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Good morning

I had never given Noah and his ark much thought before this spring.  His was a familiar story from my childhood, along with other Old Testament heroes: David the Giant killer, Joseph with his amazing multi coloured coat, and Noah – the funny little man who, in the face of the laughter and derision of his neighbours, built an ark, filled it with a pair of every conceivable animal, and went into lockdown with his family, to avoid the impending floods.

The language and content of Noah’s story, the ark, the animals and the destructive flood have entered popular culture.

Three months ago, we placed a small wooden ark, surrounded by pairs of knitted animals, Mr and Mrs Noah, and a single knitted dove, on display in the sanctuary of our church - not as some strange Anglican liturgical tradition, but rather as we faced our own destructive threat and went into our own lockdown, Noah’s story became less folklore and more real, less religion, and more relevant.

Now we  can empathise with a family and a huge menagerie of animals cooped up in a dark confined space with no possibility of a daily walk, fresh air, or contact with an ‘outside’ world…

Noah is our model of patient acceptance.   He understood that the ark was his place of safety, and that he would need to be certain before he left it to get back to his ‘new normal’ life.   And so he waited patiently until the time to emerge was right.   And finally, he faithfully embraced the message of the rainbow, our newly reimagined symbol of hope, of the promise that better days will always lie ahead.

God of storms and rainbows, break through the fear and anxiety of our darkness and transform them by the light of your love . Amen