October 28, 2011

Ascending to the Lowest

The setting is ancient Israel. The prophet Isaiah is denouncing the king of Babylon -- political archenemy to the Israelites. But in the midst of his "proverb against the king of Babylon" we notice a change in the tone.
How you are fallen from heaven, 
O Lucifer, son of the morning! 
How you are cut down to the ground, 
You who weakened the nations! 
For you have said in your heart: 
‘I will ascend into heaven, 
I will exalt my throne above the stars of God; 
I will also sit on the mount of the congregation 
On the farthest sides of the north; 
I will ascend above the heights of the clouds, 
I will be like the Most High.’ 
Yet you shall be brought down to Sheol, 
To the lowest depths of the Pit. (Isaiah 14:12-15)
Fallen from heaven? This isn't about a political enemy, but a spiritual adversary.

Once called Lucifer, son of the morning, he occupied heaven. Yet, he ends up in the "depths of the pit". How?

I was recently talking with a philosophy professor about how a perfect being could choose to do wrong.  The question we debated was why wouldn't God simply create beings who would never choose to do wrong? But if they are guaranteed to always choose rightly, is it still a choice? What defines a choice? How do choices happen?

And that is how such philosophical word games often go, seldom resolving much. Fortunately Isaiah wasn't a philosopher but a prophet. Rather than toying with the meanings of words, he offers us an insight to the heart of the matter. Lucifer's heart.

Note what Lucifer desired: to ascend, exalt above, sit on the mount, the north, ascend above. He desired to go up. Not just to be like the Most High by reflecting Him, but to take his place, even ascend above him. But desiring the highest, he fell to the lowest.

And where did He fall too? Revelation records that "the great dragon was cast out [of heaven], that serpent of old, called the Devil and Satan, who deceives the whole world; he was cast to the earth, and his angels were cast out with him" (12:9). Enter the talking snake of Genesis.

But this is where things get personal. No longer is this a story about a distant star gone dark; we're now on home territory.

Many greats grandma Eve enters into dialogue with the snake. The particular topic, fruit eating, isn't as important as the decision she is being called to. God had presented command and consequence: don't eat it, you'll die. The snake presents an alternative: eat it, "you will be like God".

Catch that? "Like God". It's the same as the snake, formerly Lucifer, had desired. Not the "likeness" that brings one into harmony with God and His commands. No; this is the envious likeness that seeds rebellion. To stand in His place, even above.

The snake's offer was attractive. Eve "saw that the tree was good for food, that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree desirable to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate."

Notice, contrary to the command, she declares the tree as "good". In the creation context, this is highly significant.

Remember? God created. Then He saw what He had made and declared that "it was good". Seven times in the first chapter of Genesis and a few more in the second God determines what is good and what is not.

Now, rather than exercising judgement to recognize the fruit is not good by God's command, Eve places herself in the position of God and attempts to utter a contrary declaration: the tree is good for food.

Like Lucifer, Eve and along with her Adam attempt to stand in the place of God, even to act against and above Him.

And like Lucifer, humanity falls.

What does this fall mean? Surprisingly, a genealogical record offers insight:

This is the book of the genealogy of Adam. In the day that God created man, He made him in the likeness of God. He created them male and female, and blessed them and called them Mankind in the day they were created. And Adam lived one hundred and thirty years, and begot a son in his own likeness, after his image, and named him Seth. (Genesis 5:1-3)
Adam made in God's image. But notice Seth in Adam's likeness. Post-fall, we descendants find ourselves with the image of fallen Adam marring the originally intended image of God.

Which means the spirit of Lucifer and of our first parents -- the created desiring to stand in the place of and even above the Creator -- we should expect to find rampant in society today.

We should expect our religious systems to be corrupted by it. We should expect the aims of our nations to be tainted by it. We should expect our relationships to suffer because of it. We should even expect our own hearts to be plagued by it.

Simply put, we should expect to be wholly fallen, entirely lost. Fated with the fallen star to dwell in that pit forever.

By trying to take God's place, we cut off our dependence on Him. And created without Creator, life without daily Life-giver, is not a possibility. So we perish.

But we're still here. This signals hope. We'll explore this hope in another blog post.

October 15, 2011

Letter to a Young Moon

Dear Luna,

First let me congratulate you -- it is a great honor being chosen as a moon. You now have a high task before you, to light the night sky of your planet. As you know, many of your planet's residents dwell in darkness; they're depending on you for light.

Undoubtedly, your lunar experience will be filled with many highs and lows. However, as a fellow moon, I thought it prudent to write to you some words of advice.

The most important thing to remember: you don't generate light, you reflect it.

I know you were taught this in your training, but young moons too often forget it. They begin to think there is some energy in themselves, some natural merit, that sets them apart and turns them into a natural light source. They forget that they are just dusty rocks, naturally cold and dark. There is but one light source in this system, the Sun. All the light you will ever shine will originate in him.

Therefore, keep your focus on the Sun. Don't let the darkness discourage you; as long as you stay in the Sun's presence, you'll reflect his radiance.

Unfortunately, periods will come when you let something get between you and the Sun. You'll let your planet, who it's your job to light, cut off your view of the Sun. Once again, you'll be dark and reminded of your natural state. But don't be utterly discouraged! This is a crisis, but it'll also serve as a reminder: you don't generate light, you reflect it. In this dark period, seek out the Sun. His light is still shining, waiting to illuminate you.

There is one final warning I must offer. It is shameful to say, but I must report it. There is another way in which moons fail their illuminating duty. Again, it is born in the moon's pride. He begins thinking too highly of himself, of his ability to light, and so he begins to climb into a more exalted place of the sky till he finds himself in the Sun's spot eclipsing the light to his planet.

You see, us moons were never purposed to light the whole sky. Only to magnify and point back to the Sun's light. When we attempt to stand in his position, the result is utter darkness. The day appears as night. An eclipse.

But this needn't be. Just remember: you don't generate light, you reflect it.

So seek out the Sun and dwell in his presence. It really is the greatest honor to have been chosen to abide there and reflect his awesome light.


"We are to be centers of light and blessing to our little circle, even as He is to the universe. We have nothing of ourselves, but the light of His love shines upon us, and we are to reflect its brightness."
Thoughts from the Mount of Blessing, p. 77