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Enduring Mercy

by Feb 19, 2025Friar Reflection

If you’ve been following the posts about the daily readings from Genesis we have covered the creation story, the rebellion in the Garden of Eden, Cain’s murder of Abel, and the first part of the story of the Great Flood. Along the way I have speculated about our ideas of original sin, rebellion from the authority of God, the biblical account, and their interface with science – specifically with the idea of human evolution, something that Pope Pius XII allowed theologians to consider in his 1950 Papal Encyclical Humani Generis. In that encyclical while many things were discussed, there were two points germain to this ongoing reflection: (a) theologians must always hold to the revealed doctrine that God alone created the human soul and (b) theologians were obliged to offer insight on how evil/sin/rebellion entered the world.

In a previous post I offered: In a faith discussion that accepts evolution one has to wonder if natural selection would have conferred on our evolutionary ancestors tendencies for behaviors that favored passing on of their genes. Competition for resources and breeding opportunities would have led to behaviors that, for moral agents, would be sinful.  When they were first somehow made aware of God and God’s will for them, a call to trust and obey God would have been in tension with their instincts. It seems instincts won and the rebellion spreads.

How much? If you follow the narrative past the episode of Cain and Abel, there are hints as to the phenomenal spread of sin and evil, so much so that our reading for yesterday began: “When the LORD saw how great was man’s wickedness on earth, and how no desire that his heart conceived was ever anything but evil, he regretted that he had made man on the earth, and his heart was grieved.” (Gen 6:5-6)

As mentioned yesterday, God’s action can be understood as an expression of God’s deep, personal investment in His creation. His regret does not imply a mistake, but rather, it reveals His heart—a heart grieved by sin and brokenness. Just as a loving parent mourns a wayward child’s choices, God grieved over the corruption of humanity and yet God’s response was not purely destruction, but also redemption. Amid judgment, He provided a way forward through Noah, preserving the hope of restoration. This reminds us that God’s justice is always accompanied by His mercy. His sorrow over sin does not lead Him to abandon His creation, but to work toward its renewal.

The story of Noah and the Flood (Gen 8)  marks a pivotal moment in the biblical narrative— God’s renewed relationship with creation. At the heart of this chapter is God’s covenantal faithfulness, seen in His promise never again to destroy the earth by flood (Genesis 8:21-22). This moment foreshadows the nature of Old Testament covenants: they are divine commitments initiated by God, underscoring both His justice and mercy.

Old Testament covenants, such as those with Noah, Abraham, Moses, and David, reveal God’s desire to restore and guide humanity despite human failure. The covenant in Genesis 8 is unilateral—God makes a promise without requiring human conditions. I

n other words, it is an unmerited gift – what we call Grace. It is under this grace He establishes order and continuity in the natural world.

Great, the world was washed clean! The end of evil? Hardly. Alas, only one chapter later something untoward and sinful happens that causes Noah to curse his son Ham, the father of Canaan, ancestor of the Canaanite people who are later upheld as evil in the sight of God. Such is the nature of free will and the results of ongoing rebellion against God. And yet God remains faithful to Himself and to us.

Ultimately, this covenant sets the stage for later covenants that progressively reveal God’s redemptive plan, culminating in the New Covenant through Christ. It reminds us that God’s promises are steadfast, and His mercy endures even in the face of human sin.


Image credit: Landscape with Noah, Offering a Sacrifice of Gratitude | Joseph Anton Koch/ Gottlieb Schick, 1803  | Stadle Museum, Frankfurt | PD-US