Why is there pain? Tim Knipp (Gen. 3:16; 4:1-2a; 4:25-26

Consequences ripple
from the apple's crunch.
Having chosen self,
the universe 
spins out of control.
Volcanic birth
is just the beginning,
the nature of families
becomes pain.



She "like God"
creates a man:
a son, Cain,
            (her heart swollen with pride).
Who knows
why Abel was an afterthought,
perhaps the effort was too much
or the gender a disappointment...
but his birth seems
inconsequential -
how quickly miracles pale.

Cain was his mother's son
and swelled up in anger
at God's reprimand -
oh, if only he 
had turned from self and sin
as God advised.

A mother's lament claws
at the heavens,
as much for the loss of Abel
as for the stained hands
that exile Cain -
both children ripped first from the womb,
and then
from her life.

Real choices lead to real
consequences.

In the years that followed,
did Eve's thoughts
return to God's words
warning her of the pain
she had chosen?

The gift of Seth,
granted by God's grace
seemed to soften her heart
and several ripples later
the people turn
and once more the universe
is righted.

Could pain be necessary -
a megaphone to my deaf ears?

It certainly does not defeat God.
Even the most atrocious,
unthinkable actions or events
 cannot thwart His purpose
or dim His love.

What happens when 
the ripples of pain
meet the tide
of grace?

Loss and Hope, Tim Knipp; Gen. 3:21; Ez, 36:34; Song of Sol. 1:15, 2:13; I Kings 6; Rev. 22:1-2

We lost a way of being
and often, 
reaching
for a presence 
that used to comfort,
touch air
and 
aching absence.

An unmet yearning
throbs
beneath the current
of life,
pulsing out
reminders 
of dislocation.
But look closely,
see the tiny thread
of golden hope
sewing up the wounds,
igniting zeal,
suggesting 
the possibility
that work may once again
satisfy;
that love might flourish
and finally
be enough;
that men and women
might stand side by side,
co-laborers in the garden.

Since our ousting,
God has pined for our presence,
his loss 
as gaping as our own.
So He turned the flaming sword
upon Himself:
willing to endure further pain,
the dissecting of His soul,
to meet with us again;
to talk face-to-face
and walk
along streets glistening
with gold
under ruby-flowered trees. 

Serpent Theology, Gen. 3; Tim Knipp

Serpent Theology, Gen. 3; Tim Knipp

Am I loved?
Is there a Creator
and if so, 
what is He like?
Is He a dictator
who denies His creations
more than He grants?
Or a benevolent
provider,
generous and wise?
Is He impersonal 
and distant,
withholding pleasure
at whim?
Or deeply concerned
and impeccably
good?
 
Caught between 
extreme perspectives,
I try to straddle both,
accepting half-truths
and half- lies,
swallowing serpent theology
like a necessary
vitamin
that chokes my faith.
The attack 
on God's character
is subtle and smooth,
keying into my deepest fears
and the 
underlying terror of
being wrong 
about His goodness.
So I bite,
and for a nano-second
am pleasure-sated,
but after,
after...
in the oh, so long afterwards
I taste the bile
of deception
and then I see:
- how capable I am of treachery,
- how poison now floods my veins,
- how stupidly I fell
      for the serpent's lie
               again.
Oh, how I need 
redemption!

You shall surely die: Genesis 3

It was a kind of death,

the opening of my eyes;

never again would I see the world

as freshly created

in breathtaking innocence –

each serrated fern frond

a message from the Maker’s

sweet scented breath.

Red-hot shame suffused

my face when

I glanced at Adam

for without being told

I knew that his nakedness

was now twisted;

the pleasure and

amazement I once felt

in gazing at his muscular

flesh now threatened to

undo me.

Covering my own nakedness –

my hips seemed grotesquely wider

than I remembered –

I cowered

and trembled at every shaking shadow;

I had never noticed that for every glimmer

of golden light

a slender darkness hugged the underside

flicking in and out with the breeze

like a slithering tongue.

Then we heard the Creator’s footsteps

and instinctively dove deeper

into the musky shadows.

I could feel Adam’s breath

hot with fear,

stuttering on my shoulder.

He called to us and Adam answered –

it's not like he had a choice –

but then Adam was pointing at me,

drawing me into beam

of the Maker’s stern gaze

and I couldn’t take it;

I panicked and

pointed to the serpent,

stretched out on a boulder,

twitching its tail in pretended innocence.

Having traced the crime

through its multiple sources,

He paused a moment

before pronouncing our sentences.

Then, in a voice more of sorrow

than anger,

He called out the snake’s inner qualities –

made them external;

if he would creep let him creep,

and then the Creator surely only pronounced

what was already forming

in my heart:

a deep hatred for the slimy beast,

and gave me permission

to act on it.

Just as I was feeling vindicated,

He turned to me

but instead of slaying me

as I deserved,

instead of annihilating my womb,

and scarring my face,

He promised me pain

that I would remember my deception,

and hunger for Adam

who would stand above me,

that I might pity

the crawling serpent

below me.

Even Adam wasn’t exempt:

his calling to work

would no longer satisfy

without exacting a harsh price

from his flesh,

and after a lifetime of toil

the only sure reward

would be this thing called death.

Silence swirled around us,

made visible in the mists

rising with the coming of dusk.

Adam and I stood, naked and

shivering, uncertain if

the worst was over.

Looking into our eyes

as if to be certain we knew

that this too, was a result of our sin,

the Creator of all things

destroyed one of His creations.

A magnificent leopard

that moments before had rubbed its

spotted head against Adam’s

dangling hand

lay sprawled before us

without breath.

Stunned, we watched the infinite care

with which our Maker

removed the animal’s skin

and

used it to clothe us.

The inert form of the

naked leopard lay

like a pale stone

as

He took us both

by the hand

and

walked us

out of the

starlit

garden.

GARDEN THEOLOGY

Unlike the trickster gods
Selfish in their guidance
He cautions for our benefit
Sets boundaries to protect us.

Trustworthy in restrictions,
Release resentment's grasping.
Relax, remembering garden words
Eat, eat! Be filled and trust Him.

Beauty Will Save the World - Tim Knipp, Gen. 2:9; 2:23;4:23;Ps. 27:4

Beauty entices
and colors our eyes,
cultivating desires
for truth
or lies.

Adam's response
to Eve
was a spontaneous
poem -
a creation
for
a creation
and
Creator.

Lamech's poem
of twisted beauty
celebrates violence
and
revenge.
Twisted beauty
perverts goodness -
a black hole
sucking viewers
into a Godless
vacuum.
Darkness must be framed,
acknowledged
and exposed.

Oh, how I long for Him
who gives me beauty
for ashes,
lavendar fireweed
on a devastated hillside.
Jesus is beauty incarnate:
storyteller,
actor,
painter,
musician
and 
scultpter.
Let me reflect Him
authentically,
with honor
and integrity
as I pursue 
exellence
and seek the 
deeper magic.

Scrub up your sense
of wonder,
walk forth 
into a world
that shouts the Creator's
heart
in every trembling leaf
and soaring cedar.