able to stay up than I am now, I used to go grocery shopping at midnight or later. The later I went, the more often I had to go back for things that were on the list, but I missed the first time by them. I was picking out cereal when I noticed I didn’t have any cheese; I was putting the meat into the cart when I remembered the bananas!

The Lord is not like this at all! If He’s going to make man and beast in a few days, they have to have something to eat. Which He creates at the right time. But, of course, we won’t be able to get by on one really humungous meal, so He creates fruits, vegetables, and grains with "the seed in themselves", that is, able to reproduce till we no longer need them.

This recalls the great wisdom of God and also His universal goodness. Man is His highest creation, but we’re not the only ones He cares about. On the Third Day, He created the food to sustain all life on earth. Everything in the world either eats plants or eats things that eat plants.

One more observation here from Henry,

This is more significant than you might suppose. If the plants belong to God, then:

They are His gift to you—and you ought to be thankful for them. You may have planted the tree and watered it or you may have earned the money to buy the fruit, but all your labor and money wouldn’t buy the smallest pea unless God had given it to you.

They are a stewardship from God. If the trees and vines and flowers and grains belong to God, we’ve got to take care of them. In my opinion, today’s environmentalism, is both wicked and stupid. Wicked because it worships the earth instead of the One who made it and stupid because it cannot see the difference between a tree and a man. Its world has no order in it. But having said this, the idea of taking care of the earth comes from God—not from some tree-hugging nut job!

Bumper stickers tell you to save the planet, but that’s only a cliché and not doable. But you can save the land you have some control over. Vandalism and littering are sinful. Paving everything (without a very strong reason) is selfish and short-sighted. The policies of unlimited development (though good for a few people and a short time) deface the world God made and end up hurting everybody in the long run.

A tree is not God; Yosemite is not a Church; the voice of God is not heard in a babbling creek—that’s all nonsense and idolatry. But stewardship is both right and necessary if we’re to love the Lord who made all things and leave a good legacy to the future.