“Who are you?”
“I’m a serpent— one of the creatures here. Command me as you will; I’m here to serve.”
“We have wondered why there’s this tree we’re not supposed to eat of.”
“You don’t know?”
“No, we don’t.”
“Let me tell you then. You think the Lord has your best interests at heart. You think things are pretty good. But there’s something you don’t know. He holds out on you. If you eat of this tree, you’ll be like God.”
“Isn’t that too obvious?”
“Everything is obvious. Sooner or later, He knows that He can’t hide this from you, so He makes a game of it, counting on your fear.”
“Are you like God?”
“Of course, everyone is eventually.”
“It would be great to be like God. What’s all this about being only a vessel?”
“That’s the holdout. Break through that, and you’re on your way.”
“We have wondered what it would be like to just be ourselves?”
“Yeah, that’s it; just be yourselves. Take control.”
Eve goes for it, and then Adam.
We know the story. Some things, however, cannot change: a vessel is always a vessel, and a vessel is made for one thing, to contain. And God made them to contain Him. Scientists say that nature abhors a vacuum. Therefore, once they turned away, who was going to come into the vessel? It couldn’t sit empty could it?
God did not make it to sit empty, and the vessel possesses no power to live in a self-operating or self-sustaining way. Two things happen: Satan comes in to the vessel, and then Satan hides the fact that he came into it.
The devil fuels only one way of thinking: “You can do what you want to do. You are you, and you are you only. You must get your way regardless. Everything is all about you”—a total ME-consciousness!
That’s the loneliest, most anxious, fear-filled, lust-driven condition possible. After the Fall, Adam and Eve experienced this, so what could they do to cover over their choice and get out of the terrible loneliness, fear, and dissatisfaction that filled them and began to drive them?
They turned to activity, meaning performance—anything that would mask or block out what now went on in their center, a terrible condition. So what was God to do? Did He know the Fall would occur? Well of course. Had He already made a plan for when it happened? Yes, He had. Was He surprised—taken off guard? No, He wasn’t.
Did the Fall change His plan about having fun and living in vessels as us? No, it didn’t. It meant, however, that the cost of bringing it about soared—through the roof—because the plan would need the Cross. But that was okay because that’s who He is anyway. He didn’t have to change and become the Cross. He already was.
But He would now have to manifest the Cross in order to bring about the plan. A problem loomed, though, because fallen humanity now resisted the idea of anything of sin. OH, there was and still is plenty of “Something is wrong with me.” But humanity counters it with “I can do anything if I set my mind to it.”
How would God get across to them some inkling of their true condition? This would take the law. And when the law had done its job, the Cross would provide the rescue that we all once had thought unnecessary.
Written by Brian Coatney http://briancoatney.com/