Way back in a different era, one well before streaming and even before the ability to rent individual movies, you just had to wait for something to play, whether on TV or in the theater. I still remember throughout my boyhood waiting for the one time a year that The Wizard of Oz would come on TV. The night would arrive, snacks would be ready, we’d be glued to the set in our living room, and off we’d go on our annual journey to the Emerald City with Dorothy, Toto, and the gang!
If you've seen the movie, you might remember, along with me, the disorientation that Dorothy experienced in Munchkin Land, wondering just where she was and how to get home. “But how do I start for Emerald City?” Dorothy asks. Cue Glinda, the good witch of the North, “It’s always best to start at the beginning.” And off she sets down the somewhat circuitous yellow brick road on her way to meet the Wizard, the one she desperately hopes can aid her return home.
Start at the beginning.
That wise nugget, to start at the beginning, has stuck with me all these years.
Somehow, though, I have found that when it comes to scripture, I frequently fail to begin at the beginning.
Much of my experience and interpretation of it is framed first in Genesis 3, in which sin enters the world and disorientation for all of creation begins. By doing so, however, I completely rob the story of its ultimate meaning.
It’s like missing the first part of The Wizard of Oz and jumping into Munchkin Land as the starting point. I don’t even know why I am on the yellow brick road or the home I am ultimately trying to reach. The story, while interesting, lacks purpose and hope.
Turning back the pages of scripture, just two short chapters, makes all the difference. Here we find a good, all-powerful God doing what he alone can do: creating. The days unfold, and his speaking creates vibrant worlds splashed across the canvas. The animating presence of living beings invites movement and motion.
Male and female are now tasked with taking this world somewhere, nurturing and developing, coaxing from it various expressions of this good, all-powerful God. In the midst of the literary cadence of the Creation Story, one small repeated Hebrew word anchors the reader to a thread of the story-line and the substance of creation.
"Tov".... good.
At the end of each day, “God saw it and it was good.”
Tov invites us to consider the effect of God infusing His own moral goodness into creation itself.
More than just functionally helpful, tov invites us to consider the effect of God infusing His own moral goodness into creation itself. It is like when as a child, I would peer through the morning mist into the pond beside our country home and see my own reflection in the water.
God looks at creation and sees his reflection. He sees tov.
The Fall in Genesis 3 could not destroy tov, otherwise evil would be more powerful than God. You’ll find tov throughout the pages of the Old Testament, testifying to the durability of goodness.
Joseph recognized God intended his brothers’ evil for tov (Genesis 50:20). David declares, “surely tov and love will follow me all the days of my life” (Psalm 23:6). Solomon prays for the ability to discern between tov and evil (1 Kings 3:9).
I still remember the day I was on a regular walk through one of the slums of Mumbai, the place crowded with a mass of humanity bereft of financial resources, proper sanitation, and sturdy housing. Up to that day, my Genesis 3 eyes only saw the lack. But something happened on a completely average Tuesday as I walked through the slums with an Indian friend who lived there.
Vibrant colors of decor popped across the inadequate dwellings, people expressing beauty within the broken. The giggling of children playing along the small footpaths filled the air with joyful melody. Mothers huddled over small fire stoves preparing chapati in their tiny kitchens signaled the scent of provision as a promise of the night’s meal.
Where I had previously only seen death, there was life.
A wedding right in the middle of it all, loud and luxurious, served as an invitation for the community to honor and bless love’s commitment of two becoming one. This walk through the slum with my friend who lived there awakened me to the myriad of ways God was already present through tov. Where I had previously only seen death, there was life.
Where only bad was my starting frame, tov invited me into a more true story, one in which the God who created all things by his powerful hand continues to sustain all things through his goodness embedded into the fabric of all created things.
And so, the potency and persistence of tov, God’s infused goodness, invites me to start at the beginning, seeking to give witness to and join others in the fundamental task of coaxing from creation the infinite expressions of our good God made known uniquely through Christ.
As I do, tov reminds me that I am probably not the Dorothy in the story but more likely one of her affable traveling companions with deep and evident needs of my own, all of us seeking to journey together towards an ultimate home with tov acting as the guiding signposts along the road.
For more insights on the concept of tov as it relates to the local church, see "A Church Called Tov: Forming a Goodness Culture That Resists Abuses of Power and Promotes Healing".
Originally published by Scatter. Republished with permission.
Matt Benson is the Chief Operating Officer of Scatter. As former executive in higher education and a large non-profit, Matt's commitment to God's plan for the world has made him a trusted partner in the development of Scatter. His expansive view of the Kingdom of God and rich theological background bring depth and grounding to Scatter's team. Matt's ability to ask creative and challenging questions helps Scatter and those they serve to thrive.
Scatter is committed to showing up well in the world and helping others do the same. They exist to inspire fresh thinking around God’s original intent for living and being in the world. They believe every Jesus follower has a role to play in God’s plan for the world—in every city, country, and sector—acknowledging that too often and for too long current paradigms of ministry, mission, and even business, implicitly bias the West as superior in theology, knowledge, means, and expertise in solving intractable problems. Scatter practices and encourages the practice of decentering oneself as the hero in the story of God in the world.
