God Sees

Scripture: Genesis 6:1–9

When the world becomes filled with people...

what does God see?

In this episode of Behold: A Guided Journey Through Scripture, we journey through Genesis 6:1–9 and witness a world that appears to be flourishing on the surface, yet is quietly unraveling from within. As humanity multiplies, hearts turn further from their Creator. Strength is admired. Power is celebrated. Selfishness becomes ordinary.

Yet God sees what no one else can.

He sees beyond appearances... into the thoughts, motives, and desires of every heart. And in one of the most intimate moments in all of Scripture, we behold a God who grieves over the ruin sin has brought to His creation.

But grief is not the end of the story.

In the midst of a world filled with corruption, one quiet sentence changes everything:

"But Noah found favor in the eyes of the LORD."

Whether you've read this passage many times or are hearing it with fresh ears, you'll discover that even in humanity's darkest moments, God's character remains unchanged. He still sees. He still grieves. He still shows grace.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:10

The paths that once carried only a few footsteps had become well worn. New homes stood where open fields had once stretched beneath the sun. Morning fires sent thin columns of smoke into the sky as families welcomed another day. The sounds of craftsmen busy at work, the bleeding of sheep and the laughter of children rose together across the valleys. Every season brought new life. A mother cradled her newborn son, another celebrated the birth of a daughter. Children chased one another between olive trees while older brothers and sisters learned the work of their fathers and mothers. The little ones who had once reached for a parent's hand now walked beside them. Some carried baskets, some watched flocks, and some learned the careful work of shaping wood and stone, while others simply watched, taking in the world around them one ordinary day at a time. Now it came about when men began to multiply on the face of the land, and daughters were born to them. Those words carry us across centuries. This is not speaking of a single lifetime or one generation. These words draw our attention to life expanding well beyond the garden. Children were born, they grew into men and women. Families became clans, clans became communities, communities became cities, and civilizations were established. The earth that had once only known a single family was now filled with people. The blessing God had spoken in the beginning was still unfolding. Be fruitful and multiply. And humanity did. This was the world into which the next words were spoken. The sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful. Beauty had always been part of God's good creation. The one who filled the earth with living creatures, who caused every tree and every green plant to spring from the ground, and who formed man from the dust, fashioning woman as his perfect companion, had made them beautiful. There is nothing unexpected about that. Then the story quietly turns. And they took for themselves whomever they chose. One word changes everything. Took. No longer was the question what has God given? Now it became what do I want? What God had created to be received with gratitude had become something to possess. Desire had become entitlement, and entitlement had become taking. Before we move on, let's briefly address the designation the sons of God. Faithful students of Scripture have reached different conclusions throughout the centuries. Some understand the phrase one way, others understand it another way. The story itself does not stop to explain it, but what we do know is that God's Word makes it unmistakably clear what they did. They saw, they desired, and they took. The pattern is not new. It actually reaches back to a single event when a woman looked upon a tree, desired what God had withheld, and took it. Now, here it is again, not with a tree, but with people. The object has changed, the heart has not. What began in Eden had spread across the earth. People became objects of desire and ceased to be treated as those who bore the image of God. They became something to acquire, something to use, something to possess. And little by little, relationships gave way to ambition. The strong learned to take, the weak learned to yield, and worth was no longer measured by the God in whose image they had been made, but by what they could offer strength, influence, prestige. It is here that God's word briefly introduces another part of this world. The Nephilim. The Nephilim were on the earth in those days and also afterward. These were the mighty men who were of old, men of renown. Scripture offers no explanation. It simply tells us they were there. The world admired them. They had strength and power and reputation. It was the kind of greatness people learned to value. And little by little those values found their way into the ordinary moments of life. At the city gate, a wealthy man approached. The laborer waiting beside the road quietly stepped aside, lowered his eyes, and let him pass. No greeting was offered, none was expected. In the marketplace, a merchant slowly poured grain into a balance. For just a moment his thumb rested lightly against the scale. The measure seemed fair. The customer reached for his coins, thanked the merchant, and continued on his way. At home, a weary father crossed the threshold. His young son hurried to meet him. His eyes were bright, his words came quickly. He had waited all day to tell his father something. The father nodded, but his thoughts were somewhere else. The moment quietly passed. Outside, neighbors stopped to talk, they smiled, they exchanged greetings, their voices were warm, until another name entered the conversation. The tone changed. Words became quieter and sharper. The person being spoken about never heard them. Children noticed. They always did. They learned whose opinions carried weight and whom people hurried to welcome, whom they quietly overlooked, and little by little they learned to see the world the exact same way. Day after day, life continued. No one stopped to wonder whether anything had been lost. This was simply the world they all knew. Then the Lord speaks. Not by the voice of man, but by the voice of God. What follows is not merely an announcement of what he will do, it is a glimpse into who he is. My spirit shall not strive with man forever. For generations, God had not abandoned the people he had made. While humanity filled the earth, his presence had not departed from it. He had continued to bear with them, to call them, to patiently endure the rebellion of those who still bore his image. Then the Lord continues, because he also is flesh, nevertheless, his days shall be 120 years. Even now, God's words are measured. He does not answer centuries of rebellion with immediate judgment. Try to imagine that. A child playing in the dust that day could live to see children and his grandchildren become parents themselves. Entire seasons of life would still unfold. Seeds would still be sown, harvests would still be gathered, children would still be welcomed into the world. The ordinary rhythms of life would continue. Because even now, God was revealing the kind of God he had always been. Holy, patient, slow to bring judgment. Not because he overlooked sin, but because his desire was not to abandon the people he had made. Then the Lord saw. The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great on the earth, and that every intent of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. What a sobering revelation. For all the attention humanity had given to what could be seen, God looks somewhere else. Not first to the crowded streets, not to the fields that filled with labor, not to the marketplaces, not even to the violence that had spread across the earth. He looked into the human heart. The place no one else could see, the place from which every word, every choice, every desire would eventually come. Nothing was hidden from him. A smile could conceal a resentment. A promise could disguise self-ambition. A respectful greeting could hide a heart consumed with envy. Others saw appearances. God saw reality. He saw every motive, every hidden desire, every thought that never found its way to spoken words. The Creator who formed the human heart knew it completely. And what he saw grieved him. The Lord was sorry that he had made man on the earth, and he was grieved in his heart. For a moment, everything else falls silent. The voices and activities that have filled the story so far fade into the distance. Our eyes are no longer fixed upon the world, but upon God Himself. These words are unlike anything we have heard so far. Before the Lord tells us what he will do, he tells us what he feels. He does not veil his sorrow. He allows us to witness it. This is not the grief of one who has been defeated, nor the regret of one whose purpose has failed. It is the sorrow of the God who loved his creation and now beholds the ruin sin has brought. The one who once looked upon all that he had made and called it very good now looks upon humanity and he mourns. Love has not grown cold. Holiness has not weakened. The God who has patiently borne with generation after generation now lets us see what that patience has cost. Two hearts are revealed. One delights in itself, the other still loves the people he has made. One reaches only for its own desires, the other continues to reveal himself even in sorrow. Before the story speaks of judgment, it invites us to behold the God who grieves. And then the story turns, not because humanity has changed, but because God has not. But Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord. After everything we have seen, those words almost take our breath away. Favor. The God who had looked upon a world filled with corruption still looked with kindness. The God who had revealed his grief had not ceased to extend his goodness. Darkness had spread across the earth, but it had not overcome the character of God. He was still the God who drew near, still the God who sought, and still the God in whom hope could be found. And because he had not changed, the story was not over. These are the records of the generations of Noah. Noah was a righteous man, blameless in his generation. Noah walked with God. God has already revealed how he looked upon Noah. Now he reveals the man upon whom his eyes had graciously rested. Three descriptions are given: righteous, blameless in his generation, and Noah walked with God. This is how God introduces Noah to us. Before we learn what Noah will do, we are invited to know the man. Not to explain why God looked upon him with favor, but to understand the life that quietly stood apart from the world around him. He was righteous. In a world where people had learned to measure life by strength, influence, beauty, or prestige, Noah's life was marked by what was right in the sight of God. Then we read, blameless in his generation. By now we know that generation. We have walked its streets, we have stood at its city gates, we have listened in its marketplaces, and we have entered its homes and seen what it celebrated and what it overlooked. It is against that backdrop Noah's life quietly stood apart, not because he was without sin, but because he refused to let the spirit of his age shape the direction of his life. And then Scripture takes us deeper still. Noah walked with God. Those words are not new. Earlier, another man was described in the very same way. Enoch. In a genealogy where every life seemed to end in the same solemn refrain and he died, Enoch's account was different. He walked with God, and God took him. Now, generations later, those same words are spoken again. Noah walked with God. Different men, different generations, different callings, yet the same relationship. This is how Noah is remembered. Not first for what he accomplished, but for the relationship that shaped his life. Perhaps that has been God's desire from the very beginning. Not merely that people would know about him, not merely that they would acknowledge that he exists, but that they would know him and order their lives around him. In a world that celebrated the mighty and admired the renowned, there was still one man whose life was directed toward the Lord. And that is the name Scripture remembers. Not because the world celebrated him, but because Noah walked with God.