The fall of humanity.

Genesis 3.1-8.

There’s a bit of wordplay in the first verse of Genesis 3. The last verse of chapter 2 describes Adam and Eve as עֲרוּמִּ֔ים/arummím, the plural of “naked.” The first verse of chapter 3 describes the נָחָשׁ/nakháš, KJV “serpent,” which in this passage I’m gonna translate “devil,” as עָר֔וּם/arom. Really similar word. Same letters, but one different vowel sound, which is what makes the difference. Otherwise you’d think the devil was the most naked being in the wild.

Why’m I translating nakháš as “devil” instead of “serpent”? Because this is not a literal serpent. This is Satan, as the apostle John later identifies it:

Revelation 12.9 KWL

And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.

The ancients used the word’s verb-form, נָחַשׁ/nakháš—pronounced the same way—to mean “murmur an incantation,” or “practice divination,” or “foretell.” In general it had to do with superstition, and someone which dabbled in superstition would also be a nakháš, used as a noun. Whether the ancients were calling such people serpents, or whether these were originally two different words which later got mixed up, we don’t know. Either way, Genesis 3 isn’t about a literal serpent. Sure looks like it is, considering the LORD’s later curse upon that nakháš that “upon thy belly thou shalt go.” Ge 3.14 But we mustn’t take that curse literally either. I’ll explain when I get there.

Some will object to my using Revelation to interpret a Genesis passage. They figure since John wrote 15 centuries later, what does he know about the historical context of this story? Heck, did the author of Genesis even know the historical context of something which happened millennia before he wrote the book?

But I figure John wrote down what Jesus showed him, and Jesus knows exactly what this story means. So I’m still going with “devil.” If you’d rather read a translation which sticks to “serpent,” feel free.

Genesis 3.1-8 KWL

1The devil was intelligent—

more than every wild living creature

which the god YHWH made.

It said to the woman, “Did God really say,

‘Don’t you² eat from any of the garden’s trees’?”

2The woman told the devil,

“We eat of the garden’s trees’ fruit.

3Of the fruit of the tree in the middle of the garden,

God said, ‘Don’t eat from it;

don’t touch it, lest you² die.’ ”

4The devil told the woman, “You² don’t die-die.

5For God knows on the day you² eat from it,

your² eyes will open,

and you² become like gods,

knowing good and bad.”

6The woman saw the tree was good for food,

that it was desirable to the eyes,

and that it was desirable for wisdom.

She took from its fruit and ate.

She also gave it to her man with her,

and he ate.

7The eyes of the two of them were opened—

and they knew they were naked.

They sewed together fig leaves,

and made themselves loincloths.

8They heard the sound of the god YHWH

going through the garden

in the wind that day.

The human and his woman hid themselves

from the face of the god YHWH

in the middle of the garden’s trees.

As if anyone can hide from God. But Adam and Eve were young and dumb, and knew they’d massively messed things up.

Jesus’s Lazarus prayer.

John 11.41-42.

I’m going through the Lazarus story, and just before Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead, he prays. It’s an odd little prayer, and from it we can learn a bit about both Jesus and prayer. Goes like so.

John 11.41-42 KWL

41So they take away the rock

{which is at the place the dead lay},

and Jesus lifts up his eyes to the sky and says,

“Father, I give you¹ thanks that you¹ hear me.

42I knew you¹ always hear me,

but I say this because of the crowd around,

so they might believe you¹ send me.”

It’s odd because y’notice Jesus doesn’t make a prayer request. Usually when a Christian’s about to try to cure someone, or even raise the dead, they ask the Holy Spirit, “Can I do this? Can you make me able to do this? Would you cure this person? Is this your will that they be cured? Please do this.” There’s a whole lot of requesting going on. Some begging. Sometimes even some deal-making.

And Jesus does none of that. It’s only, “Thank you, Father, for hearing me. Yeah, I know you already hear me; I’m just saying this for their sake.” Gotta be honest! But in this prayer, he doesn’t ask the Father for anything. It’s solely acknowledgement the Father is here with Jesus—and the Father sent Jesus.

And then Jesus raised Lazarus.

Why doesn’t Jesus beg the Father to empower him to pull off this miracle? Because he doesn’t need to. We already know from other scriptures Jesus prayed a lot. He was all prayed up. When he tells his students elsewhere, right after he threw an evil spirit out of a boy, “This kind can come forth by nothing, but by prayer and fasting,” Mk 9.29 you notice Jesus couldn’t just start fasting right then; he had to already have a lifestyle of fasting. Same with the prayer: Jesus could start praying his head off right at that moment, but what good is that when you don’t already have a conversational relationship with your Father? And Jesus undoubtedly had that already.

So when it came time to cure Lazarus of death, Jesus didn’t need to stand before the sepulcher, lift his hands to heaven, pray for three hours, and maybe Lazarus might come forth. Jesus spent his entire life patterning every action after the Father’s will. Today was no different. And Jesus spent his entire life praying, almost constantly, often intensely, to his Father. He’d been all prayed up since childhood.

If we’re all prayed up, and we step into a situation where someone needs to be cured of illness, we don’t need to drop to our knees and beg God for hours to grant our request. We’ve already been talking to him. We already know what he wants us to do. We already know whether he’ll empower us to cure this illness or not—and if not, we don’t give the poor person false hope that God’ll cure them immediately. We just remind ’em to keep praying, like the widow in Jesus’s Persistent Widow Story.

But if so, we don’t need to pray any more than Jesus did in this situation: “Hey, Father? Thank you so much for hearing me. You always do.” Then, “In Jesus’s name, I order this illness to go away.” And it will.

Jesus is resurrection and life.

John 11.17-27.

Lazarus’s sisters Martha and Mary come up elsewhere in the gospels. It’s in a story where Mary sits at Jesus’s feet during a lesson, which was not appropriate for women in their sexist culture, and Martha tells Jesus to shoo her away and make Mary help her. But Jesus tells Martha to leave her be; that’s exactly where Mary belongs. Lk 10.38-42 As a result Christians have preached many a sermon where Martha’s the bad example, and Mary’s the good.

Although they don’t always realize why Mary’s the good. Often these sermons only talk about Mary worshiping at Jesus’s feet—as if Mary was only fangirling over Jesus while he was at the serious business of training apostles. That’s not how rabbinic lessons worked. The rabbi makes a statement; the students challenge the statement based on their bible knowledge; the rabbi defends his statement based on his bible knowledge. Those at the rabbi’s feet actively participated in this. Meaning Mary was challenging Jesus, quoting bible, and showing an intellectual capacity that impressed Jesus so much he wanted her there. Valued her there.

Generally the lessons go: Martha frets about so many things which are ultimately irrelevant, but Mary sits at Jesus’s feet. Let’s all be like Mary. Martha bad, Mary good. But no, Martha wasn’t bad—she just didn’t realize she likewise had the right to sit at the Lord’s feet, same as Mary, and learn from Jesus, instead of doing busywork like her culture expected her to.

Anyway, by the time Lazarus died, Martha apparently had learned from Jesus, ’cause she makes some of the more profound faith statements in the bible. Her faith didn’t go heave-ho after her brother died, like we see in so many people; it was strong as ever. When she met with Jesus, she didn’t scream at him about not being there to save Lazarus, as some of the lousier Jesus movies depict her. She still trusts him. She knows the Father listens to him; she still believes he can do something. She still calls him Christ, God’s son.

John 11.17-27 KWL

17So, on arriving, Jesus finds Lazarus

is already four days in the sepulcher.

18Bethany is near Jerusalem;

like 15 stadia. [2⅓ km]

19Many of the Judeans came to Martha and Mary

so they might comfort them about their brother.

20So Martha, once she hears Jesus arrives, meets him.

Mary is sitting in the house.

21So Martha says to Jesus, “Master, if you¹ were here,

my brother never would have died.

22[But] I now know whatever you¹ ask God,

God will give you.¹”

23Jesus tells her, “Your brother will rise again.”

24Martha tells him, “I know he’ll rise—

in the resurrection, on the last day.”

25Jesus tells her, “I’m the resurrection.

I’m life.

One who trusts in me, if they¹ die, will live.

26And everyone who lives and trusts in me

ought never, ever die in the age to come.

Do you¹ believe this?”

27Martha tells him, “Yes, Master.

I’ve believed you’re¹ the Christ,

God’s son coming into the world.”

Other Christians despair at their great losses, yet Martha still totally trusts Jesus. That’s huge. Let’s all be like Martha.

The text of 1 John.

My translation of 1 John.

No, not so I can have my own spin on it, or an “authoritative text” to work from; that’s not how translation works. I translate so I can study the original text in greater depth. If you translate so you can frame it to suit yourself, stop it.

Feel free to read it in other translations. Compare them to one another so you can see the translators’ consensus—and that gives you a better idea of what John meant, than simply reading one “best” translation. Then follow John as he follows Jesus; not us translators.

God is truth. So watch out for false gods.

1 John 5.18-21.

The way John’s first letter often wraps up—both in English translations, and some Greek New Testaments—is there’s a paragraph where John discusses the stuff οἴδαμεν/ídamen, “we knew,” “we have known,” or “we already know”; three verses, 18-20, which all start with ídamen. Then the last verse, 21, is a made a whole separate paragraph: “Little children, keep yourselves from idols. Amen.” 1Jn 5.21 KJV

Someone in my college Greek class pointed out this makes it sound like John was about to go into a whole new discussion, beginning with verse 21… and then he just stopped. Fell asleep while dictating, got interrupted by a young Christian with a question, had to duck out of the house because the Romans had come a-persecuting, or a page was torn off the original papyrus 1 John was written on. It looks like this was an unfinished letter.

True, it kinda does look unfinished. Most letters end with some form of farewell; usually “Everybody says hi; I look forward to seeing you again; God bless you; amen.” 1 John does not, and maybe it is an unfinished letter.

Then again, maybe John occasionally dropped things when he was done. Like he did in his gospel. It doesn’t end with “Then they preached the gospel everywhere, the Lord being with them; amen” like the Long Ending of Mark kinda does. It’s just, “Jesus did many other things, and if they were all written down the world couldn’t hold all the books.” Jn 21.25 And he’s done. There’s not even an Amen at the end, although later Christians added one, ’cause they figured it just doesn’t look right without an Amen. They did the very same thing to 1 John.

Anyway, I’m not sure John was beginning a new idea with verse 21. I think it fits just fine with the ideas in this paragraph. We already know this and that; God wants us to know the truth; now stay away from what’s false.

Or as John puts it:

1 John 5.18-21 KWL

18We already know everyone who was begotten by God

doesn’t sin.

Instead one who’s begotten by God

keeps one’s own,

and evil doesn’t touch them.¹

19We already know we’re from God,

and the whole world lies down for evil.

20We already know God’s son is present,

and gave us understanding

so we might know the truth,

and we’re in the truth,

in his son Christ Jesus.

This is the true God,

and life in the age to come.

21Children, guard yourselves²

from false gods. {Amen.}

Praying for capital and non-capital sins.

1 John 5.16-17.

In going through the Law of Moses, you’re going to notice a few of the sins listed in there are capital crimes; capital meaning “liable to the death penalty.” If an ancient Israeli committed any of those sins, the city’s judges were authorized to sentence them to death. Most of American society figures murder, rape, and treason are the only capital crimes, although way too many of us are pretty murdery and have no problem with killing people for simply being in the wrong neighborhood. Or being the wrong color.

Some years ago I read an English translation of the Septuagint. The bit which in the KJV is translated “that soul shall be cut off from his people,” Ge 17.14, Lv 7.20, Nu 15.30 which we usually interpret to mean ostracizing them from society or banishment, got translated, “that soul shall be utterly destroyed from among his people”—emphasis mine. That certainly doesn’t mean banishment; that means death. I checked the original languages, and yep, the Greek says ἀπολεῖται/apoleíti, “will be destroyed.” But the Hebrew has נִכְרְתָ֛ה/nikhrétha, “must be cut off,” which doesn’t necessarily mean death; it can mean, as we usually mean, banishment. Considering how excessive death appears to be for these crimes, you can see why most of us think it only means banishment.

But clearly the ancient Jews who translated the Septuagint disagreed. They regularly interpreted “cut off” to mean death—which means they saw far more sins as capital crimes. So… having sex with a woman on her period was a capital crime. Lv 20.18 Skipping Passover would be a capital crime. Nu 9.13 Yikes. Good thing the Romans didn’t let the Judeans practice the death penalty!

Because of injustice—like the obvious injustice of Christ Jesus getting sentenced to death and crucified—a number of Christians believe there shouldn’t be any death penalty; our governments clearly can’t be trusted to apply it fairly. Roman Catholics, Quakers, and Anabaptists are decidedly against it. Other sects of Christendom have no problem with it, and their members gleefully reflect the popular culture’s attitudes about executing criminals.

Me, I believe some crimes certainly merit the death penalty… but I also firmly believe in grace, and believe it’s wholly inappropriate to execute a repentant sinner who wants to try to make restitution for their crimes. And I likewise don’t trust the government to execute people fairly. Time and again, people have been found to be falsely accused, unjustly imprisoned, and sometimes unjustly executed. There should be fewer executions, not more. But because of the many bloodthirsty Christianists in this country, some states are most definitely pushing for more.

But enough about them. The apostle John lived in the Roman Empire, where the death penalty was regularly enacted by the Romans. Beheading for their citizens; crucifixion for everyone else. Hence Paul was beheaded and Simon Peter crucified during the Neronian persecution (64–68CE). John himself was exiled, which is how he ended up on Patmos, having visions of the End. Rv 1.9 Their crime, of course, was being Christian; the Romans considered “disturbing the peace” a capital crime, and anything could be labeled “disturbing the peace” if they so chose.

I bring up capital crimes because John brings up capital crimes in today’s passages. Or, as he puts it, an ἁμαρτία πρὸς θάνατον/amartía pros thánaton, “sin unto death.” Roman Catholics have extrapolated this verse into their idea of deadly sins, but no, John is not talking about lechery, gluttony, greed, laziness, wrath, envy, and pride. He’s talking about sins where the legal consequence is the death penalty.

And, in context, he’s talking about boldness in prayer—in being able to come to our Father with our requests, and knowing our Father hears us. And in this passage, fellow Christians whom they can pray for. If they’re committing non-capital sins, go ahead and pray for them. If they’re committing capital sins… well, John’s not talking about that today. I’ll quote him, shall I?

1 John 5.16-17 KWL

16When anyone sees their¹ fellow Christian

sinning a non-capital sin,

one will ask

and God will give them¹ life—

to the one sinning a non-capital sin.

There is such a thing as capital sin;

I don’t say one should pray about that.

17Everything unjust is sin,

and sin which isn’t capital.

Boldness in prayer. ’Cause God’s listening.

1 John 5.13-15.

We Christians can get mighty bold when we approach God. As we should; we’re his kids, and our relationship with him is not a dysfunctional one, where every prayer request has some sort of quid-pro-quo God expects of us in return. True, it can definitely be dysfunctional on our part, where we’ll take God’s grace for granted. And some of us might think God does expect to make some deal with us before he’ll grant requests. But really, none of the dysfunction comes from God’s side. We’re encouraged to “come boldly unto the throne of grace,” He 4.16 and ask God for anything.

And one of the reasons John wrote his first letter was to remind his readers of this:

1 John 5.13-15 KWL

13I write you² these things

so you² might fully know

you² have life in the age to come,

granted to believers

in the name of God’s son.

14This is the boldness we have towards God:

When any of us ask according to his will,

he hears us.

15And when we know God hears us,

whatever we might ask him,

we fully know we have

the request which we asked of him.

The word παρρησία/parrisía in verse 14 is regularly translated “boldness,” and actually stems from the phrase πάς ῥῆσις/pas rhísis, “every [sort of] speech.” The sense is we Christians are able to say anything to God. Anything. Again, he’s our Father.

I used to shock people from time to time by talking to God as if I’m talking to anyone else; as if I’m talking to my dad. Which he is, after all; it shouldn’t shock people. Yet it does. Too many Christians are only comfortable with approaching God formally—with a built-in social distance between them and him, because he’s holy and they’re not. They don’t realize by adopting us as his kids, God’s made us holy too. We just have to act holy, for once—and stop mixing up solemnity or religiosity with holiness, ’cause that’s not what it means.

Anyway they think God should only be approached in a regal manner, with formal titles; he’s “thee,” not “you.” Lots of self-abasement, lots of special Christianese, lots of effort made to create a gap between us and our Father, and in so doing, undo everything Jesus came to earth to do. Jesus came to bring God near. But if you don’t understand what Jesus is all about, of course you’ll be happy to keep him far.