Saturday, May 16, 2026
I wonder why the creation story in Genesis puts the seventh day as a day of rest. The initial picture was that God was restless before creation, and so he said, “I’m restless and lonely; I think I’ll go make me a world.”
And for six whole days, he stressed and strained, and by the time it was all done, he was pooped. On the seventh day, he put his feet up and called it “a day.” Now, he’s back on a cloud, letting the world run amok. He’s out of the creation business. Retired. It wore him out. He’s propped up his feet, watching the “glory” of what he made. He’s hoping it will work out, too, trust me. Fingers crossed. Eyes closed. Averting close calls.
God needs a rest. Seriously. We need to put this baby to bed. Give it a rest. The whole notion that the world was “created” or “fashioned” out of nothing is really where our minds poop out. It’s time to give this historical account a rest.
How we explain the universe is funny. The cosmic joke is that the universe is explainable, and an even funnier joke is to call it “unexplainable.” I believe giving it a rest—stopping “calling it”—would shed light on it. After all, God did say, “Let there be light.”
What’s this “let” business? Who is un-letting the light? From what does the light come in the first place, if not the same unlit source? If it must be given permission, who or what un-permits it?
As if God gave permission to the Light: Let there be light. “Give it a rest.”
A rest from what? Who’s tired? I am. All this explaining is making me exhausted. Might as well go and make me a better world. This one’s had it.