GOD NEVER SAYS “OOPS”
As we continue our journey through Genesis, we now arrive at the story of Abraham—the story of my people. Yet before Abraham appears, Scripture first takes us through something else entirely. Before the call of Abraham, before the covenant, before the promises and the blessing, we are invited to watch the collapse of humanity itself.
We have already spent time with Noah. We have seen the violence and corruption that filled the earth before the Flood. Then comes the Flood itself: destruction, judgment, and finally salvation through one righteous family. For a brief moment, we might imagine that humanity has been given a new beginning, that perhaps now peace and harmony will finally emerge. After all, the old world is gone. Noah and his family step into a cleansed earth. Surely things will be different now.
But they are not.
Very quickly, even within Noah’s own family, we encounter shame, sin, and brokenness once again. Then comes the story of Babel, and by that point it becomes painfully clear that the Flood did not eradicate evil. Humanity is still rebelling. Humanity is still attempting to live independently of God. Humanity is still trying to exalt itself.
The Bible presents these early chapters of Genesis as a series of attempts by mankind to become its own master. Just as Adam once desired to become “like God,” so now humanity gathers together to build a tower reaching toward heaven itself. The people are united, ambitious, and determined to make a name for themselves. On the surface, it almost looks impressive. Yet from the biblical perspective, Babel becomes the ultimate symbol of human self-exaltation.
In Hebrew, the connection is even more striking. The name Babel is linked in Scripture to the root בלל (balal), meaning “to confuse,” “to mix,” or “to bring into disorder.” The people sought unity on their own terms. They attempted to reach heaven through their own efforts and to establish their own greatness. Yet instead of clarity, the result was confusion. Instead of unity, division followed. Instead of remaining together, the nations were scattered across the earth.
And this raises a very uncomfortable question.
Do we really think that God destroyed the world through the Flood, gave humanity a new beginning, and then discovered—to His surprise—that it did not work? Do we imagine God looking at Babel and saying, “Oops”?
Of course not.
God knows the end from the beginning. He was not surprised by humanity’s continued rebellion. He was not shocked by Babel. He did not look at the post-Flood world and suddenly realize that evil was still present in the human heart.
If God was not surprised, then why did He do it? Why the Flood? Why begin again with Noah if humanity would simply continue down the same path?
When we read the story of Adam and Eve, we understand that free will was part of God’s design from the beginning. God allowed humanity to choose, even knowing where that choice would lead. But the Flood is different. It is drastic. Total. And yet afterward, evil remains.
Perhaps, then, the purpose of the Flood was never to provide a quick fix for human nature. Perhaps Scripture is leading us toward another conclusion entirely.
The answer begins to emerge only after Babel, when God stops dealing primarily with humanity as a whole and instead calls one man, one family, one people. This is why Genesis 10, the great catalog of nations, is so important. It represents humanity in its universality—many peoples, many languages, many lands. Yet immediately after this universal vision, the biblical narrative narrows dramatically.
Now the focus shifts to one family.
To Abraham.
The Call Before the Call
As we enter Genesis 12, we encounter one of the most famous calls in all of Scripture: לֶךְ־לְךָ (lech lecha)—”Go forth.” These words have inspired generations of readers and have become almost synonymous with Abraham himself. Yet when we read the biblical text carefully, we discover something surprising. Abraham’s story may not begin where we usually think it does.
In Genesis 12:5 we read:
“וַיֵּצְאוּ לָלֶכֶת אַרְצָה כְּנַעַן… וַיָּבֹאוּ אַרְצָה כְּנָעַן”
“They went out to go to the land of Canaan… and they came to the land of Canaan.”
At first glance, this sounds like a simple travel note, almost an administrative detail inserted into the narrative. Yet this small phrase may contain one of the most important lessons in Abraham’s entire story. The emphasis is not merely on the fact that Abraham left. The emphasis is that he arrived.
This becomes much clearer when we compare Abraham’s journey with that of his father. A few verses earlier, we read almost the same words about Terah. Scripture tells us that he set out “to go to the land of Canaan.” The destination is exactly the same. The beginning of the journey is exactly the same. Yet the ending is entirely different. Instead of arriving in Canaan, Terah stopped in Haran and settled there.
Why did Terah start heading for Canaan in the first place? I personally believe that before God spoke to Abraham, He had spoken to his father; otherwise, why would Terah leave Ur and start going to Canaan? We know that Terah did not worship the one true God; In no way does this mean, however, that Terah had never heard about the true God, or that he had never heard from the true God. Perhaps the very first lech-lecha–go out–was actually spoken to Terah; perhaps it was Terah who was supposed to have become the father of nations. However, many are called, but few chosen.
We all long to hear His voice; we all desire to have a Divine encounter, but make no mistake: It’s not the Divine encounter that defines our destiny, but what we do after this encounter. It’s not what He says to us that defines us, it’s how we respond to what He says! It’s not enough to be called; one must remain faithful to this calling. It is likely that Terah had been called first, before his son; he probably responded to this call by heading for Canaan. However, he never got there. He stopped in Haran, because dwelling in Haran was much more comfortable and safe than living in tents in Canaan.
Thus, Terah never became what he could and should have become. In this sense, the short verse regarding Abraham: they departed to go to the land of Canaan… They came to the land of Canaan–is much more than merely a technical comment. The biblical description of Abraham’s great faith begins here, at Genesis 12:5; not only did he set out to do what he was called and commanded to do–so many start!–but he completed it.
If Terah was called by God–and I believe he was–he responded to God’s call by starting to do what he was called to do, but he never finished it. Abraham was called by God–we know he was–and he responded to God’s call, not only by starting, but actually completing and accomplishing everything he was called to do.
This is what faith is all about, and it’s no wonder that Abraham and his father ended up so differently; Abraham became the father of a people and of peoples, while the Scripture tells us virtually nothing about Terah, except the fact that he was a descendant of Shem and father of Abraham. This is a spiritual law we should all be aware of: We choose our destiny by the way we respond to God’s call.
Blessing Begins on Our Knees
As Genesis continues, another central theme emerges: blessing. God promises to bless Abraham and to make him a blessing to the nations. Yet this immediately raises a question. Why Abraham? Is there any secret to receiving God’s blessing? And if there is, could it perhaps be hidden in the Hebrew language itself?
The Hebrew word for blessing is ברכה (bracha). Traditionally, it is connected to the Hebrew word ברך (berech), meaning “knee.” This connection is invisible in translation, but it becomes immediately apparent in Hebrew. In a very real sense, blessing is connected to kneeling.
Of course, we understand that it is not merely the physical posture that matters. Scripture is concerned first and foremost with the posture of the heart. Yet the connection remains deeply meaningful, because throughout the Bible we repeatedly see the same pattern: humility precedes blessing.
Think about Joseph.
When we remember Joseph, we usually remember his triumph. We remember the ruler of Egypt, the interpreter of dreams, the savior of nations during famine. Yet before Joseph stood beside Pharaoh, he experienced years of humiliation. He was rejected by his brothers, sold into slavery, falsely accused by Potiphar’s wife, and forgotten in prison. For years there was no visible sign that God’s promises were moving toward fulfillment.
And yet they were.
Probably more than once during those painful years, Joseph found himself on his knees—literally or figuratively. Before God raised him up, he first learned dependence upon God.
Something similar can be seen in Abraham’s own story. We often read Genesis knowing how the story ends. We know that Abraham will become the father of nations. We know that God’s promises will be fulfilled. Yet Abraham himself did not know this. At the beginning of his journey, he was simply an aging man with an aging wife and no child.
In the ancient world, childlessness was not merely a personal sorrow. It was often viewed as a sign of shame, disappointment, or divine disfavor. Abraham knew very well what it meant to live with unfulfilled hopes. Long before he became the father of nations, he understood weakness, dependence, and waiting.
Perhaps this is part of the mystery of blessing.
Before a person can truly receive God’s blessing, he must first recognize that he is not self-sufficient. He must understand his need for God. He must acknowledge that the future ultimately rests not in his own hands but in God’s.
Perhaps this is why blessing begins on our knees.
And perhaps this brings us back to the question with which we began. God never says “Oops.” The Flood was not a failed experiment. Babel was not an unexpected setback. Terah’s unfinished journey did not derail God’s purposes. Abraham’s childlessness did not threaten God’s plan.
The story was always moving somewhere.
As Genesis turns its attention to Abraham, we begin to see that God’s answer to humanity’s failure was never simply judgment. It was calling. It was covenant. It was blessing. God is never surprised by human weakness. He works through it, often in ways that become visible only much later.
God never says “Oops.”
If you like the insights on this blog, you might enjoy my books, you can find them here: books. As always, I would be happy to provide more information (also, a teacher’s discount for new students) regarding our wonderful courses (juliab@eteachergroup.com)
