"You will not surely die," the serpent said to the woman. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil
- Gen 3:4-5

We had it good.  Were able to walk in the garden; naked.  With a hot wife.  Were able to name the animals.  God was close by.  The best of all - we had no idea what evil was. We didn’t know what it was like to hurt someone or be hurt. We didn’t know about hate, dishonesty, murder, molestation, anger, depression, stress, worry, misunderstandings, bitterness, loneliness.  We knew nothing but good.  Evil?  What is that?

And it all changed in an instant.  God had protected us from knowing what he already knew.  There were things that he knew and that he had to keep from us for our own good.  Why did we think we had to know everything?

More times than not, Steph and I will be having a semi-private conversation.  I say "semi-private" because we are around my daughters, maybe riding in the car.

Madison will usually jump in,  "What are you talking about?" 

We always reply "Nothing.  It is not important for you to know."

"But I want to know."

Isn’t that just like us?  We always want to know.  We want to know everything about everything.  When it comes to God, we want to know it all.  Truth is, knowing it all sometimes gets us in trouble.  We have to trust that God is revealing to us exactly what we need to know, when we need to know it.  We didn’t need to know about good and evil, but we just had to know, and have been paying for it ever since.

God, I trust you, I get frustrated sometimes, but I trust you.  I want to know things.  I want to know a lot of things.  Sometimes it seems that you are very quite.  I don’t like that, but I wonder if I would like the knowing even less.  Thanks for protecting me from what I do not need to know.

Jesus said, “My friend, go ahead and do what you have come for.
- Mt 26: 50

Judas had just betrayed Jesus. He sold the son of God for money. He proved that he could be bought. He knew what he was doing. He know that his whole life he had built up the character to do such a thing. He kissed God. He walked up and kissed him. A kiss of betrayal. He was part of bringing death to the Son of God. He walked with him and saw everything Jesus did. He saw the miracles, he heard the teaching, he knew he was in the presence of greatness. Could there be a higher form of betrayal?

The response of Jesus?

He looks at him and says “My Friend . . . .”

In the height of betrayal, Jesus called him “friend.” What depth of grace is this? Who else could show this love and mercy? Who would call a betrayer “friend”?

I betray God on a daily basis. Maybe I don’t sell him out and kill him, but I find myself betraying God with words, thoughts, actions, and deeds. When I quiet myself I realize that I am the betrayer. Yet somehow at the height of my betrayal, he calls me “friend.”

What kind of God is this?