Sunday, September 14, 2025 – Isaiah 40:12, Psalm 24:1-2, Genesis 1:1-25, Genesis 1:26-2:4
A timely little visitor showed up in my office on Wednesday to mark the beginning of our Season of Creation. I was sitting at my desk and suddenly I heard something moving behind me. I was afraid that a mouse or worse had gotten into my trash can, so I slowly moved to investigate.
Nothing was in the garbage can, but sitting in the corner was a small green frog. How it got into my office through the outside door, our inside entrance, and then my office door I’ll never quite figure out. But there it was, its big eyes looking up at me.
I don’t know how long it was in there, because I’d been away from the church since the end of August. And I doubt Pastor Wogen left it for me as a gift. It seemed a bit pale and tired, so I quickly relocated it outside. I learned later that it was a Cuban tree frog, which is considered an invasive species in Florida.
They’ve been here since the 1920s, probably coming initially as accidental stowaways on cargo ships. And now they disrupt our local ecosystem by voraciously eating native frogs and lizards. But it was hard for me to hate that little guy with big, adorable eyes.
For this Season of Creation we’ve got two currents of themes flowing together. At one level, we’ll be honoring different aspects of creation in each week. Today, we’re focused on the earth as a whole, and in coming weeks we’ll honor the land and plants, the sea and the sky, and our relationships with companion animals and other creatures.
Today, we also have as special guest with us, Jennifer Hoffman, the executive director of Keep Manatee Beautiful, a Bradenton-based organization that “brings together volunteers, businesses, and local governments to provide grassroots solutions to littering, illegal dumping, solid waste disposal, recycling, and beautification.” Jennifer will be in our fellowship hall after the service to tell us about her work.
I invited Jennifer because I want us in these weeks to think both about the glorious grandeur of creation as a whole, and also about our own little corner of creation right here. About our land, our plants, our Gulf waters, our skies, and the local wildlife and animal companions that we live with.
The Church-wide theme for Season of Creation this year is “Peace with Creation.” All we have to do is look around to see that we are not at peace with creation. And so we’ll also be tracking the story of our good creation, the place of humans in it, how we are contributing to creation’s sorrow and suffering, and how we might create peace with creation so that all of us may flourish together.
In this Sunday’s texts, we’re welcomed into a story older and grander than any one of us. The narrative of Genesis is not only about the origins of the universe, but about the continuing partnership between Creator and creation—a partnership in which you and I are invited to play a vital role.
We see that God’s movement of creation requires differentiation, of bringing diversity into a world that began as one. Oceans and land, stars and darkness, winged birds and creeping things—all these wonders emerge at God’s invitation. This divine calling is never forced, never imposed. God calls, God invites, and creation responds, unfolding its beauty, its possibility, its diversity.
What strikes me most is that in the biblical account, everything that comes forth—light and land, plants and animals—is not just created but profoundly blessed. God surveys the work of creation and calls it “good.” There is a deep sense of delight, a holy approval, that runs through every moment.
Humans: Created to Create, Called to Care
And then, in this flurry of generativity, humanity enters the story. We’re told that humans are created in God’s image—not to be superior, but to assume a special responsibility: to care for creation, and to continue the work of creativity. Humans are bearers of the divine likeness, and this likeness is found not just in our intellect or our physical form, but in our calling to tend, protect, and co-create.
The text says humans are created in “our” image, the plural hinting at a mystery. Could it be that God contains within God’s self both masculine and feminine, both “we” and “us”? This plurality suggests that all of us, in our diversity, reflect some part of God’s creative essence. Our different gifts, perspectives, and forms are not just tolerated— they are woven into the very fabric of the divine image.
So, as we look at the world—its variety, its splendor, its complexity—we’re also looking into the heart of God. The lakes and rivers, trees and mountains, each living creature—all are sacred echoes of the Creator’s imagination.
God’s Generosity: Provision, Work, and Rest
But God doesn’t simply create and walk away. God provides, ensuring that everything has what it needs to flourish. The abundance of the earth, the cycles of rain and sun, the interconnectedness of all life—these are acts of divine generosity.
After creating, God doesn’t just declare the work done; God calls it “very good” and then God puts up God’s feet and takes a rest. This rest, this sabbath, is not just a pause, but a declaration of holiness. It is a reminder that creation is not only about production, but about enjoyment, gratitude, and sacred pause.
How often do we forget that rest is part of creation’s design? In our busy lives, we rush from task to task, forgetting that God sanctified rest as essential—not only for ourselves, but for the earth itself. The soil needs time to recover, animals need seasons of migration and renewal, and we too need moments to simply be present in the goodness of creation.
Our Response: Living as Co-Creators
What does it mean, then, to live in the Season of Creation? It means stepping into our calling as co-creators, as caretakers, as people who reflect the image of God by nurturing what God has made. It means honoring the diversity of life, respecting the integrity of the earth, and listening for God’s continued invitation to create.
It also means embracing the rhythms of work and rest. We are invited to contribute, to plant and build, but also to set aside time for reflection, celebration, and renewal. Just as God did.
And it means, above all, living with gratitude. Everything that has emerged—every tree, every cloud, every person—is a blessing. When we see the world as blessed and “very good,” we become more willing to protect it, to advocate for its flourishing, to see our own lives as gifts.
A Personal Invitation
So, as you walk through this Season of Creation, I encourage you to notice the diversity around you: in nature, in your community, even within yourself. Celebrate what is distinct and beautiful. Remember that you are created in the image of God—not alone, not in isolation, but in relationship, in plurality, in community.
Let us accept God’s invitation to create, to care, to rest. Let us honor the sacredness of the world – even of those Cuban tree frogs – and our part in it.
