Under the Rainbow

Scripture Reading: Genesis 9:8-17

Sometimes you just need a do-over. For whatever reason the thing you’re working on isn’t turning out as you had hoped. Maybe it’s the recipe you’re following, the DIY furniture you’re assembling, or the sermon you’re writing. It hasn’t happened often, but there have been a one or two times when I had written several pages of a sermon, only to realize much to my distress, “This isn’t working.” And rather than taking the time to try to salvage what I had written, I scrapped every word and started over. (For the record, that did not happen with this sermon.)

In golf this concept of a do-over is called a mulligan. In a casual round of golf among friends, when someone hits a particularly poor shot, one’s companions—if they are feeling gracious—may grant a mulligan. A mulligan is basically a do-over that doesn’t count on the scorecard. You’re allowed to take a second shot, and this time hit the fairway rather than the parking lot.

In talking with some friends recently, I referenced the story of Noah and the flood, and one of them said, “Yeah, that’s right. God takes a mulligan.” I chuckled because this friend, who is not at all religious, knew enough of the Bible to know that the story of Noah and the flood is God’s second attempt at creation. The first attempt was undone by the sheer wickedness of humanity.


Right from the start, it seems, we’ve been trouble, not only for God but for ourselves. Adam and Eve do the one thing they are told not to do. God had provided for them everything they could possibly need, but still it was not enough. The Apostle Paul is right when he notes that the command of the law creates the desire to do the very thing that the law forbids. If we’re told that we can have anything except that, well then that is precisely what we must have.

From there things only go downhill. Of Adam and Eve’s first two children, the older son Cain murders his brother Abel in a jealous rage. And that’s just the prologue to a longer tale of death and destruction that is the consequence of human sinfulness. By the beginning of Genesis chapter 6 God laments the whole project of creation. “The Lord saw that the wickedness of humans was great in the earth and that every inclination of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually. And the Lord was sorry that he had made humans on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart” (Gen. 6:5-6).

That’s a powerful verse. God was grieved in his heart by the suffering that human beings inflicted upon each other. Something had to be done to rectify the situation. The slate must be wiped clean. God must start over.


You’re no doubt familiar with the story. Noah builds an ark, gathers a male and female of every species of animal, saves a few seats for his family, and then it begins to rain. And it doesn’t stop raining for 40 days. The entire world—every man, woman, and child, and every animal that breathes air, except for those tucked within the walls of Noah’s ark—is drowned in the merciless flood.

It’s a wonder that we tell this story to children! Children’s Bibles feature colorful illustrations of smiling pairs of lions, elephants, and giraffes looking like they’re boarding a cruise ship bound for the Mediterranean. But this is no children’s tale. It’s a story about the deadly consequences of sin. Sin destroys. Sin wounds. Sin kills.

What this story is about is God’s undoing of creation. Through the waters of the flood, God returns the earth to the state it was in before creation, when the earth was “a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep” (Gen. 1:2). This is a return to the watery chaos that preceded creation.

From this second chaos God fashions a new creation. Eventually, the rain stops, the water recedes, and dry land emerges. Noah and his family and all the animals within exit the ark. God commands them to be fruitful and multiply, to repopulate the earth. It’s a fresh start for humanity and for God.


The Flood story takes up three whole chapters of Genesis. With today’s reading we’re jumping in at the end. Hence, the reason for all the background. Also, I want us to have a sense of the risk that God is taking by continuing to try to be in relationship with human beings who thus far have mostly grieved God’s heart. The risk I’m talking about can be found in the covenant that God now makes with Noah.

A covenant is simply an agreement between two parties. In a covenant, each party agrees to fulfill certain responsibilities. For example, later on in Genesis God makes a covenant with Abraham, promising him land and ancestors, and for his part Abraham promises that he and every male in his house will become circumcised. In Exodus, God makes a covenant with Moses and the people of Israel, promising to be their God provided that they follow his commandments.

But the covenant here in Genesis 9 is different in several respects. To begin with, God establishes this covenant not with an individual or with the nation of Israel but with all of humanity, and not just all of humanity but all of creation! “I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants after you, and with every living creature that is with you…as many as came out of the ark” (Gen. 9:9-10). Birds, domestic animals, and every animal of the earth are included: sheep, cattle, goats, caterpillars, platypuses, mosquitoes, you name it! They’re all signatories to the covenant!


This underscores the second unique aspect of this covenant: It’s unconditional. There are no conditions that humans or animals must meet to maintain the covenant. But is that so remarkable? I mean, realistically, what condition could God expect of an animal? Trust me, I’ve tried it with my cats, but they still keep climbing into the kitchen sink or rummaging through the garbage can.

So, no, an animal can’t abide by or break the terms of a covenant, yet in this covenant, God expects of human beings the same thing that God expects of animals…nothing!

So, no, an animal can’t abide by or break the terms of a covenant, yet in this covenant, God expects of human beings the same thing that God expects of animals…nothing! There is no expectation that humans will get their act together. No expectation that we’ll stop hurting each other and turning against God. In fact, God knows that nothing will change and yet still makes a commitment to be for us. “I establish my covenant with you,” God says, “that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood.”

Notice, it’s not “never again provided that you obey me” or”never again unless you are unfaithful.” It’s simply “never again.”

What is God thinking? If nothing has changed in the human heart even after the flood, isn’t God making a huge mistake? God is setting himself up for disappointment.


But that’s the thing, because human beings won’t change and can not change, God changes course. God changes the way that God responds to human sin. In lieu of justice, God chooses mercy. God lays down his weapon. God hangs up his bow, promising never again to direct the arrows of his wrath at human beings. “This is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for all future generations: I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth (Gen. 9:12-13).

Notably, God points the bow toward the heavens, away from the earth. If God’s bow is ever again to be drawn, the arrows will be directed toward God, not human beings.

In Hebrew, an archer’s bow and a rainbow are the same word. In the Hebrew imagination, the rainbow is God’s archer’s bow. God hangs it in the sky as a sign of the covenant between God and all flesh. That covenant extends to everything under the rainbow. Every man. Every woman. Every child. Every animal. Everything that has life.

Notably, God points the bow toward the heavens, away from the earth. If God’s bow is ever again to be drawn, the arrows will be directed toward God, not human beings. If the wrath of God is ever again felt on earth because of sin, then God is the one who will bear the brunt of it. That is the price that God pays for entering into this unconditional covenant with all of humanity.


This covenant is a forerunner of the new covenant that Jesus will initiate at the Last Supper. On the eve of his death, Jesus shares a final meal with his disciples. After sharing the bread, he holds up the cup of wine and says, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood” (Lk. 22:20).

Like the covenant with Noah, all of humanity is included in the new covenant. Furthermore, at the center of the new covenant is a structure made of wood. But rather than a wooden ark designed to save one man’s family, God, in his Son Jesus, will take upon himself, upon his own shoulders, a wooden cross and with it extend salvation to the entire human family.

And similar to the covenant with Noah, in the new covenant there is also a flood. But rather than flooding the earth with torrents of rain, God floods the world with an overflowing grace—with a fearsome grace that takes the life of God’s own Son, a life that he willingly gives for the sake of his beloved, for the sake of everyone under the rainbow.

John Schneider