Unaccustomed to the pitch and yaw of their newly acquired vessel, the enormous draft horse sidestepped in an effort to keep his footing. Birds squawked and fluttered their wings to keep steady on their perches. An unsecured basket of wheat slid across the floor. Three women raced to rescue it, nearly falling over one another as the vessel righted itself. They were immensely unprepared to live like this. Heaving and rolling. Surging and swaying. Tossed about by winds. Crashed upon by waves. Every moment lived to the tattooing rhythm of torrential rain. Gazing out over his family and the gathered animals, Noah smoothed his beard and let loose a heavy sigh. They were all still adjusting. The change was enormous. New spaces. New neighbors. Less privacy. More noise.
Had someone suggested to him as a young man that he’d be here, locked in a floating contraption with his family, tending an enormous menagerie and waiting out a devastating flood, Noah would likely have laughed. He’d never planned to live on a houseboat. Hadn’t even dreamed it was possible until God slipped blueprints into his hands. He’d never had lofty dreams of greatness, prestige, or fame. Never thought of himself as a missionary. Never imagined being a preacher. Never dreamed he’d be the guy God chose to rescue part of His creation from utter devastation. He had been content with his life. Family. Flocks. Fields. Pleased with the choice he’d made to follow God. Thankful his sons had chosen to follow suit. Blessed to be chosen as a survivor of the catastrophe to come.
It was a fact he’d have to remind himself of over and over again. As he watched the spectacular parade of animals file onboard, the birds fly in to nest in the rafters, his family assemble with the meager non-essential belongings they were able to take, Noah felt blessed to be a part of the grand plan of God. It was amazing. It was exciting. Anticipation for the upcoming adventure crackled down his spine. An unchecked smile crept across his face. Laugh lines crinkled at the edges of his eyes. A joyous chuckle bubbled from his lungs. It all seemed like such a fantastic escapade! Until God shut the door.
As the solemn thud of that sealing portal echoed through the ark, Noah’s laugh subsided. The smile faded. Things got real. The adventure had seemed grand, but the reality was rough. Animals are needy. They argue like children. They smell. Bad. They make noise. Constantly. Feathers ruffle. Hooves shuffle. There’s sneezing and snorting, snuffling and chewing. And Noah hadn’t built for acoustics. Every noise seemed to echo. Bounce off the walls. Ping from the rafters straight to his ears. There was no way to hush the multitude of beasts. Not a moment of silence could be borrowed or bought.
His family wasn’t much better. Man, he loved them! Wow, he sure wasn’t used to living in their space! He had no idea they had the capacity to be quite so annoying in continuous doses! A guy couldn’t find five seconds of peace and quiet. There was no peaceful deck on which to quietly relax and read a book. No plush easy chair stuffed in a calming corner where he could rest in solitude. There was literally nowhere he could go to gain respite from the noisy animals, his nattering family, the sound of pounding rain. Regardless how large their floating conveyance or the careful preparations they had made, Noah felt cramped. Hemmed in on every side. People in front of him. Animals surrounding him. Walls encasing him. A sealed door rescuing him. But where was the God who’d sent Him there?
For forty days the rain pounded and the waters rose. For one hundred and fifty days the earth flooded. The angel of death visited every living, moving, breathing thing on earth. Beasts. Birds. Humans. For months Noah plodded through the monotony of his new responsibilities. Feed the animals. Clean up after the animals. Eat. Sleep. Float. Surely, as the days grew long and tempers short, Noah wished there was someone else, anyone else, with whom to converse. Family conversations had long since grown tedious. Plans for life after exiting the ark seemed like such faraway dreams. Hope dwindled. Fear threatened. Faith faltered. And God seemed oddly silent. (Genesis 6:9-8:14)
After all the direction and guidance God gave Noah in building and gathering and preaching prior to the flood, it seems odd there is not one indication of God speaking to Noah while he was cooped up on the ark. As the rains pounded, the waters rose, the ark bobbed and swayed, God seemed to remain silent. When the water began to recede, the ark rested on Ararat, the mountains again became visible, God still appears aloof. As Noah counted out forty days, opened a window, sent out a raven, then a dove, Heavenly quiet remains. In fact, the next record we have of God speaking to Noah is more than a year after He swung the door of their safety ship shut. A year of confinement. A year of questions. A year of faith.
It is what we notice most about the account. Noah’s faith. In the face of obvious adversity, struggle, and frustration, Noah’s faith never fails. His obedience to God never wavers. Even when there was no one to impress with his devotion. Even though he already knew he’d be saved from the flood. Even when things were difficult, the family was arguing, the animals were inordinately restless. Not once did Noah, frustrated with God’s silence and their confinement, grab an ax and begin to hack an escape route in the hull of their ship. Not when he knew the waters had greatly subsided. Not when the raven left home. Not when the dove brought back the olive leaf. Not even when he saw the surface of the earth was completely dry. No. Noah stayed obedient and faithful until God spoke again, even though the only people who would see his disobedience were the people behind closed doors.
Noah was the same man behind closed doors as he was when he was building the ark and warning others of the oncoming destruction. He didn’t change when no one was looking. Didn’t treat his sons differently. Didn’t rage at his wife. Didn’t ogle his daughters-in-law. Noah remained faithful to God and what he believed God required of him. In public and in private. We’d have heard about it if he had. It would be recorded for our edification. Many times in the Old Testament, the closed-door offenses are highlighted. Lot’s daughters took advantage of him behind closed doors. Amnon abused Tamar in privacy. Potiphar’s wife tried to seduce Joseph when no one else was about. David used his position to pressure Bathsheba to visit his bed. The list could go on. They are all there. The unimaginable things done behind closed doors are all eventually brought to light. Yet in all the days spent in frustratingly close quarters with temptation to speak, think and act ungodly, not one allegation is laid to Noah’s charge. Why? Because Noah remained consistently faithful to God. (II Samuel 13:1-16; Genesis 19:30-38; Genesis 39:1-20; II Samuel 11:1-12:9)
Nothing about Noah was different in the privacy of the ark than it had been publicly in town. His faith wasn’t a front to gain respect and prestige. Noah was the same man, day in and day out. His family could count on it. His actions didn’t change. His attitude didn’t nosedive. His tone didn’t sharpen. Noah remained unchanged because the God he faithfully served was unchanged. No matter how stressed, frustrated, anxious, or annoyed he felt, Noah’s family knew exactly what to expect from him. Steady faithfulness. In front of a watching, impressionable world or behind closed doors with only an audience of animals, Noah didn’t change. Didn’t abandon his beliefs. Didn’t mismatch his words and actions. Noah followed God. Faithfully.
We should all live so carefully. So authentically. So honestly. We should all be so rooted in faithfulness to God that our life never changes. Our families should know that the response the neighbor publicly gets from us will be the same response they privately receive. Our children should be able to trust us to privately practice what we publicly preach. Our friends should know we will lean honest even when it is unpleasant, uncomfortable, or upsetting. Our faith in action should be as unchanging as our God–in the middle of a group or behind closed doors. (I Corinthians 15:58; Proverbs 21:21; Galatians 6:9; Ephesians 4:25; I Timothy 4:12)
So is it? Is your faith, your religion, your alleged value system the same at home as it is at work, at church, at coffee with friends? Are the pretty words you staunchly claim in public a mirror of your actions in private? Are you a blessing at Bible study but a beast at home? Are you truly living the life or are you faking it for the sake of your reputation? Are you the same faithful servant of God both in the middle of town and behind closed doors? Is your relationship with Jesus authentic enough to withstand the temptation to change depending on your surroundings? Do you live for Jesus at home the same way you do in public? (James 1:22, 26; Titus 2:7; Luke 6:41; Proverbs 10:9; I John 3:18; Proverbs 6:16-20; Proverbs 11:3; II Timothy 4:1-2)
I hope you do. I hope I do. In fact, I pray it over us. May we model our lives after Jesus. His love. His mercy. His grace. In public. In private. No matter where we are or who is around. May our lives, our words, our actions continually resonate with the unchanging faithfulness of obedience to our unchanging God. (I John 2:6; Micah 6:8; John 13:15; Proverbs 21:3; Ecclesiastes 12:13)
Thank you Naomia. You make bible stories come to life.