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Re (2): Degrees of Knowledge

IP: 146.7.104.147
Posted on March 10, 2005 at 10:06:11 AM by Eric

Then the LORD God called to the man, and said to him, "Where are you?" He said, "I heard the sound of You in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid myself."

It seems to me that there is really only one thing that dams off that running dialog with our Lord "in the cool of the garden" and causes us to hide ourselves: it is disobedience—sin—and the resultant guilt and shame that causes us to turn away in self-loathing. If there is any simple fact that we can empirically test in the laboratory of our own spiritual lives, it is this one: our sin separates us from God and keeps us from enjoying fellowship with Him, just as adultery separates two lovers. In time, if the sin goes unchecked and the guilt continues to build, despair hardens us over and we began to become callous, returning again and again to our adulterous relations as a dog returns to its vomit. We become unloving and unlovable. So then, we either run from God or are unable to find Him in large part due to guilty consciences, our fingers stained in blood.

"So when you spread out your hands in prayer, I will hide My eyes from you; yes, even though you multiply prayers, I will not listen; your hands are covered with blood."

—Isaiah 1:15

There is, of course, nothing to be done. When we are guilty, we are guilty, and though we wash our hands and wash our hands and wash our hands yet again, the blood can never be unspilt. That is where our Redeemer and Messiah must come in, the Husband coming to reclaim His adulterous Bride, buying her back from her indecorous bondage and slavery, her utter shame and perversity, her heartrending infidelity.

Come now, and let us reason together," Says the LORD, "Though your sins are as scarlet, they will be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they will be like wool."

—Isaiah 1:18

Christ is our glorious Kinsman Redeemer, our Lord, our Master—it is His red blood that washes our sins white—and He has been given the keys to heaven, hell, life, and death.

And I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse, and He who sat on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness He judges and wages war.

His eyes are a flame of fire, and on His head are many diadems; and He has a name written on Him which no one knows except Himself.

He is clothed with a robe dipped in blood, and His name is called The Word of God.

And the armies which are in heaven, clothed in fine linen, white and clean, were following Him on white horses.

From His mouth comes a sharp sword, so that with it He may strike down the nations, and He will rule them with a rod of iron; and He treads the wine press of the fierce wrath of God, the Almighty.

And on His robe and on His thigh He has a name written, "KING OF KINGS, AND LORD OF LORDS."


—Revelation 19:11-16

Who is this King of Kings and Lord of Lords and why does He ride on His horse of white? Could He, might He, be enacting the final cleansing of something the man of the formerly unclean lips had once suggested about His character and His expectations?

Wash yourselves, make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your deeds from My sight. Cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, reprove the ruthless, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.

—Isaiah 1:16-17

The hardness of the human heart is the result of sin. Sin separates us from God: initially, because our consciences are guilty, the blood on our fingers a constant reminder; later because we despair, becoming hardened and calloused, pride and self-sufficiency setting in, shoring ourselves up to live in this unremitting state of guiltiness. Thus, we have the empirical proof in the Modern existentialist whose virtues are a stiff upper lip and a face set like flint to live in the Godless universe of his own soul. "Where is God? He is dead; His blood is on our own hands." Perhaps the prophet Nietzsche did not realize the depth of his revelation. God is dead, severed in our psyches, layered over with many layers of sin and shame and guilt—there is nothing we can do but confess but in order to confess we must confess the name that causes us to feel our guilt so acutely—that we simply have grown a stiff upper lip to combat, trying to go on living in spite of already dying inside, unforgiven and unforgiving. But while we can see the letter writ large in a nihilistic philosophy, we fail at times to see that in our own lives, the running dialog generally only ceases when we too are tempted, sin, stumble, and then run and hide from God. That has been the story of man for thousands of years and we bear it out nearly every day in a constant struggle—though we have a distinct advantage over Jacob: the Angel with whom we wrestle, wrestles with us, for He was, and is, the Angel of the Lord, the Christophany, the Second Person of the Immortal Trinity. Nietzsche was right to consider it perverse that it is His blood we have on our fingers, but Nietzsche was blinded to the beauty of such awful grace. One must stoop low to enter that door: it is narrow and one's pride trips over it every time. Thus Nietzsche could see far better than many who claim the name, but he was nonetheless blind: he stopped just short of the door, for his reprobate pride would not let him stoop low enough to enter. That thought of the Murdered One pardoning his own murderer—the though of murder ushering in such awful grace—was too much to bear: it was an offense to Nietzsche's pride, thus seeing he could not see, hearing he could not hear.

God bless,
Eric

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