Getting through the first three chapters of First John has been a battle for me, and, as I’ve stated before, I am not sure why that is. I glimpsed hints of something greater as I worked through the verses, but I am at a loss to effectively convey any of it. When trying to look at it directly – always my bent – it disappears or resolves into something mundane as a plowhorse. I guess we’ll harness him and plough on soon, but for today, we’ll go fishing instead.
My wife frequently takes her mother to the library, and she will occasionally pick up books for herself, or, if something strikes her, she will bring one or two back for me to read. John Eldredge is a writer in the pop-Christianity genre, targeting men primarily in the 24-39 age group, at least that’s what I’d guess. I have trouble relating to a forty-something guy who has the time, the resources, and the understanding wife (named “Stasi” – no doubt with a heart over the “i”) to gallivant all over the West fly-fishing and climbing mountains. The message seems to be that it is OK to be a man and a Christian. I don’t mean at all to knock the man or his books, which I have only skimmed in the bookstore up until now. My point is that when my wife dropped a library copy of Eldredge’s
Fathered by God on my desk, I had zero interest in reading it. On the other hand, I knew she would ask me about it, and occasionally she does bring me something of benefit so I don’t want discourage her, and the last thing I want to hear is a dissertation on how I don’t appreciate her efforts to make me happy.
To that end, after a couple of days I opened the book and in my best evelyn-woodhead-sped-redden-course manner proceeded to rapidly look at every page to find something that I might truthfully tell the wife I had found enlightening. The part about the author being attracted to a hotel desk clerk who reminded him of a girl he had done in high school didn’t look too promising as a discussion point. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find anything then I ran across this:
Jesus treats him [Satan] like a real person (not a human being, but a fallen angel with an intellect and personality). He doesn’t treat the temptations and accusations and assault simply as if they were weaknesses within Himself; nor does He act as if they will go away if He tries to ignore him. He directly confronts the demon present out loud, with authority, and with Scripture. (From a copy I made in my notebook at the time I read the book, so any errors are a result of my transcribing, and I apologize.)
The first word that came to mind when I read that was “projection”, but in the case of Jesus that is obviously not correct. The weakness was external to Him. The temptation did not arise from His nature which is not fallen as mine is. Go back to the Garden. The serpent was external to Adam. Prior to the Fall, man was united with God and the accuser was separated from him. The Fall united man with something alien while alienating him from his true Father. This remained the situation until the Cross put the unreal element out of commission.
If Paul is correct (and he is) in telling us we have died to sin – “reckon yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus” (Romans 6:11) – then temptation arises from a sector that is not genuine to us. This is no projection but legitimate spiritual surgery that disconnects us from our evil Siamese twin. There is a reason why movies like
Alien,
The Thing, or
Invasion of the Body Snatchers are so compelling for us. They illustrate a horrible truth we have trouble articulating. Something that is inside us or that can mimic us is destroying us.
When Christ died on the cross, He took that alien entity out. He forever severed the connection between man and the demonic. The old nature is not dead in the sense that it has quit kicking, but it is rendered inoperable. It hangs on only by deception. All the temptations and accusations I now face are outside of my spirit, and I should deal with them just as Jesus did. The darkness is not me. I am a child of God. I am righteousness and light.