There is something peculiarly striking in the manner in which the Holy Ghost opens this sublime book. He introduces us, at once, to God, in the essential fulness of his being, and the solitariness of his acting. All prefatory matter is omitted. It is to God we are brought. We hear him, as it were, breaking earth's silence, and shining in upon earth's darkness, for the purpose of developing a sphere in which he might display his eternal power and Godhead.
There is nothing here on which idle curiosity may feed,--nothing on which the poor human mind may speculate. There is the sublimity and reality of DIVINE TRUTH, in its moral power to act on the heart, and on the understanding. It could never come within the range of the Spirit of God to gratify idle curiosity by the presentation of curious theories. Geologists may explore the bowels of the earth, and draw forth from thence materials from which to add to, and, in some instances, to contradict, the Divine record. They may speculate upon fossil remains; but the disciple hangs, with sacred delight, over the page of inspiration. He reads, believes, and worships. In this spirit may we pursue our study of the profound book which now lies open before us. May we know what it is to "inquire in the temple." May our investigations of the precious contents of holy scripture be ever prosecuted in the true spirit of worship.
"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth." The first sentence in the divine canon sets us in the presence of him who is the infinite source of all true blessedness. There is no elaborate argument in proof of the existence of God. The Holy Ghost could not enter upon any thing of the kind. God reveals himself. He makes himself known by his works. "The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament showeth his handy-work." "All thy works shall praise thee, O Lord." "Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty." None but an infidel or an atheist would seek an argument in proof of the Being of One who, by the word of his mouth, called worlds into existence, and declared himself the All-wise, the Almighty, and the everlasting God. Who but "God" could "create" any thing. "Lift up your eyes on high, and behold who hath _created_ these things, that bringeth out their host by number; he calleth them all by names, by the greatness of his might, for that he is strong in power; not one faileth." (Is. xl. 26.) "The gods of the heathen are idols, but the Lord made the heavens." In the Book of Job (chap. xxxviii.-xli.) we have an appeal of the very grandest description, on the part of Jehovah himself, to the work of creation, as an unanswerable argument in proof of his infinite superiority; and this appeal, while it sets before the understanding the most vivid and convincing demonstration of God's omnipotence, touches the heart, also, by its amazing condescension. The majesty and the love, the power and the tenderness, are all divine.
"And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep." Here was, in good truth, a scene in which God alone could act. Man, in the pride of his heart, has since proved himself but too ready to interfere with God in other and far higher spheres of action; but, in the scene before us, man had no place until, indeed, he became, like all the rest, the subject of creative power. God was alone in creation. He looked forth from his eternal dwelling-place of light upon the wild waste, and there beheld the sphere in which his wondrous plans and counsels were yet to be unfolded and brought out--where the Second Person of the Eternal Trinity was yet to live, and labor, and testify, and bleed, and die, in order to display, in the view of wondering worlds, the glorious perfections of the Godhead. All was darkness and chaos; but God is the God of light and order. "God is light, and in him is no darkness at all." Darkness and confusion cannot live in his presence, whether we look at it in a physical, moral, intellectual, or spiritual point of view.
"The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters." He sat brooding over the scene of his future operations. A dark scene, truly; and one in which there was ample room for the God of light and life to act. He alone could enlighten the darkness, cause life to spring up, substitute order for chaos, open an expanse between the waters, where life might display itself without fear of death. These were operations worthy of God.