Friday, January 13, 2006

God's Idea of A Good Creation

Today (actually Wednesday night), I started reading Craig Barnes book, “Searching for Home: Spirituality for Restless Souls.” Yes, I am already reading two other books, “The Story We Find Ourselves In” and “A Generous Orthodoxy,” both by a guy named, Brian McLaren, and both rather difficult reading. Even so, I made the mistake of opening Barnes’ book last night and, as he usually does, he captured my attention (actually, I think I have ADHD, especially in light of the fact that I attempt to read three books at once but no one has diagnosed it, so I’ll pretend to be focused) and he did so with this statement: It is striking that the creation narratives make a point of telling us that this forbidden fruit was in the midst of the garden and not off in some forgettable corner. This means we were created to live with an unavoidable reminder that home was never meant to be perfect, whole, or complete. That’s God’s idea of a good creation. What was missing from the good garden was meant to serve as our altar of prayer, where we could bend our knees and confess that we were mere creatures who were never meant to have it all, but were dependent on our Creator, who alone is whole and complete. That pristine, sacred communion was precisely what made the garden so good (page 13-14).
     Let’s think about this for a minute or two: God, purposely, placed the forbidden fruit right smack-kadab in the middle of the Good Garden, right where we would stumble over it every day, just exactly in the place where we would see it all day, every day—an unavoidable and perpetual reminder that we are dependent upon Him—a good thing, indeed! Yet, to the untrained eye, it appears that this “forbidden fruit” made this Good Garden anything but good—imperfect and incomplete. The mindset goes something like this: there is something more, something better, and God is keeping it from us, but we desperately want it! Now, hold on a minute and take a more careful look: this “forbidden fruit” is exactly what made this Good Garden perfect. You see, there is no perfection where there is no awareness of our dependence upon Him. Surely, Adam’s and Eve’s choice to pursue the route of the “knowledge of good and evil” evidences this.
     As you remember, this “forbidden” fruit was not an “apple of gold” that God was hiding from them (us), the eating of which would make us like God and, thereby, complete what is missing; instead, it was a system of rules that would generate a lifestyle of independence from God, a lifestyle that said, “We can not only know what is good, as well as what is evil, but we can also perfectly perform the good and altogether avoid the evil and, thereby, please You by our works”—legalism at its finest hour! Yes, most of us know, now, that God was not trying to hide some good thing from us by placing this forbidden fruit tree in the middle of this Good Garden; instead, He was giving us an opportunity to avoid the most tragic of mistakes—attempting to live life independently of Him. As things were, the greatest, most glorious gift of all—righteousness in Jesus, which is what our souls really long for, was ours by default, had we, merely, left this damnable tree alone and damnable it is!
     HOWEVER (and I really want you to see this) [since I wrote that parenthesis, I have had 5 interruptions, so I am about to forget it myself!), as long as the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil stood in the Good Garden, the garden was imperfect by God’s design, or so it seems; after all, He purposely placed it there. However, that piece of imperfection is the very thing that drives us to that which is perfect; namely, Jesus—the Tree of Life (the Other Tree)—which, by the way, paradoxically, tells us that the garden was, well, perfect, after all because it accomplished God’s purpose—the driving of His elect to a life of utter dependence upon Him, and this is a very good thing—a perfect thing!
     It is kinda’ funny how God places the very things we try so hard to hide from other Christians—things that cause them to stumble—right out in the middle of everywhere, so they will stumble, yet, not so as to fall headlong but into His embrace and security.
     Well, I thought I would tell you what He told me (or at least what I think He told me), so chew on it and please send me your comments!

                                   

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