A Fall and a Separation

"If God is good and all-powerful, why is there evil?" is a question we hear frequently from people who struggle with, or reject, faith in God. Often referred to as "the problem of evil," this question makes sense coming from an unbeliever who thinks humankind is evolving in a positive direction, basically good, deserving to inhabit an "I'm okay; you're okay" world. But even some believers, or former believers, struggle to explain why evil exists, and I have to admit I don't really get their puzzlement.

It's because of the fall of man (and before that, the fall of Satan). That's why.

God wanted a real relationship with the human beings He created in His image. Therefore, He made them free to choose or reject Him. Therefore, He created a tree in the garden whose fruit, if eaten, would expand their awareness to "good and evil" instead of "good only." He made it clear that He wanted them to choose Him ("Don't eat of that tree"). But the tree had to be there; if it was not, Adam and Eve would be with Him only because they had no chance at anything else. Our Father didn't want prisoners, even prisoners of paradise. By saying a continual No to the tree, Adam and Eve could have made the decision to choose God every day. It's not unlike marriage; not at all. There are reasons, temptations, opportunities, and just plain dumb delusions that can make one leave a spouse, but unless there are dire circumstances we say No and choose our mate. We choose relationship. 

When we consider the fall, we usually think about our separation from God, the sentences pronounced on Adam and Eve, the fig leaf aprons, the scratching of crops from a hard, dry, thistle-ridden land. The punishments, in other words. But have we really dug deeply into everything that the fall meant--and means? It's not just a fall; it's separation of many kinds.

I recall being taught in high school English classes that literary plots centered on one of three main conflicts: man against man, man against nature, and man against himself. Why man against himself? Separated from God, we no longer have the direct communication with Him that Adam and Eve enjoyed in the garden. We miss that because we were created for it. We can't expect the unbeliever to be much impressed by this idea, though the loss of a great part of our human purpose has an effect on us whether we recognize it for what it is or not. Easier to grasp are the personal problems we encounter: lack of direction, mental issues, low self-esteem, feelings of insignificance, inability to break bad habits, wondering if anything even matters. This is man against himself: separation from what we want to do and be, separation from meaning and purpose. And then at death, the biggie: the soul separates from the body. This was never supposed to be. This was never God's plan. But it has to happen if we are ever to be redeemed from the fallen state. 

Man against man happens at a sociological level. It starts immediately in the garden when Adam and Eve blame each other rather than take responsibility. It spreads to Cain and Abel, to Jew and Gentile, to the church and the world--huge divides between individuals and people groups that don't even take into account differences in ethnicity, languages (the tower of Babel, another sin, brought yet more separation), politics, or economics, none of which would plague us if we hadn't lost the garden. We kill and covet, as James says, because we fell, and for this reason we experience lack, and we try in vain to fix it by going after the other guy and the things he has.   

Too, we have man against nature. Climate extremes, weather patterns, unforgiving ocean currents, treacherous terrain, all manner of poisonous plants, wild animals, deadly organisms. We can no longer subdue and husband the rest of creation the way we were meant to, in the garden. 

It's not just the fall, it's that there are so many separations as a result of it that we and our world are splintered apart compared to what we were meant to be. And the more splinters there are, the more differences we see, and the more reasons for anger, suspicion, self-protection, mistrust, and other-ness. 

Unbelievers struggle with the existence of evil because they don't think humans are fallen (though they may also think we haven't much significance in the grand scheme of things). Believers know we are fallen (but still significant, being made in God's image), and the world is fallen too. 

Why is there evil? We did that. 

What's God doing about it? Jesus Christ.

Escape vs. Life

 

There's a joke in Christian circles that some people only want Jesus for "fire insurance." These folks' position could be summarized as, "I just wanna not go to hell. Going to heaven is the main thing, right?"

And I do think it's the main thing. Miss heaven, and not only will nothing else matter, but nothing you accomplished in life will ever have mattered. Think about that one for a moment.* <Shudder>

1 Corinthians 3 explains how "fire insurance" works. If anyone builds on the foundation that is Jesus Christ (so these are Christians who are being discussed), but their works are found to be of "wood, hay, or stubble" (temporal, hasty or sloppy, scanty, of poor quality, self-serving), the works will burn up, but the saved person will escape, barely, through the fire (3:15). If the person has built with gold, silver, or precious stones (investing in people, getting to know God, seeking God's will and doing it, obeying His precepts), such works will survive the test--which, interestingly, is portrayed as being conducted by fire--and result in a reward (3:14). Again, I am sure arriving in heaven even with one's clothes burned off is infinitely better than not getting there. But is "fire insurance" the gospel that Jesus intended or that Paul preached? I don't think so.

We are invited to much more, and the early Jewish Christians realized this. For them, life was holistic in a way that modern Westerners don't quite grasp. We compartmentalize, not least in our insistence on the separation of church and state (which idea has grown way beyond the original intent of declining to establish a specific state-sanctioned denomination). Think about the picture of early Judaism that the Bible holds up to us: the temple, the sacrifices, the laws, the feasts, the psalms, the prayers, the prophets. The exodus. This was not their religion. It was their relationship with God and His with them. It was their way of life. It was their life. 

In Jesus Christ, we are invited into the life of the Godhead. We are branches in the vine, fishers of men, a royal priesthood. If we hear His voice as He knocks on our door, we can dine with Him and He with us. We can take His yoke and find rest for our souls. We become part of His body, which is called "the church," but which is not an institution made of bricks and marble, pews and a pulpit, but is instead God's blood-bought family. Made in God's image, we are invited to share with Him and each other the love that flows between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, for eternity, because it pleased Him to create us to share it with Him. This is our life. 

We modern Westerners like "fire insurance" because it allows us the "doing our own thing" we insist on (idolize, honestly) while still comforting us that we have eternity covered. I hope too many of us aren't wrong about that; after all, Jesus will say "I never knew you" to some of the people who call him "Lord, Lord." I hope any heavenly regrets are mild; I can't help but think they will be, when the face of Jesus and throne of God make us bow down in worship and forget all else. But will there be regrets about little treasure stored up, scant rewards, "what I coulda woulda shoulda done on earth"? Perhaps. Perhaps so.  

I don't want just fire insurance. I want life. I have eternal life now (1 John 5:11), and I want to live it now, in as much union with the Godhead as I can. I'm nobody special, but I thank God that He's placed this desire in me for life with Him. 

*I can think of one exception: If you're a lost soul who raised a saved child, that matters. But it won't comfort you in the end.

Losing Our Lives to Save Them: Mary

 

One clarification to begin with: I am not Catholic, and those of us who aren't don't venerate Mary in the way Catholics do. That doesn't subtract from the fact that to the coming of the Messiah, Mary was absolutely crucial. 

I wrote some weeks ago here about how Esther laid her life down to save it. But the other day it struck me all over again, and deeper, how Mary did the same.

Mary was a young Jewish woman, I don't know how old, but both young enough and old enough that she was betrothed to Joseph while still being in the preparation period before the actual wedding. As such, Mary was a virgin, because even though the betrothal was legally binding for her and Joseph, unlike our engagements today, the true marriage would not exist until Joseph had taken her to the wedding chamber (which he would have been in the process of preparing for her) and they consummated the union. Sexual relations defined marriage in a very real way (unconsummated marriages are not considered real marriages by many even now, and can at times be annulled, nor does the Bible present them as a viable option), so to have indulged in relations beforehand, with one's betrothed or anyone else, would have "cut the covenant" before its time, made the parties "one flesh" with someone other than their spouse, ruined the celebration of the entire betrothal/preparation/wedding period, possibly created a "mini-marriage" with someone never intended (an explanation for why a man who seduced an unattached virgin had to pay the bride price and marry her, per Exodus 22:16-19 and Deuteronomy 22:28-29), and spoiled the woman's chances of ever marrying anyone else. In plain terms, sex prior to the time the groom arrived to claim his bride and sweep her off to the bridal chamber stood to knock their lives clean off the rails. Mary would have known all this.

And when Gabriel visited Mary and told her she would become pregnant by the Holy Spirit, she couldn't have failed to understand the ramifications. Some would believe Joseph had gotten her pregnant; others would believe she'd betrayed him with another man--certainly Joseph himself would believe that. She would face the anger, confusion, shame, and disappointment of her parents. She would lose not only Joseph, but any other possible suitor. Her good name. Her reputation. Her chance to have children. Possibly all economic support, for life. Not that these losses would necessarily matter, because she would be subject to stoning under Deuteronomy 22:23 unless the authorities happened to believe she'd been ravaged in an open field (22:25-27).  

Did Mary protest to Gabriel about any of this? She did not. She only asked him to explain how a virgin could become pregnant. Like Esther, Mary laid down her entire life as a Jewish woman when she replied, "Behold, I am the servant of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word" (Luke 1:38). Think for a moment how utterly she had to trust God for everything from that moment on. She could never have guessed that Joseph wasn't lost to her, that home wasn't lost to her, that she wouldn't be destitute with a child, that she wouldn't be killed and perhaps the child with her, that God would speak directly to her betrothed and tell him to proceed with the marriage. Only God!

What a kindness Gabriel did to Mary when he told her that Elizabeth, her relative, was currently six months along. Because with Elizabeth, who for different reasons was also miraculously pregnant, Mary could have refuge and, frankly, get herself together. How much Elizabeth's affirmation of her as the "mother of my Lord" (Luke 1:43) must have encouraged and strengthened her! So much so that she remained with Elizabeth for the rest of the latter's pregnancy and sang the beautiful hymn of praise to God that we now call The Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55). 

Mary lost her entire life for God and found it, just as Jesus would later teach. Not only through all of the foregoing, but when Simeon said to her in the temple, at the presentation of Jesus, "And a sword will pierce your own soul, too." 

Is there a mother who would not immediately have understood those words and frozen in horror? The account in Luke doesn't reveal Mary's outward reaction to this, if any, but the loss of Jesus was another price she paid. 

Many, many of us are not called to risk our lives, or our children's, literally, but because people like Esther and Mary were, and trusted God, and were delivered in marvelous ways, we can take courage that when we forsake a particular path in life in order to walk the one God calls us to, He will be there to meet us. And as for life, we will indeed find it.

Of Great Price

 

Lord, help me mine the gems,

dive for the pearls in Your word,

find one, yea more, of great value,

much wisdom above rubies,

the treasure buried in fields

of familiar stories

that others miss.

Though each jewel captivate

with sparkle and luster;

gleam and gloss;

nuggets, facets of meaning;

let its beauty, its richness,

yield to and lead to the light

of Your face. 

Seeing Clearly

 

When Jesus healed people, He never did it exactly the same way twice, which in itself we can be sure was intentional and instructional: "There's no formula for this. A formula is not the point." Mark 8, for example, portrays Him healing a blind man in a unique way, using two stages. I don't think anyone who follows Jesus would seriously believe He didn't get it right the first time. This method, for this man at this time, was also instructional and intentional. The challenge is to try to understand why Jesus used it in this instance. To dig below the surface, to try to uncover in each fresh reading of a passage more and more of the gems the Holy Spirit has left us in His word. To know Jesus better.

To see clearly.

Let's look at the context. Earlier in the chapter, Jesus fed the four thousand. Immediately after this, He and His disciples took the boat to another locale and Mark relates an incident where some Pharisees met Him and demanded a sign from heaven (to prove He was in fact from God). To be fair, they hadn't been in a position to witness the feeding of the four thousand--but we are. We see that a sign was given to the humble people who had come to hear Him speak, not to the self-righteous leaders who demanded it and would not have believed it because their hearts were not receptive. Once again, Jesus and the disciples got into the boat and set out for the other side of the lake, and they had only one loaf of bread with them. 

Jesus said, "Watch out! Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod" (Mark 8:15 AMP 2015). The disciples didn't know what to make of the word "leaven" except to relate it to bread, which they had forgotten to stock up on. Imagine them murmuring among themselves, "He's scolding us about the bread." At this point, Jesus asked them whether they still didn't understand. They, unlike the particular Pharisees who accosted Him, had seen Him feed the four thousand. The one loaf they had could have been multiplied to feed them for days! "Though you have eyes, do you not see?" He asked. "And though you have ears, do you not hear and listen?" He then reviewed the feeding of both the five thousand and four thousand, asking again, "Do you still not understand?"

Immediately after this, Jesus healed a blind man, spitting on his eyes and laying His hands on him. "Do you see anything?" Jesus asked. And the man said he saw people, but they looked like trees. I'm imagining him being very nearsighted at this point. He can see upright figures walking, but he can't distinguish arms, legs, and hair from branches and leaves. He can see, but he can't see clearly. He doesn't know what's really right in front of him. I don't think we know enough about the blind man to know if he personally needed this lesson, but the disciples did. When Jesus touched the man again, Mark says, "he began to see everything clearly." 

I hope "everything" means he saw Jesus clearly, too. In more ways than one. Jesus then sent him home, saying, "Do not even enter the village." It's as if Jesus said, "Carry this privately for a while. Know that you've seen what you've seen, before the unbelievers confront you and try to talk you out of it."

Right after this, Mark records Jesus asking the disciples, "Who do people say that I am?" The answers vary.

John the Baptist.

Elijah.

One of the other prophets. 

Then Peter gives the true answer. "You are the Christ."

Partial answers, almost answers, "trees walking around," even misunderstandings about bread, finally yield to seeing clearly.

To knowing Jesus. And to knowing Him better.  

Shortcuts

 

When my childhood best friend and I were in elementary school, we had to walk back and forth by ourselves, every day. Ten blocks one way, no matter the weather. (I am a Boomer, which is probably explanation enough.) And yes, "uphill both ways" was involved, since the middle of the route formed a shallow bowl shape. What sloped down on one end had to slope up on the other. 

It didn't take us long to devise a shortcut. If we could get from my friend's house to the top of the bowl "as the crow flies," we reasoned, we should save time and energy, the shortest distance between two points being a straight line and all that. So, instead of using the sidewalks, we trooped up and down the rolling hills across the hospital grounds, tripped and skidded our way through the small woods at their foot, and cheered our victory when we reached the top of the bowl: "Almost there!" By and by, we arrived at school...six times tardy that quarter, as our report cards would later reveal.

Our shortcut was a longcut.

Guess who wasn't allowed to walk to school with her friend for some time.  

Have you ever had seasons of life reminiscent of "forty years in the wilderness" and wondered what God was doing? I know I have. Did you start looking for the shortcut? I know I did. What we fail to realize--or don't want to face--is that God has preparation and character lessons for us along the way. People we need to meet, and who need to meet us. Situations He wants to place us in that need to be developed or arranged before we get there. It's even possible that our imagined shortcuts are longcuts, and when we get to the destination, if we get to the destination, we'll be all out of timing with what should have been there to meet us, and may not be the person we could and should have been when we got there. 

When we don't follow God's path, the destination itself is at risk.

Think of Moses, think of Joseph, languishing on the back side of a desert or forgotten in a prison. When we read their stories, we realize none of it was wasted, but they, living it, didn't have our perspective. We, living it, also lack full perspective. By faith, we want to run the race marked out for us (Hebrews 12:1 NIV), because it isn't just, or mainly, the destination that matters. It's the walk with Jesus. 

August Musings

 

It's not the kings who rule; it's the writers, particularly the storytellers. 

No one can so much as vouch for his own birthdate, and history is beholden to the honesty and fallibility of ancestors. 

When we get beyond the beyond the beyond, He is still beyond.

Why Philemon is in the Bible

 

Philemon is such a specific, personal letter. It's not a book of the Bible that often comes to mind; in fact it's arguably the most obscure NT book, ranking somewhere with a few of the minor OT prophets as far as memorability. But I was doing some reading that shed light on why this book may be very important indeed. 

Philemon is Paul's theology boiled down to a simple, graspable example. It's the theme of Paul's ministry in microcosm. 

Paul brought the gospel of forgiveness of sins and eternal life through Jesus Christ to the Gentiles, absolutely. But that good news would have had no staying power, and would not have spread, had he not been able to formulate a theology that would teach these new converts--think of it: back then EVERYONE was new!--how to live as these transformed beings. How to live like Jesus-people. (In so doing, Paul truly made disciples, not just converts.) Was one of his main messages "eschew sin"? Certainly. Was it "don't let desires of the flesh rule"? Of course. But, in regard to life advice, did Paul have a main main message? I think he did. I think it was: "In Christ, have unity across all categories that the culture says ought to divide you." 

Accepting Jew and Gentile Christ-followers together as "one man" in Christ was the biggie (and that's a lot of what Romans and Galatians are about). Paul called people together whether Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female (Galatians); it was the membership in Christ's body that erased the lines. He also called for unity in Christian practice regardless of valid diverging individual beliefs about fringe matters (Romans 14). He wrote of "one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of us all" to the Ephesians, whose church members were drawn from a cosmopolitan area of many nationalities, philosophies, economic groups, and political leanings. 

But where do we see this concept of cross-cultural unity in sharpest relief, in a mere two-page letter? In Philemon.

Philemon was a faithful, loving Christian who ministered regularly to his fellow saints, hosted a church in his home, and was a good friend of Paul. Philemon also owned a slave, Onesimus, who had run away and probably stolen from him, as was common for escaping slaves to do. Lo and behold, Onesimus became a Christian at some point afterward, met and began to serve under Paul, and now the two of them realized they had to do the right thing. As a believer, Onesimus needed to return to Philemon and face the music (which could have included imprisonment or death), and Paul needed to not partner with Onesimus behind Philemon's back. 

What is the thrust of Paul's masterfully written letter, which sandwiches his request between two passages of personal connection to Philemon, past, current, and future?  It's "Philemon, now grow your strong faith in a further way. Recognize that though Onesimus is still your slave and you his master, your brotherhood in Christ supersedes your natural relationship; you may be master and slave but in Christ these distinctions fall away and you are on the same level. Receive him accordingly." 

And that's why Philemon is in the Bible. Because the crux of Paul's theology is so clearly stated, and not just in a formal setting but in personal, everyday relationship. The ease of reading in this letter actually makes a fine entry point to the study of Paul's writings. 

In Christ, societal barriers come down, and the family of God becomes one. In Christ, all things hold together.  

Prayer for August

 

Dear Father, can it be August already--the month when the sun sets on summer? The last frolics through waves and late balmy nights before we buckle down to the business of September?

Lord, it seems You work in seasons. Not just literal planting, growth, harvest, and dormancy, by the calendar, but in seasons of life, too, whose lengths are more variable and entries and exits unpredictable. Whether we are opening, closing, or in the midst of a life season, help us fulfill Your purpose for it, learn from it, and grow closer to You in it. And as we finish out the calendar season of Summer 2026, help us to finish well, completing Your plans for us, making the most of every opportunity because the days are evil, even as we thank You for the beauty of each one as we realize the privilege of waking up each morning. Help us to savor the warmth, the breezes, the flowers, the waves, the clouds, the wistful echoes of long-ago childhoods, the bittersweetness of change. 

But no matter what we leave behind, Lord, there is always new, more, and better up ahead when we live in You. We are, as the curtain closes on another summer, closer to more closeness with You, whether here on this earth or in the eternity that rushes toward us faster than we know. At the same time, let us not draw the curtain closed too fast. We have another month and two-thirds of summer, by calendar time, and we ask You to help us to live them in the moment, learning all over again that now is what we have. Yesterday is over, and tomorrow is not promised. Help us see, really see, what's in front of our eyes, and hear, really hear, what we should not miss, especially Your voice. 

As we squeeze the last of summer out of August, help us do so with our eyes on You, knowing that when seasons--calendar ones or life ones--cannot go onward with us, we are always assured we can go onward with You. Thank you, Jesus. Amen.