Mighty Where it Matters (Genesis 10:10)

Meditations on Genesis #25

Genesis 10:10

Therefore it is said, “Like Nimrod a mighty hunter before the LORD.”

Lists of genealogical records tend to bounce off my eyes like hailstones on a storm door, but this phrase from Genesis 10:10 arrested my attention and immediately thrust me into that unwritten volume of historical biography that lies just beneath the currents of divine narration.

What made Nimrod such a mighty hunter? What particularly awesome feat of strength won him such a superlative? Maybe some serpentine Leviathan stirred in the seas, wreaking havoc on merchant ships and fishing boats, ripping through port structures like a toddler through a bag of goldfish, till Nimrod sailed through the storm on his black ship, with lightning striking all around him, going where no one else dared to go, harpooning the serpent six times as the monster slapped furiously against the ship’s hull—the wood splintering and cracking but remaining compact—till, finally, at the seventh thrust, Nimrod felled the drake and brought its head back to port as a memoir.

Or maybe Nimrod started out as a lowly shepherd like David, and he was just a regular blue-collar guy, tending his sheep and fighting off the bears and wolves and coyotes that came his way, till, eventually, after so many successes against those pastureland predators, he found himself in bigger battles, against bigger predators, the kind that even the most seasoned warriors and soldiers steer clear of. And maybe, after so many successful missions, he became the expert you’d call on if man-eating lions invaded a town or velociraptors overtook a habitat or a three-ton Polar Bear went rabid and became a menace to society.

Whatever the case, the fact that Nimrod was a mighty hunter before God is the most significant thing, isn’t it? The LORD’s approval is by far the most priceless sort of commendation, because His perfection of character isn’t given over to flattery or deception or baseless attribution. In fact, even if nobody else would’ve called Nimrod mighty, even if no one else saw or appreciated his exploits, or perhaps they did see them but the deeds were too insignificant to be called memorable, and even if Nimrod’s nickname in society was something like Nimrod the Dull or Nimrod the Talentless or Nimrod the Normal, if the LORD of heaven and earth calls him Nimrod the Mighty, what does it matter what anyone else thinks?

Oh, to think that Almighty God could be looking down from His exalted, transcendent stewardship of the cosmos even now, reading poor sentences like these, and think something of them. And to think that He could catch us in the act of folding a batch of laundry or putting away dishes or reading a book with our kids or driving home in bumper-to-bumper traffic or quietly praying on a fold-up lawn chair at a nearby park and call us heroic in such mundane affairs. And to think that we don’t have to take down a Goliath with a slingstone or a Leviathan with a harpoon to be considered mighty where it matters most; rather, we just need to trust Him with all our heart, not leaning on our own understanding, but acknowledging and seeking Him in all our ways and for all our steps.

Friend, may we earnestly desire to come to the end of our day today and hear Christ whisper over the sum of our affections and deeds, “Well done, My good and faithful servant!” There’s no mightier achievement in all the world.