Show Don't Tell: Genesis 1:1-5

Instead of saying "God created light," plunge your congregation into the void. Feel the absolute darkness—not the darkness of a room with the lights off, but the darkness before darkness had a name. No up, no down, no edges. Just formless, churning deep. Then let them hear it: a voice that doesn't echo because there's nothing to echo off of. "Let there be light." And suddenly—not gradually, not like a sunrise—light exists. Everywhere. Light that has never touched anything because there is nothing yet to touch. Watch God examine this newborn light the way a potter turns fresh clay in weathered hands. He calls it good. Then he does something strange: he separates it from the darkness, names them both, and sets the rhythm that will govern every human life to come. Evening. Morning. The first day.