We all have this experience. There is something that we could do, something that we think we really want to do, something we’ve never done before but thought about, that we know, if we did it, something would change irreversibly forever.
In most cases, these are probably good things, but sometimes they are things that are not good (we know they deviate from the true north of our moral compass), but in either case, if we did them, we know for sure that something would change irreversibly forever.
The moment of decision and the moment of action are usually so close, when we choose to act, that we can almost justifiably look back and say, “it was done in a fit of passion,” and thereby try to alleviate the blame, if the act was an bad one, or if it seemed good at the time but later produced bad fruits.
On a micro scale, this process of choice-decision-act is happening to us all the time, and we scarcely notice the effects. As the scale of cause and effect increases, we become more aware of the intentionalism and realism of the process. At the top of the scale, though few are aware of it, there is going to be one action which, if we take it, will change one thing irreversibly forever, and catastrophically.
The irony of this one action is that,
in the desiring of it resides the source of all the moral energy that we have, all the energy that is in us for good, to achieve good things, to desire good acts, ultimately to do the one truly good act, to believe in God and in Jesus Christ whom He has sent. To refrain from committing this one act makes all other acts possible; to commit it, renders all other acts useless.
For all its other meanings, the account in Genesis 2 and 3 has this meaning. Our first parents Adam and Eve were given as food the fruit of every tree in the garden of paradise which God created, except for the fruit of one of two very special trees.
The tree of life, whose fruit they were permitted, of all the other trees in the garden, not only nourished them physically, but also spiritually—by eating the fruit of this tree, they would never die. The tree of the knowledge of good and evil, its twin in being specially created, was the only tree in paradise the fruit of which was absolutely forbidden to them as food. They must not eat of its fruit. They could see it, they might touch it (though they probably dare not), but of its fruit they must not eat.
Though they might desire it, with or without the help of the tempter, they must not eat of it, else they would die. Something would change irreversibly forever. It was in the desiring of it, while not partaking of it—in the single-hearted obedience to the word spoken in their ears by their Creator—that resided the source of all the moral energy that they had, all the energy that was in them for good.
That was how He had created them. Nothing He created was meaningless or just for show. No word of His spoken to them, or to us, at any time, has ever been only to dominate us or to rule over us, to show us who is in charge. He does not need to do that. We know who we are, who He is, instinctively, just as we instinctively know wrong from right, darkness from light. We are not blind.
No, He created Adam and Eve this way, and paradise with its two special trees, and spoke the one commandment, to reveal to them and to us how reality works, and what our part in reality is. It’s not merely a story, but the revelation of the nature of all that is, against the learning of all that is not.
In the children’s book by C. S. Lewis, The Magician’s Nephew, there is a parallel story that alludes to this very same idea, that which I am trying to describe here. There is no need to recount the story from this book, but perhaps to quote a short poem from it will add some hint of meaning that I have may have missed.
Come in by the gold gates or not at all.
Take of my fruit for others or forbear,
for those who steal or those who climb my wall
shall find their heart’s desire, and find despair.
* * *
“…the source of all the moral energy that they had, all the energy that was in them for good,” I wrote a few paragraphs above. What brought on all the foregoing thoughts, culminating in this line, was an experience I had last Saturday.
I accompanied my best friend to a presentation at a local college of therapeutic massage, open to the public to introduce potential students to the institution and its curriculum. We had a suspicion that, this being the West Coast, there might be a lot of “New Age” influences at this college. What we weren’t prepared for was the fact that we were the only two males in the audience of about four times as many females (the group wasn’t large). Needless to say, the presentation was very feminist oriented. All but one of the women in the audience seemed to be the typical Oregonian goddess-worshipper type, and the one who wasn’t was from Washington state. One of the presenters was a current female student who was quite outspoken in flattering the college and flaunting her special relationship with a Tibetan shaman who was teaching her some nameless discipline. One of the young women in the audience was persistent in wanting to know who this was, and the student told her to get her phone number from the registrar (who was in the room) so she could get her “connected.” I wasn’t really surprised by any of this, once I realised into what a coven we had fallen. The only other man in the room was the main presenter, who was emasculated after years of catering to this kind of student clientele.
At one point in the presentation (which we surmised was supposed to be a sample simulation of the kind of instruction and philosophy available at the school), we were paired up, and each had a turn at being a practitioner and a client. The room was darkened, except for two dim, floor lamps. The presenter guided us “practitioners” in getting into the right frame of mind to “connect” with our “clients.” Unfortunately I can’t quote exactly what he said, but the drift of it was something like this.
Focus on that which is your energy source, that force inside you that is for good, for wholeness, whatever it is, maybe it’s your love for nature, or music, or the fun times you have with your kids, whatever it is that is the source of your personal power to act. Now, let that source of power release energy into your body, let it descend into your hands. When you feel the energy in your hands, place your hands above your client’s shoulders but do not touch them. Let that energy descend to your client and when you feel it connecting, let your hands drop down onto your client’s shoulders. Let that energy speak “gratitude” to your client. Let your hands let the client know how grateful you are for them being there… on and on the presenter spoke almost as an incantation. Then after two or three minutes of this, he told us to begin withdrawing our energy back into ourselves and to disconnect from the client. Then when the energy was pulled back into its mysterious source, we should raise our hands off our clients and totally withdraw. Afterwards we were told to exchange with our clients what each of us felt during the experience.
When it was my turn to be the “practitioner” and heard the presenter’s instructions, I was startled, and tried to translate them into my reality in Christ, who is the only source of power, though not of personal power in the way he seemed to be implying. Luckily, my “client” was my best friend, and we are already “connected” in the only way possible, by sharing in the same mind of Christ. Instinctively, I knew what the presenter was trying to have happen, because it’s what happens when a Christian truly ministers to another human being. The problem was, as usual in the world, the right and real way of doing what he was trying to do, he would not even consider. Instead of turning to Christ, whom he doesn’t accept, he substitutes “whatever it is that is the source of your personal power to act,” that is, anything but Christ. Of course, if he were to actually ask what our “source” was, and we told him, “Christ,” political correctness would have forced him to patronize us with some neutral words of appreciation, and then hurry on to a less dangerous topic.
My friend and I concluded afterward that this was just how things are out here, and that if a person wants to learn this practice and be certified, he has to endure the “New Age” and feminist environment that has captured it. As for being the only men present, we were ourselves and spoke and acted as men and not as emasculates, and this was an obvious irritation to some in the audience. Had they known we were followers of “that Man,” their scorn for us would probably have reached a flashing point.
This post probably seems like two separate posts, but really it isn’t. Both parts of it are about the mystery and the problem of what empowers us for good as human beings.
Well, of course I know the simple, pat answer from most Christians would simply be “God” or “Christ” empowers us, but that’s the obvious answer. I wanted to know how does He empower us?
What is the spiritual mechanism of this empowerment?
I believe this mechanism to be our deepest desire, not what we admit to others or even to ourselves is our deepest desire, for that is often the answer that’s expected. Instead, it’s the deepest desire which may not seem to have a direct bearing on “religion” or even on “spirituality,” and yet it is the thing we were born desiring.
It is the thing we were born desiring but know, by the light of Christ when we accept Him, that it is impossible to obtain in this life without forfeiting Him.
This seems so unfair when we first encounter it in all its dreadful majesty. We are not forbidden to desire, but we are to obey the one commandment that prevents its fulfillment, and by that obedience become instruments of God in this world, and finally fit rulers of the next.
The ban will be lifted. The Throne of God and of the Lamb will be in its place in the City; His servants will worship Him, they will see Him face to face, and His Name will be written on their foreheads. It will never be night again and they will not need lamplight or sunlight, because the Lord God will be shining on them. They will reign for ever and ever.
Revelation 22:3-5 Jerusalem Bible
I have been angry—at myself, at other people, at situations—and sometimes I have acted out the anger in emotional outbursts, foolish words, hurtful words. Strangely, I have never experienced what I have heard from others, anger at God. Maybe it’s because of my upbringing—I don’t know—but He could never be an object of my anger, because He always ends up being the only comforting bosom to which I can flee when everyone and all else fails me.
Scenario. A young professional woman, an engineer, works overseas for two or three years to “get her feet wet,” really wet, after graduating from school. She is a Christian. She’s been brought up that way by church-going parents. She is a product of white, mainline Protestant America, did all the right things, and made a career for herself that she can fall back on when, after marriage and the kids past infancy, she can work again at a job that she likes and that pays well.
