The only thing I got from the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil is a sense of my personal rights and how to be angry. A sense that God may not be wholly good. That I have the right to choose my own path. I reflected on this as I vacuumed in frustration today. Frustrated that there were crayon shavings behind the couch, that there was moon sand/playdough dried and stuck in the carpet, that the baby was trying to play with the vacuum cleaner when I just wanted to clean, when I am overwhelmed with an impossible list of tasks to do today--that all need doing TODAY. Before 6 PM. I reflected on how it was my choice to be angry about these things. But it doesn't seem like I'm choosing to be angry. I don't like being angry. [Or do I?] But my circumstances (and hence my anger) seem imposed from without...so it must be God torturing me, right? But actually, in spite of my strong feelings to the contrary, I can choose to rejoice. I actually taught Isaac this phrase in the car on the way to school this morning:
Every opportunity to be angry is also an opportunity to rejoice. --Mama
He was very pleased to have it memorized after only one hearing. Thank you, Ann Voskamp, for inspiring that little morsel. But even though I'd rather rejoice, I choose anger. The only way to escape is to find those little bits worth rejoicing about. Or big bits, actually--they just tend to seem small in the face of the injustice! I'm thankful that I have a carpet in my floor that still looks medium nice, even. I'm thankful that I have a machine that sucks the dirt out of the rug so that I don't have to. :) I'm thankful that I have a beautiful, healthy baby girl who loves to dance in the light and the wind emanating from the top of the vacuum, all the while with a great big open-mouth smile directed right on me. "We're sharing this awesome fun moment, mom!" she would say if she could speak her emotions.
So why is it so hard to choose joy? To drop anger? Would I rather live in a pre-fall (Adam and Eve fall, not autumn fall) garden type situation? Ignorant of... what.
What would I be ignorant of? There's this image of Adam & Eve that I tend to have in my mind that may be altogether wrong. Before they ate the *bad fruit* and got kicked out of Eden and got all the rest of us cursed, what were they like? A&E is one of the hardest Biblical stories for me to really buy, by the way, at least in the literal sense. Anyway, I used to imagine A&E were child-like in the wisdom department. I focused on their attributes of inexperience and gullibility and really imagined them to be pretty silly.
After reading C.S. Lewis' Perelandra, I have a different idea of what a person lacking in the knowledge of good and evil might look like: a new creature, teachable (not primitive), thoughtful, innately dignified, open to suggestion (so yes, gullible, perhaps), loving. Not distanced from the Creator! Able to walk in the garden with the Creator. This being would be capable of the full range of emotions that we know, including anger. But rather than feeling anger on one's own behalf, anger would most likely be directed on things that anger God, injustice against and harm to other parts of His creation. Would a pre-fall person feel anger on his own behalf? This kind of anger comes from feeling one's right(s) has (have) been violated. If we truly had no knowledge of good and evil, would we just trust that everything we receive, every act of God (weather, geological events, traffic jams, or what have you) is simply good? If that was the case, wouldn't we rejoice in everything that happens to us? Even if it was the result of someone else's folly or ignorance? How could we judge? It reminds me of the old Zen parable of the farmer whose horse ran away. The neighbors come to sympathize, saying, "That's bad!" but the farmer responds, "Maybe." The horse returns bringing back 2 more friends. "That's great!" the neighbors shout. The farmer says, "Maybe." One of the wild horses throws the farmer's son, and his leg is broken. And the pattern continues.
So would I like to be a pre-fall type person? In the past, I've always thought No, actually. And I still struggle on a really sub-verbal level with this whole issue. There's a sense of control that comes with feeling like I can judge what is good or not. But here is what I really think in my verbal, conscious, school-marm part of my brain: that sense of control I claim in the judging of events outside of my control is completely false. It's not there. I have no control. What I get out of judging whether something is good or evil is... I get the joy completely sucked out of me. That's what I think now. When I think before I open my angry mouth.
If you're interested in the topic, I recommend Ann Voskamp's book One Thousand Gifts. It opened my thinking a bit, and I plan to re-read it every year. It's a very Jesus-oriented perspective.
Today I'm thankful for:
* A baby who dances in the breeze of the vacuum cleaner with a great big open-mouth smile shining on me!
* A life full of purpose.
* A cup of tea in the cool artsy mug.
* Heat in my house.
* A Thanksgiving trip to see many family peeps, especially the long-time-no-see sisters!
