I Hate it When He’s Right

We’ve all been wrong. But recently, I was pretty sure I was right and she was wrong. But then, I had to admit, she was right. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. And I thank the Lord that I married someone so stinkin’ smart.

So it was with some surprise as I was thinking again about Genesis 3 and the dreadful Fall of mankind from holiness to sinfulness, and found that most of what the Serpent said to Eve was actually - can we say it? - right.

In Genesis 3, Eve recounts (with slight revision) what God had forbidden - “don’t eat of the tree in the middle of the garden, or you will die.” Satan replied to her, “You surely will not die!” Well, Adam and Eve ate from that tree, and, they didn’t die, immediately. We would have expected them to drop dead. But they didn’t, though they would. And that’s not to mention the huge problem of eternal death, which was part of this dreadful deal, which they would now experience in place of eternal life. But, in a sense, he was right. Partly right. Deceptively right. I hate that.

The Serpent also said to Eve, “your eyes will be opened,” as if to say, “you will see things in a whole new light.” Who wouldn’t want their eyes opened? Except sometimes when you see something, you can never un-see it. Maybe it ruins the mystery. Maybe it stains the experience. But he was right. Verse 7: “Then the eyes of both of them were opened.” I hate it that he was right.

The Serpent promised that they would “know good and evil,” that is, to have an experience of both. They had already experienced good. Wasn’t that “good” enough? He was right. They “knew” evil, and they were ashamed. How exactly does one wash away the greasy film of stain from one’s soul? But, once again, he was right, and you and I both hate that he was right, and we hate the shame that goes with it.

There is one other thing that the Serpent said: “You will be like God.” On this point, he is not right. Oh, he wanted to be right. He himself wanted to be like God, and tried to usurp that status. And now, he wants us to make the same mistake and suffer the same fate. And, sometimes, in my worst moments, I hate it that he is, wrong. Because sometimes, I want the world to revolve around me. The world revolves only around God. And that’s a good thing to love.

The Strategist and the Servant

Two women, free to go their own way, and yet bound by past relationships. There is a senior and a junior, a strategist and a servant. And they don’t need each other. Or do they?

I suspect that Naomi had something to do with the journey to Moab in the first place. The text doesn’t say so, but she is the strategist, and her husband could see the sense of her concern. “We’ve go to do something drastic to save our family.”

But the best strategists cannot control the future flow of history. How was she to know that her husband and then her two sons would die, leaving her alone with two left-over native daughters-in-law. She purposes to return, alone, but Ruth, the servant - no strategist, but all about relationship - says, “Where you go, I go.”

Ruth could never have moved to Bethlehem alone - no kin; wrong skin; no connection; no plan. Naomi could make no future. Her’s was used up. She was a planner, but without time left for a plan centered on herself to unfold. The events that would transpire needed both of them. Ruth would never have dreamed to go to Boaz’ field and climb under Boaz’ blanket.Naomi could never, on her own, gain the attention and affection of Boaz. It required the humble servant who was winsome and appreciative.

Naomi, the strategist, had thought they should go their separate ways. But she was wrong. They needed one another. And together, the strategist and the servant played their parts, swayed the courts, and won over a heart. They did this together, as different as they were. God puts together some pretty strange combinations.

We know that God needed neither one. Or did He? We know that God is self-sufficient, and that He is complete apart from His creation. But given that He has purposed to do things as He has, He needed a strategist and a servant to produce the great-grandfather of King David, just as, later, he needed a young maiden named Mary to be the vessel through which the Descendant of David would be virgin-born. And somehow, in ways hidden to the minds of men, He needs you, probably in combination with a person unlike yourself, perhaps with someone you don’t understand, maybe even one that frustrates you because they approach life so differently. I don’t know if you are the strategist, or servant, or something else, but we know we don’t accomplish many of God’s purposes alone.

Whatever Prayer; Whatever Plea

Is there someone to whom you can talk about absolutely anything and everything? Is there a relationship in which there are no forbidden subjects? With whom do you have zero secrets?

The truth is that in just about every human relationship, there are “off” subjects. Even husbands and wives have issues that are a bit dangerous to address. Best friends might not stay best friends if one said everything that crossed his mind.

So can you imagine a relationship that is completely open? That is what the people of God have with their God, their heavenly Father, in the covenantal relationship which says, “I will be their God, and they will be my people.” In the Old Testament of the Scriptures, in 2 Chronicles, as Solomon is dedicating the long-awaited temple in Jerusalem, the king prays to God on behalf of the people. He prays with amazing  honesty, confessing their sins and grieving their penalties in advance; and and then, when they return, that God would hear their prayer. In every situation, when the ugly truths are confessed, that God would receive “whatever prayer, whatever plea.” No forbidden subjects. No situation too dangerous to share.

Why can we be so open with God? There are probably several reasons, but the most obvious is contained in the very next verse: “for You, You only, know the hearts of the children of mankind.” If God already knows, then it is the height of foolishness to try to keep Him in the dark. And further, if God wants to help and to heal, it is depth of stupidity to try and handle the offense on our own, since it was our own independence from Him that got us into this situation in the first place.

The old hymn says, “What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear; What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer.” And the chorus: “Oh, what peace we often forfeit; oh, what needless pain we bear; all because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.” Let’s not be stupid and stubborn. Let’s adopt the little phrase, “whatever prayer, whatever plea.” And what is the motivation for doing so? Another old song starts out, “No one understands like Jesus. He’s a friend beyond com-pare.” Verse 2 says, “No understands like Jesus; Every woe He sees and feels. Tenderly He whispers comfort, And the broken heart He heals.”

Few in Number, of Little Account, and Sojourners

Bigger is generally considered to be better. We pick that which has the best reputation, the 5-star reviews. And we see the value of standing out, by fitting in - unique, just like everyone else. And yet, in this song of praise from Israel’s history, when David had become king, and worship (and the ark) was moved, finally, to Jerusalem - there is a note in the song that at one time, this is who they were; few in number; of little account; and sojourners.

In our corner of this world system, we are accustomed to how things are evaluated, chosen, and valued. In order to make it, you need the high test score, or athletic success. You need to learn the art of being known (gain followers?), and you need to know and be skilled in how things work. But God … (those most important and treasured words in the Bible) - But God doesn’t work that way. He specializes in seeing the overlooked; in noticing the invisible; of including outsiders. Which means? There is hope for people like you and me.

Could it be that God already has his eye on you? Is it possible that He has already been shaping your past and your present, so that you would walk in the knowledge of Him (since, as we’ve hinted, He already knows you)? Has He been invading your thoughts, troubling your conscience, or alerting you to something missing? How would He do such a thing? Perhaps through a casual conversation; a question that begs asking, or begs answering; a line from a song, or a phrase from Scripture; or even a written piece by a fellow, lone soul, of no account, and a sojourner.

Ravi Zacharias writes about God, calling Him “The Grand Weaver.” He shows how God, throughout our lives, - how He threads and weaves experiences and thoughts and conclusions into our mundane lives, into our short attention spans, that we might discover the wonder of the grace of God. We might be tempted to credit ourselves with the discovery, but in honor of God, the Grand Weaver, we must admit that He discovers these things to us. 

We might be tempted to think that God would notice us simply because we are so central to ourselves. But we know better. He who is central to self is necessarily peripheral to everyone else. Or we might think that God  can’t help Himself, given our attraction-quotient. Or, maybe, honestly, God’s grace includes the few, the unnoticed, the outsiders.