Epistemology and the Fall: The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil

Epistemology and the Fall: The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil

Knowledge is better than ignorance, knowing than not knowing, as you can appreciate when you see the pilot enter the cockpit on a flight you’re about to take. Or when you see the surgeon and medical professionals wheel a loved one into an operating room. Or let’s say you’re lost in a place you’ve never been without a map, nowadays without your phone able to display Waze or Google Maps because there is no cell service. You’re nervous because it’s dark and you’re alone and low on gas. What you would give for the knowledge that comes with cell service or a map now. Yet sometimes ignorance is better than knowledge, as when bad guys want to do harm but don’t know how to use a weapon. Or a child not knowing how difficult their life is going to be. Then we might use a saying we’re all familiar with—ignorance is bliss.

Yet at the very beginning of our faith, it’s genesis we might say, is a prohibition by God not to eat from a tree he called “the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” It’s fascinating that what is philosophically called epistemology, the study of knowing, has been central to our religion from the very beginning. That this tree is right next to another tree, one God called “the tree of life,” is also something to ponder. And as we learn in Genesis 2, these two trees were in the middle of the garden, not out on the periphery or in some random location. Whatever is in the middle or center of something is of the most importance, and in some way life and knowledge are connected. We don’t know in verse 9 when we’re told this what the relationship between these two might be, if there is any at all, but I suspect there must be given their proximity. We know specifically that knowledge at least has an inverse relation to life in that it can cause death. We’re told after “The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it,” he gives the man this warning:

“You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; 17 but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die.”

It may be the act of disobedience to God is what causes the death, or the knowledge itself. Most seem to think it was a kind of test, that the prohibition was a probation, a trial to see if man could be trusted with such knowledge. He could not, as we know.

Again, we’re not told, and over the millennia there has been much speculation as to what this might mean. It could be both knowledge and disobedience, in that disobedience to God is what made man’s awareness of evil a reality and thus caused death. It seems man was created not to have knowledge of evil because everything God created was very good. There was no evil in the world prior to the fall, but evil existed in the universe, in the non-material world because Satan had already fallen. We’re getting into mysteries beyond the ability of the finite human imaginations to comprehend.

It is clear from the rest of Scripture, however, and common sense, that knowledge itself is not the issue given we are exhorted continually to grow in our knowledge because knowledge is a good thing. For example, the Lord says through Hosea that “my people are destroyed from lack of knowledge” (Hos. 4:6). And we see from Proverbs that wisdom is knowledge rightly applied. It very much depends on what kind of knowledge we’re talking about, knowledge of what and how it is used. So if we go back to the garden we might conclude that man already had and could grow in his knowledge of the good, like the God’s creation in order to rule over the earth, to fill and subdue it. They couldn’t do that without knowledge. That means we’re left with the conjunction “and,” or the connection between knowledge and evil. It is knowledge about evil that was the issue, knowing what evil is. Another way to put that is, man would now have the knowledge of taking God’s good creation and perverting it, turning good into evil.

You Will Be Like God: Knowledge and the Fall
We’re not told, but we can speculate if man had passed the test, he could then be trusted with such knowledge, and have access to the tree of life forever. This understanding seems to fit because the tree of life is at the beginning and end of the Bible. There are four references to it in the book of Revelation, three of those in the last chapter. The first reference is in chapter 2:

To the one who is victorious, I will give the right to eat from the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God.

Adam and Eve lost that right to paradise because they chose to disobey God. Satan knew if he could get man on his side in his rebellion, he would have a better chance to take down God who he saw as the usurper, the one who had taken his rightful throne as ruler of the universe. Talk about hubris. He was the one created by God, not God by him. So the first thing he does is question God’s command, “Did God really say?” When Eve answers the question, then Satan calls God a liar by contradicting him, “You will not certainly die.” Then he attacks his character, “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” The implication is that God is petty and jealous and doesn’t want man to have what he has.

This threefold attack is at the center of every sinful human being; question God, accuse him of lying, then attack his character. Man’s motivation at the center of his being now became the same as Satan’s; he wants to take back his rightful throne, to be the one calling the shots, to determine what is good and evil, to be like God. So, knowledge itself is not the issue, but who gets to be God.

22 And the Lord God said, “The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever.” 23 So the Lord God banished him from the Garden of Eden to work the ground from which he had been taken. 24 After he drove the man out, he placed on the east side of the Garden of Eden cherubim and a flaming sword flashing back and forth to guard the way to the tree of life.

An important question when thinking about these things is the nature of evil, what it is. This was Augustine’s dilemma, who writes about his struggle trying to figure out what evil is in his Confessions. Early in his life he was taken in by the Manicheans who believed good and evil were two distinct and equal forces in the world doing battle against one another vying for our loyalty, light verses darkness. Over time he realized that made no sense because he could never find something evil that was not first good perverted. In other words, the Bible’s account made more sense, that God created everything good, including knowledge, and man’s rebellion caused him to take the good thing God created and pervert it, use it for evil ends.

So what happened in the fall is that man now had the knowledge to misuse God’s good creation towards his selfish ends. Instead of allowing God to dictate the meaning of things and their use, man would do whatever he wanted. He would now live in the subjective world of his own meaning creation, rather than living in and discovering the objective meaning of God’s creation. This orientation is a definition of sin Augustine gave us, and Luther emphasized as well, “incurvatus in se,” in Latin, or being curved in on ourselves. For me it is the perfect definition, a self-orientation, instead of a God and others orientation, and ourselves in that context. Knowledge now became something we possess to build our own kingdoms, to be our own sovereigns, sitting on the throne of our lives for our glory. What could go wrong!

We see immediately how the horrible effects of this orientation began to manifest themselves. Adam and Eve didn’t die right away like God seemed to threaten; physical death would be later and be inevitable. But it was a kind of spiritual death. The first bit of knowledge they have is that they are naked. It hadn’t occurred to them before that was even an issue, but now it causes fear, specifically of God. So the first thing they do is sew fig leaves together and make themselves loincloths, which is a poignant expression of the futility of man’s efforts to escape the judgment of God. From that moment on, all history is one long story of human beings furiously sewing fig leaves to try to cover themselves from God’s wrath and judgment, and earn his favor; it doesn’t work. The world’s religions express this futility in a myriad of ways, but they can’t heal the chasm between sinful human beings and a holy God.

Then instead of communing with God when he comes “walking in the garden in the cool of the day,” they hide “themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden.” All religion is basically man hiding from God because he is our judge, jury, and executioner. No wonder we hide. Then in the very next chapter Cain kills Able, and it starts.

Thankfully, God had a plan and we’re given what’s called the protoevangelium, or the first declaration of the gospel in history. God promises the seed or offspring of the woman, Christ, will bruise or crush the serpent’s head, and redemptive history starts God’s millennia long process of reconciling himself to man, to save the world, and knowledge would be integral to that project—we’re given a book filled with it. But the serpent wouldn’t stop his deceits in the garden.

Knowledge and the Creation of the Modern Secular World
It’s no surprise we’re told that “the serpent was more crafty than any other beast of the field that the Lord God had made.” His deceits would manifest themselves in a variety of ways, and in the modern world he would use epistemology to bring down Christendom and turn it into a secular paradise more resembling a dystopia. I’m semi-obsessed with the history of ideas, and in the development of the modern West, knowledge and knowing is a central feature. It goes back to the ancient Greek sources that inspired Western intellectuals, but the ancients were primarily looking to discover the world as it was, while moderns were looking to remake the world; big difference.

As I’ve written about many times, it all started with a pious Catholic French philosopher, René Descartes (1596-1650). He was concerned about the growing skepticism developing in Europe, and decided to address it. He started by doubting everything that could be doubted, and came to the conclusion the only thing he couldn’t doubt was his own existence because of his own thinking. So he came up with a phrase so powerful it transformed the medieval world of Christendom into the modern world of secularism: I think therefore I am, or in Latin, cogito ergo sum. Speaking of orientations, the entire Western world began to shift form a God centered outward orientation, to a self-centered inward one. Talk about big differences—it was Satanically brilliant! This was the beginning of modern philosophy, and the so-called Enlightenment, an ironically named movement if ever there was one. With the development of rationalism, for the first time the world was given an epistemology based on human reason alone. The way we come to know is solely through our minds and thinking, our reason, which to Western cultural elites in due course made revelation unnecessary. Man would now get to determine good and evil on his own, no God required.

It didn’t take long for the the Satanic threefold attack to begin. It started with the questioning of God and his word. It wasn’t long before Baruch Spinoza (1632–1677), a the Jewish Portuguese Philosopher, decided Moses was not in fact the author of the Pentateuch. At the time this was highly controversial, and he was excommunicated from his Jewish community in Amsterdam for his troubles, but it wouldn’t be controversial for long. In the 18th century skepticism about the Bible increased, and philosophers started accusing God of lying, did he really say? French philosopher Voltaire (1694-1778) was the first to go public, so to speak, of directly attacking God’s character. After the terrible Lisbon earthquake in 1755 in which over 50,000 people lost their lives, he wrote a poem basically outlining the problem of evil, something no one would have thought to do before the Enlightenment. The late 18th century saw the rise of Deism and a God having nothing to do with the Bible. Then with the 19th we have a great flowering of open rebellion against God.

Once naturalism, nature is all there is, was accepted as axiomatic, unquestionable dogma, the Satanic floodgates opened. This all happened among intellectuals and cultural elites, and then slowly flowed down into the rest of Western culture. German philosophers like Kant and Hegel developed systems of thought that made the God of the Bible superfluous, although they weren’t themselves atheists. This gave rise to Marx and Darwin, and German biblical criticism, which treated the Bible as just another human fiction, more or less. This then fed something called liberal Christianity which was rationalism cloaked in religious garb, and secularism, society without God, became the worldview of Western culture. It took some time in the 20th century for the full flowering of a God-less view of reality to fully take over the culture, but by the infamous 60s the victory of Satan was complete. Now man had total moral autonomy, and over a hundred million people were killed in the process, but that was a small price to pay for man finally becoming “like God.” We’re now living in the rubble of epistemology without God.

But a funny thing happened on the way to John Lennon’s Imagine paradise. All the people were not living in peace. There was no brotherhood of man or the world living as one. Without God life was exactly what we would expect—a hellhole. And an increasing number of people want nothing to do with it. Being God isn’t as easy as it looks, and an increasing number of people want the life only God in Christ can provide, reconciliation to their Creator, and the blessings that comes along with it.

Ephesians 2 & 3: God’s Sovereign Almighty Power for Our and the World’s Salvation from Sin

Ephesians 2 & 3: God’s Sovereign Almighty Power for Our and the World’s Salvation from Sin

After being a born-again Christian for five years, one night by God’s providence I was introduced to Reformed theology, what some call Calvinism. In its broad contours it goes back to the great Bishop of Hippo (North Africa), Augustine (354-430), who emphasized man’s inability to save himself and God’s sovereignty in our salvation from sin. If you read through his Confessions, it’s clear who’s in the driver’s seat when it comes to God saving him from pride and paganism. I remember forty years ago like it was yesterday, going home that night after this introduction and opening my Bible to Ephesians. The gentlemen I’d just met and who would become a friend with profound influence on my life, suggested I read it, especially the first two chapters.

Up to that point, unlike Augustine, I saw my salvation and relationship to Christ as something where I was basically in the driver’s seat, and I clearly shouldn’t have been allowed on the road. I couldn’t have explained any of this given I had no understanding of theology, but that night as I read Ephesians, I saw it immediately and wondered how I’d missed it all those years. Now, instead of seeing my Christian faith in black and white, all of sudden it was in color, or having been trying to read about my faith in a foreign language and coming across an English translation; it all made sense now. Instead of me seeking after God and trying to be a good Christian, The Hound of Heaven had been seeking me and transforming my heart from within. Jonathan Edwards said our seeking and finding God doesn’t happen after a search on our part, but that our seeking and finding him starts with him seeking and saving us. This  was upside down and inside out from how I perceived things just earlier that same day.

Chosen and predestined in Christ: Spiritual Resurrection from the Dead
I’d probably read these words of Paul several times but somehow missed that God chose us in Christ before the creation of the world—I didn’t choose him; I couldn’t have, I wasn’t born yet! I realized my choosing him was because he first chose me; he initiated, I responded. That’s the way it always is in our relationship to God. As Paul says, God pre-determined, or predestined us, to be adopted as his sons through Christ, to be his heirs, even before we were born. I had nothing to do with any of it because it was all of his unmerited favor. And again, Paul says we were chosen because we were predestined, and that God had this all planned that it might happen “in conformity with the purpose of his will.”

All I could think of as I was reading and meditating on these words, as if for the first time, was the picture my new friend shared with me about how I might understand this process. I used to see salvation as if I were drowning in a pool, bobbing up and down in the water crying out for help. The gospel was the life preserver someone threw to me, I grabbed it and was saved! But now I realized I’d actually been dead, at the bottom of the pool, and God had to supernaturally raise me spiritually from dead, bring me to spiritual life so I could believe, so I could trust in Christ. This radical change in orientation, in perspective, changed everything for me.

Reading Ephesians 1 and 2 more than forty years later brings all that vividly back to life, and I see more than ever how The Hound of Heaven has molded and shaped me, transformed me, sometimes kicking and screaming, but wonderfully, amazingly, incredibly. I now see soteriology, our salvation from sin, not just as the immediate grace given to open our once blind eyes to God’s mercy and Christ’s merits for us, but as the lifelong transformation process we were promised in Christ. We are told that was Christ’s mission when Joseph was given his name, Jesus, by the angel in a dream (Matt. 1):

21 She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

I come back to this verse repeatedly because to me it says it all: he will save us, not try, not offer, not make it possible, but actually save us from our sins. This salvation, as the great hymn Rock of Ages says, is the double cure for sin from both its guilt and power. Reading Ephesians again reminded me that salvation is primarily about God and his work for, in, and through us. It’s not about me!

Ephesians 2 makes the contrast even more obvious. Paul brings death into the picture, and not merely as a metaphor, but as a spiritual reality. He tells us we are dead in our “transgressions and sins,” bottom of the pool, not flailing away in the deep end. Because of the way we lived, we were “by nature deserving of wrath.” Because we were unrepentant sinners, God was our judge, jury, and executioner. Then there is a world transforming conjunction, a “but” to reveal our transformation to a new life, all by the power of God. We had literally zero to do with it, and I will quote the full passage:

But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. 10 For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Paul could not be clearer that a resurrection from the dead is the spiritual reality of salvation. And not an escape by the hair of our chinny chin chin, but raised up to a royal position in Christ to the very right hand of God! And if Paul could not be any more explicit, he says, “and this is not from yourself.” I’ve heard people say since it’s a gift then we have the choice to accept or reject it, but nobody rejects the gift of a king. If it were because of our choice, then we would have something in which to boast. Look how smart I am; I made this choice and you didn’t. Regardless of what anyone’s theology is, everyone knows our salvation is the providential sovereign work of Almighty God. Nevertheless, Christians thinking they are making it “fair,” insist we must have the ability to accept or reject the offer. Dead people do not have that choice.

The History of a Man Centered Faith: How We Got Here
When I was a young Christian I would never have said my faith was “man centered,” but that was the implication of the theology I didn’t even know I had. I believed I was drowning in my sin, not dead in it, when God saved me. Once I became a Christian I believed that accountability implies ability, that if God commands something we have the innate ability to do it. Ever since Augustine, and even before, no Christian believed, nor did the Catholic Church teach, that we had the innate ability to obey God’s law. Despite much Protestant invective against Catholicism over the centuries, the Catholic church has never taught we can be saved by our obedience to the law. Grace is thought of differently in Catholic theology, but it is still grace.

No, the blame for a man centered faith rests at the feet the Protestants. After Luther and Calvin set the Reformation on a thoroughly Augustinian trajectory, the Arminians in the 17th century started to push back against that. They still defended the grace of God in salvation, but they had opened to door to Christians seeing salvation as primarily about our faith, our choices, our decisions, about us. Those things are of course involved, but they are only in response to the mighty resurrection power Paul talks about in chapter 1:

18 I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, 19 and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is the same as the mighty strength 20 he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms.

When Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead it was a one-way deal, as is our salvation. That deal not only saves us from God’s wrath and the guilt of sin, but also from its power in our lives, what we know as sanctification. If we are one of God’s chosen ones he came to save from our sins, that’s going to happen whether we like it or not. And since God’s law is now written on our hearts, we will like it very much.

By the time of the First Great Awakening in the mid-18th century the cracks in the providential sovereign salvation damn began to form. It would become much more apparent in the Second Great Awakening a hundred years later, but our choosing and less God’s saving power began to be emphasized. Slowly but surely the focus shifted and now it was up to us. John Wesley was the theological turning point. He despised Calvinism and decided to lose his friendship with Whitfield over it. He believed that perfect holiness was attainable for the Christian, and that meant the Christian would not commit any known sin. You can’t get much more man centered than that. Holiness in the Christian life basically came down to our will, which is a fragile piece of machinery upon which to base the Christian life.

As the 19th century developed, Wesley’s influence could be seen far outside of the fields of Methodism, the movement and denomination he essentially founded. The various strains of Evangelical Christianity that participated in the Second Great Awakening fully embraced the Wesleyan understanding of Christianity. What came to be called Revivalism embraced a salvation that turned on a person’s decision. Each human being in this understanding has “free will,” so we are able to accept or reject the offer. Out of this Awakening several strains of Wesleyan perfectionism developed known as Holiness Movements like The Higher Christian life and Victorious Christian Living. The great 19th century evangelist D.L. Moody put it perfectly: “Whatever the sin is, make up your mind that you will gain victory over it.” 

That didn’t seem to work real well for me because I was in two minds about sin, and in many ways I still am. If defeating sin is about “making up my mind,” I may as well check out before I begin. That was basically the first five years of my Christian life, and it was a constant battle against guilt and shame. Even in the late 70s and into the 80s, perfectionism was still in the Evangelical air I was breathing, and I was not pulling it off to say the least. I’m currently reading Augustine’s Confessions, and this was the battle he experienced more before he became a Christian. Whenever it happens, it’s a battle for all Christians. Paul shares the same struggle in Romans 7 and asks, “Who will rescue me from this body of death?” His answer?

25 Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!

But thanks be to God because he planned a salvation in Christ for his people that wasn’t up to us or our wills or abilities, but up to his resurrection power, and the Holy Spirit whom he would send to live in his people, as John says, to “tabernacle among them.” Our enduring faith is nothing less than God dwelling with us, in us, his people, now and forever.

The Difference Between Being a Parent and a Grandparent

The Difference Between Being a Parent and a Grandparent

I’ve thought about this a lot since we became grandparents over four years ago. As our kids were growing up and entering adulthood, I encountered people who had become grandparents tell us what’s great about being a grandparent is that you can enjoy your grandkids and then send them home. That seemed kind of hard-hearted when I heard it, or they didn’t really appreciate what they had, but I understand what they were saying now.

Raising children is a young person’s game and it’s a lot of work, especially when they’re young. Our daughter and son-in-law have three kids four and under, and it’s a challenge to say the least. My wife experiences it daily during the week as she sits the kids with our daughter who works from home. Praise God they live five minutes away and she can do that, but it’s a grind for a grandparent, even more exhausting than for the parents. It’s an incredible blessing and she loves it, but when she comes home at the end of the day the benefit of being a grandparent is obvious.

I was inspired to write this when I saw a post on Twitter/X where a guy whose children are just entering adulthood asks:

Don’t we all miss our babies? Does this feeling come back when you become a grandparent?

It depends on what feeling he’s talking about, but yes, we most certainly do miss them, which I’ll muse on below, but for us being grandparents is a completely different feeling.

I remember vividly how I felt when our daughter finally decided to make her entrance into the world after a grueling labor for my wife. I loved her instantly; it was total and complete. I had previously told my sister that I liked children and all, and looked forward to having them, but nothing prepares you for the love and emotion welling up inside you when it’s your child. My first thought through the flowing tears was, “There is a God!” It was by far the most profound thing I’d ever experienced in my 31 years of life. God is the only explanation for new life. As a Christian, knowing these feelings are in some way analogous to how God the Father feels about us, his people in Christ,  is incredibly comforting given how terribly imperfect we all are. Do we love and feel any less emotionally connected to our children because they are rotten little scoundrels sometimes? Well, I guess that depends when you ask the question, but having children teaches us unconditional love, and that is what God the Father poured out on us his children in Jesus on the cross.

But back to this-worldly realities. After a couple of days at the hospital, we were almost shocked they were letting us take her home. I thought, nobody’s coming with us? Somehow, she survived, obviously. I remember spending time just looking at her asleep in her crib and marveling. It was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen! I’d get emotional with the marvel of it all, of God giving us this little creature, of letting us co-create with him a new life on earth and for eternity. Just entirely too heavy.

Thinking about this reminds me of this passage from a book by Whitaker Chambers. He became famous in mid‑20th century Cold War America because of his association with convicted Soviet spy and American government official, Alger Hiss. In his magisterial autobiography Witness, Chambers tells the story of his life, including his conversion from atheistic communism to Christianity. The profound turning point in his journey came from something you’ll never guess: His daughter’s ear. Every parent knows how exactly he felt, even if it doesn’t lead them to Christ, which it should.

My daughter was in her highchair. I was watching her eat. She was the most miraculous thing that had ever happened in my life. I liked to watch her even when she smeared porridge on her face or dropped it meditatively on the floor. My eye came to rest on the delicate convolutions of her ear—those intricate, perfect ears. The thought passed through my mind: “No, those ears were not created by any chance coming together of atoms in nature (the Communist view). They could have been created only by immense design.” The thought was involuntary and unwanted. I crowded it out of my mind. But I never wholly forgot it or the occasion. I had to crowd it out of my mind. If I had completed it, I should have had to say: Design presupposes God. I did not then know that, at that moment, the finger of God was first laid upon my forehead.

Unless you’re a parent you have no idea what these feelings for your little children are like. It’s the purest emotional love imaginable. I see it in my daughter now as she beams when she’s with them, holding them, or even talking about them. It’s so incredibly special to see this experienced in the next generation, to relate to exactly how she’s feeling, and also, sadly, how fleeting it is.

The Depressing Passage of Time
This is another huge and inevitable difference between being a parent and a grandparent. When you’re in the middle of raising children, you have no clue how fast it goes. You catch glimpses of it, of course, but nothing prepares you for the thief that is time. It steals our lives from us once second at a time and we don’t even realize it until we find it impossible to believe. Where did it go? How did I get here so quickly? The birth of a child, as any grandparent can tell you, seems like a hundred years ago and yesterday at the same time! It’s crazy, and only those getting closer to the end than the beginning can fathom its mystery, an unsolvable one. As Augustine said, everyone knows what time is, but when asked to describe it, we’re rendered mute.

The mystery of time and its passage is an obsession with me, as anyone who knows me will tell you. After our first grandchild was conceived, I turned to my wife and said, “In the year 2,100 she’ll be 78!” and she replied, reasonably, “Can you just let her be born first?” Good point. Well, that little one is now well on her way to 2,100, and she only has 74 years to go! Be here before ya know it! Now she’s as cute as a button, an impossibly cuteness cute. It just rips your heart out. The is where parents and grandparents are on the same page. Your grandkids are clearly the most adorable on the playground; isn’t it obvious! But her already being four is a reminder of how swiftly time is moving along. Now a little girl, before you know it she’ll be a teenager, and then a grown woman. It makes our daughter sad, a common feeling among parents, maybe more for mothers than fathers.

We have neighbors who have two boys who walk to and from the bus stop every day during the school year; I’ve been watching them for six years. One morning I was outside with our grandkids while my wife stopped by the house with them on the way to the park. The youngest of the two boys and his mother were passing on the way to the bus stop, and I said to the mom, “Wow, he’s becoming a little man!” and she replied, “I know! And it makes me so sad.” Welcome to the club! You want to capture time in a bottle like Jim Croce sang, to hold on to these moments forever, but they slip away as if like a child on the playground taunting you.

I’m reminded of this every day. A couple years ago we got this thing called a Frame, which is basically a slideshow within a picture frame. As we’re walking around the house, in and out of the backyard, closing and opening the nearest window, we see on the rolling display a kind of kaleidoscope of our lives, years or decades passing as one picture slides into the next. When I see our kids as children or teenagers, the family on memorable trips, more than once I’ve turned to my wife and said, “That’s depressing.” She agrees. Even though old people, like I am now, try to warn us when we’re young how quickly it goes, to appreciate it now because before you know it . . . . , we have no idea until it happens.

Solomon in Ecclesiastes says that God has put eternity into the heart of man, which is why we get sad when we begin to realize just how fleeting life is. We want to somehow capture forever these moments in bottle, and we know we can’t: the wages of sin . . . . In that sadness we perceive something of the reality of eternal life which in this “body of death,” as Paul calls it, we can’t have. But thanks be to God! As he also says, we will have it, and one day will be, as John tells us, where there is “no more death or mourning or crying or pain” for the old order of things will have passed away, praise God! Right now, this longing for eternity, as C.S. Lewis said about all human longing and desires, implies there is something existing that will fulfill it. That sure hope is what allows us not to be consumed by our sadness, and enjoy those fleeting moments God has so graciously granted us.