We are all fools. That damned tree in the garden made sure that we were. The knowledge of good and evil. We have become experts at lying to ourselves.
A long time ago we were convinced to eat of the fruit of the tree. Convinced that we could be like God. Spurred by our arrogance and ambition and fostered by the desires of our flesh, we took our sight off of God. If we could just know good from evil, right from wrong, all would be better. Life would make sense. We could avoid pain and uncertainty.
But we were made for pain and uncertainty, because we are not God. The tree granted me a knowledge of good and evil. It showed me that these things were. But the assumption that with knowledge comes understanding is presumptuous.
All of my sin, all of it, stems from my imperfect understanding of good and evil. My knowledge is relative; so closely related to me. True goodness gets lost in humanism, linear timing, and my extreme lack of holiness. And in the lie that the worst evil is physical death. It is a myriad of imperfection. The miracle is that I have any lucid moments at all in such a maze of self-righteousness, entitlement, and pride.
I get angry over abandoned children, but they have a plan designed by God. I hate johns prowling the streets, but they have been hurt by existence and have millions of hairs on their head all known by the Father. I can’t understand the plans. I fear death and dying, though it is inevitable for Heaven to fully manifest.
My walk, or attempted walk, closer to Christ has taught me a scary truth. I don’t understand good and evil. The Spirit inside me does its perfect work, but somewhere in the filter of my flesh, the mystery of God gets bigger than I can comprehend.
Falling in love with Jesus means dying to my knowledge. Forgetting what I think I know and forsaking all answers save Christ alone. Christ’s eyes see peace and joy because they see perfect good. Peace and joy still allow for hurt and heartbreak and mourning, if they are done perfectly with an eternally good perspective. I long to be this way. I long to see this way. Which is really just another arrogant materialization of my absurd knowledge of good and evil. Because what I should want, what I was created to want, is the ability to celebrate the God who sees for me and calls me to better understanding through obedience and sacrifice.
