Hey, Cobblestone,
Our story begins with a snake in the garden. Uninvited and
unannounced, it wound its way through the beauty and serenity of a place not
its own, looking to cause trouble.
Uh-oh, hold up a second. Maybe you’re under the impression I
was talking about the serpent from Genesis 3, and the original garden in Eden.
No, not THAT snake. Well, not exactly. Not yet, anyway.
To explain: my bride has a garden on our property that she
has cultivated for many years. Hostas spring up from the ground and Rose of
Sharon overshadows the little patch. There’s moss for carpet and, miraculously,
my bride has even coaxed a few sun-loving plants into joining the party. Being
on the north side of a two-story house, she often finds shade and respite from
heat.
And then she screamed.
Fellas, you come running when your beloved screams, right?
Thanks. Me too. I ran to the garden – a short sprint on our postage-stamp
property – to find a sizable serpent coiled up in one of the few sunny patches.
Kay had reached in to pull some weeds. She found the forked togue darting her
direction. Scream-worthy, indeed.
“That thing has GOT to go.”
“I agree, Baby; I’ll get it right away.” But right away, in
my world, meant right after I finished the email I was working on.
Finding me at the computer, my bride said, “I thought you
were coming out to get the snake.”
“If I do that now, I’ll forget to finish this email.”
“Well, you’re too late. The snake is gone. It’s in your
garage, by the way.”
Phooey.
On the plus side, I became extra vigilant, snake-wise. Several
days later, on a dedicated serpent safari, I spotted the critter. Upon
gathering my snake-catching equipment (this wasn’t the first time), I went out
for the catch. Snakes are generally faster than humans in an emergency – faster
than this human, anyway – so it took a bit of foraging on my part.
Thankfully, the snake went for a hole in the house siding (I probably ought to
close that off, huh?). Problem was – problem for the snake, providence for me –
it left its hinder parts exposed. That’ll do. The snake got a habitat upgrade.
Now it can take its chances with the red-tailed hawks, like the rest of snake
world, and quit slithering around in my bride’s serenity garden. Screaming is
not serene.
There’s a tendency to think that the parables Jesus told were
merely stories made up out of thin air, like a preacher giving “illustrations”
with no basis in reality. I don’t buy it. With access to every nano-moment of
the human experience, I believe Jesus was giving us the real story of real
people in real history and geography. Likewise, I believe, if we look for the
opportunities, many of our day-to-day events will point us to the eternal
truths Jesus alluded to in the parables.
Our story does indeed start with a snake in the garden – yes,
that snake, and yes, that garden. The first exercise of free
will. It didn’t go well. I have a recurring biblical fantasy that involves Adam
stepping between the invader and his bride, saying, “Not today, you egg-suckin’
serpent, not ever!” Thereupon, he snatches the would-be deceiver by the
hinder parts, and like an Olympian hammer-thrower, hurls him plumb into
No-Man’s Land. “And STAY out!”
Alas, it did not happen that way. “But woe to you, O
earth and sea, for the devil has come down to you in great wrath,
because he knows that his time is short!” (Revelation 12:12b).
“Woe” – an old-timey word with no equal in modern language. It’s a rough gig,
for sure. Can I get an Amen?
The serpent’s story, however, has a predetermined ending.
Time is one thing; eternity is quite another. Observe:
And when the thousand years are ended, Satan will be
released from his prison and will come out to deceive the nations
that are at the four corners of the earth, Gog and Magog, to gather
them for battle; their number is like the sand of the sea. And they
marched up over the broad plain of the earth and surrounded the camp of
the saints and the beloved city, but fire came down from
heaven and consumed them, and the devil who had deceived them
was thrown into the lake of fire and sulfur where the beast and the
false prophet were, and they will be tormented day and night forever and ever (Revelation 20:7-10).
And what-the-heck do we do in the meantime? Cower? Go with
the woe?
Maybe our Father has made a better way. I confidently submit
that there are victories, small and great, to be had over the serpent – in
Jesus’ name and in the power of the Holy Spirit – in the here-and-now.
The first two humans were given dominion over every living
thing that moves on the earth (Genesis 1:28), including the serpent, who is
described as a beast of the field (Genesis 3:1). Adam relinquished that
absolute authority when he sided with the serpent, setting up a truly woe-full
experience for the rest of us. But that’s not the whole story.
Jesus reclaimed authority over the serpent. In human form –
in actual humanness, to be sure – he paid the price and won the victory. In
humanness and divinity, he has, ever since, conferred a sizable amount of that
authority on humans who are his younger brothers and sisters, children of the
Father and joint heirs with the Son.
Thankfully, we don’t have to go mano-a-mano with Satan, as
Adam did. We have an Advocate: the Holy Spirit, given of the Father. We have a
Champion: Jesus, the ultimate overcomer. I love what the archangel said, “The
Lord rebuke you” (Jude 9), a far better choice than presuming to pronounce
a blasphemous judgment on the devil. Satan is condemned already – I get the
idea from Scripture that the Almighty is happy to send him frequent reminders.
Hop on the archangel bus and practice it with me: “The LORD
rebuke you, Satan!” Whereupon, we hold fast to the Father, saying something
like, “I believe you’ve got this, Papa.” He also, routinely, gives his kids a
chance to participate in the victory – a preview, if you will, of when we get
to fight on the final winning side.
Obviously, my hero status with my bride was in need of some
serious scrubbing and polishing, after letting that snake slither around the
garden for several days. I was ever so glad to participate, gloved-hands-on: I
literally prayed out loud, “O Lord, let me catch this snake!” I hope the snake
– or perhaps the patrolling hawk – is happy with the new arrangement… circle of
life and all that. I’m glad for a particle of redemption on my hero status.
Whose hero will you be today?
Grace and Peace (and you can borrow my snake-catching gear if
you have none of your own),
John
