Category: Theology

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Westminster Confession Conference

By Jim Spiegel

Last month I attended the annual Westminster Confession Conference at Providence Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The conference theme was “The Last Things: On the State of Man After Death” and featured Reformed Presbyterian Theological Seminary professors Richard Gamble Jeffrey Stivason, David Whitla, and C. J. Williams, as well as Pastor of Gospel Fellowship Presbyterian Church, Matthew Everhard. The conference was hosted by RPTS.

While there are some theological issues that Christians struggle to find relevant, personal eschatology is not one of them. We are all going to die, some of us sooner than we expect. So we should all take a serious interest in the topic. As Scripture says, “Death is the destiny of every man. The living should take this to heart.” (Eccl. 7:2).

The speakers at the Westminster Conference covered a range of issues in a way that showcased their areas of scholarly expertise. Below is my summary.

David Whitla, “Wariston on Death: Griefs Observed in the Diary of a Scottish Covenanter”

Church historian David Whitla kicked off the proceedings with an interesting talk entitled “Wariston on Death: Griefs Observed in the Diary of a Scottish Covenanter,” which focused on the 17th century Scottish Presbyterian Covenanter and member of the Westminster Assembly, Archibald Johnston, who was eventually honored with the title Lord Wariston.

Whitla’s talk explored Wariston’s theology of death, his experiences of death, and his preparation for death. Whitla noted how Wariston’s hopeful eschatological convictions were tested to the extreme in his personal life, as he experienced the death of his first wife (after just eight months of marriage), the death of six children that he fathered with his second wife, and the death of numerous other family members and friends—experiences which deeply informed his perspective on life and enhanced his preparation for his own death.

Wariston was arrested for anti-Royalist activities. His captors tried to kill him by draining his blood and poisoning him. But he survived and was shipped back to England, convicted of treason, and sentenced to death. He was actually cheerful on the day of his execution, facing death with purpose and confidence and praying for many people before he died. With the noose around his neck Wariston said, “I beseech you all, people of God, not to shrink at suffering . . .” Then he said to the executor, “Are you ready?”

Among Whitla’s applications were that Wariston’s story teaches us that our theology of death may inform our experience of death. It illustrates how the grace of God helps us through life’s sorrows and enables us to die well ourselves.

Matthew Everhard, “What Happens Five Seconds After You Die?

The next talk, delivered by Pastor Matthew Everhard, was “What Happens Five Seconds After You Die? The Doctrine of the Intermediate State.” Using Philippians 1:19-30 as his launching point, Everhard began by posing the basic question, What is the intermediate state? The answer is that this is the condition between one’s earthly life and the resurrection of the dead that comes after Christ’s return. He went on to make the critical observation that this passage teaches the dichotomous perspective on human nature. Human beings are composed of a body and soul. Reformed theologians reject the trichotomous view (which makes a further distinction between soul and spirit). And what is the soul? It is the living essence of the person which accounts for their will, consciousness, perceptual capacities, etc.

What happens to the body after you die? Everhard broke it down like this. Five seconds after you die, your soul departs from your body. After five minutes, the body begins to decay. After five hours, the body enters rigormortis. After five days, the body bloats. Five weeks after this, the skin is dissolving. Five months later, the body has all but decayed, leaving mostly bones. Five years later, the bones are deteriorating. This all confirms the biblical idea that we go from dust to dust.

What happens to the soul? Our soul goes immediately to God. No purgatory. No soul sleep. Directly to God. As the Apostle Paul says, “to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.” (2 Cor. 5:8). This is also confirmed in the account of the death of Stephen in the book of Acts and in Jesus’ remark to the thief on the cross, “today you will be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:43).

Everhard also addressed a few other questions along the way that are a bit more challenging, including, Are those who die ahead of us aware of us in heaven? If so, to what extent? And what are we to say about the many near death experiences that are the subject of much recent study? As for the former question, says Everhard, Revelation 5:11 suggests that those in heaven are indeed aware of us, as this passage reports that saints in heaven are crying out to God for justice on earth, saying, “how long?” And the writer of Hebrews refers to our having a “great cloud of witnesses” (Heb. 12:1). As for near death experiences, Everhard observed that there does seem to be a lot of confirmation of biblical truth in many of these accounts. As someone who is pretty well-studied on the NDE phenomenon, I would say Everhard is quite right on this score.

Richard Gamble, “There is No Escape!”

Systematic Theologian Richard Gamble’s talk was entitled “There is No Escape!” He discussed three main themes: Christ’s bodily resurrection, our bodily resurrection, and the last judgment. Among the important biblical themes regarding Christ’s resurrection are the facts that it is a provable historical event, that Christ’s resurrection body was a significantly changed body, that his resurrection was achieved through divine power, that his resurrection is a divine vindication and foundation of our justification before God, that Christ’s resurrection provides assurance of our final redemption, and that Christ’s resurrection is essential to our thinking about the kingdom of God.

As for the resurrection of our bodies, Gamble noted that this is confirmed in multiple places in both the Old and New Testament (e.g., Gen. 5:24; 1 Kings 17:17-24; Job 19:25-27; Mt. 12:40; 1 Cor. 15:13-20; John 3:1-15), which is why all of the creeds and confessions affirm the resurrection of the body. Among the important features of our own bodily resurrection are the facts that our mortal bodies are perishable but our resurrection bodies are not (1 Cor. 35-58) and our bodies will be completely liberated from corruption by sin, as with the rest of creation (Rom. 8:21).

As for the last judgment, this is described by Paul in 2 Thessalonians 1:5-10. Among other things, Paul notes that God will judge persecutors and oppressors; he will repay with afflictions those who afflict us. And, as Malachi says, “all the arrogant and evil doers will be roasted like stubble” (Micah 1:4). And from the destruction that comes with this divine judgment of the wicked, there is no escape.

Gamble observed that God wants to stir us up in the hope that final divine judgment will come. Knowing God is a righteous judge will encourage us, knowing that all of this wickedness will be judged and condemned. At the last day, God will pour out his glory upon us, those who have obeyed his Gospel. All of this will be preceded by Christ’s return, the date of which we do not know. In the meantime, we must be ever alert and soberly watchful.

Jeffrey Stivason, “B. B. Warfield: Hell on the Cross”

In this lecture “B. B. Warfield: Hell on the Cross,” New Testament scholar Jeffrey Stivason discussed several aspects of the doctrine of hell. He raised the question why Jesus had to suffer the punishment of hell for us and cited Anselm’s reasoning in response—that there must be satisfaction when God’s honor is defaced. Stivason noted that Protestants typically regard this as part of the reason for God’s wrath but explained that it goes beyond this. The seriousness of a debt or wrong is relative to the person wronged, which Stivason illustrated by saying that lying to a court judge is worse than lying to one’s wife.

A further question: Jesus only suffered for a few days at most in hell. How could that atone for the sins I committed that warrant eternal torment? To answer this, Stivason said we need to back up and ask, what is hell? Here he appealed to insights from B. B. Warfield in answering this question, beginning with the concept of the pecuniary aspect of hell. According to Warfield’s account, in our fallenness, human beings have a debt that must be paid. There are several biblical passages that suggest Christ’s crucifixion is a payment of sin. Scripture tells us that Jesus gave himself as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45), that we were bought with a price (1 Cor. 6:20), that the church was purchased with Christ’s own blood (Acts 20:28), and that Christians are “ransomed” by Christ’s blood (1 Pet. 1:13-19).

So the cross is a satisfaction of God’s wrath, not just a display of divine deliverance or expression of love. How do we understand the debt and how it must be paid? Analogically in terms of obligation and liability. Here Stivason brings in the analysis of Reformed theologian Geerhardus Vos. On Vos’s account, the rebellion against God is an infinite infraction, so the debt paid must be of equal value. The infinitude of Christ’s payment consists in his dignity or worth. He is infinite, so his suffering counts as an infinite payment. Christ’s suffering has the same value in the sight of God as our infinite suffering, hence its sufficiency to pay the debt we owe.

C. J. Williams, “Glorification: The Last Link in the Golden Chain”

The conference concluded with Old Testament scholar C. J. Williams’ talk, “Glorification: The Last Link in the Golden Chain.” Williams began by noting that the Bible describes our eternal glory as unspeakable and indescribable. So how are we even to think about this?

We are encouraged in Scripture to think about the matter, after all. And the Bible does give some information about what our heavenly glory involves. This is summarized in the Westminster Catechism question 90, as follows: We will be “made perfectly holy and happy both in body and soul, in the company of unnumerable saints and holy angels, but especially in the immediate vision and fruition of God the father, our Lord Jesus Christ, and of the Holy Spirit, to all eternity.”

Williams went on to expound on the main themes of this statement. First, we will be fully and forever free from all sin and misery and filled with inconceivable joys. We won’t just be restrained from sin but our natures will be transformed so we have no inclination in a sinful direction. We will be neither able nor willing to sin. We will be free from all suffering that characterizes this world. He will wipe away every tear (Rev. 21:4). Also, heaven is not a place of merely conceivable joys but also of inconceivable joys. As the apostle Paul says, “eye has not seen nor has ear heard the things that God has prepared for those who love him” (1 Cor. 2:9).

Secondly, we will be made perfectly holy and happy both in body and soul. Our physical existence will not be ended but will be transformed, such that we will have spiritual bodies, fully activated with the experience of God. This will not be a state of static contemplation but active enjoyment of God. The Lord’s servants will serve God. So the glorified condition is an active one (cf. Rev. 7 and 22). The prophet Isaiah pictures the perfected state as involving building houses and tending gardens (Isa. 65). And Isaiah 25 and Revelation 19 both picture a banquet and feast. These images suggest there will be a genuine continuity between our lives here and our lives there.

Thirdly, our heavenly state will be in the company of innumerable saints and holy angels. This reminds us of the vastness of God’s kingdom. Our fellowship with others is one of the great blessings of our glorification. Our fellowship with others will enhance our fellowship with Christ.

We will have the blessing of getting to know those who came before us. Drawing on the thought of Puritan theologian Thomas Watson, Williams suggested that our knowledge in heaven will not be diminished but increased, which implies we will deeply know one another and be “delighted in each other’s company.” We will be united with Christ but this does not mean that our relationships on earth will be discontinued. These will continue, but the true joy of glory will not be anthropocentric but rather theocentric, which leads to the final point.

Fourthly, we will live forever in the glorious presence of God the Father, the Lord Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. Scripture promises us that God’s servants will see his face (Rev. 22:4), that we will see him as he is (John 3:2). This is not abstract contemplation but rather a personal, transformative union. Here, again, the Puritans had much to say. Thomas Watson said regarding the beatific vision that we shall behold the glorified body of Christ; “God’s infinite majesty shall overwhelm us.” John Owen claimed that when we behold the glorified Christ we will experience our fullest union with the triune God. Williams noted that the promise of seeing the glory of God should motivate us to serve him well. As Richard Baxter put it, we should live here as if we are in “the suburbs of heaven.”

Overall, the Westminster Confession Conference was a refreshing time of theological reflection on several dimensions of personal eschatology and an powerful exhortation to seriously consider our destiny as mortals in this world in the light of God’s justice and mercy.

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The Destiny of Everyone

By Jim Spiegel

British author and statesman Horace Walpole reputedly said that life is a comedy to those who think and a tragedy to those who feel. I have personally concluded that life is a tragicomedy—both at the individual level and human history is a whole.

“Under the sun,” as Qoheleth, the writer of Ecclesiastes, would say, you really can’t win. If you are fortunate enough to live a long life, then this guarantees you are also destined to experience the death of many close friends and loved ones and will be subjected to the slow deterioration of your body and mind before passing away.

I have reached my 60s, and have lost many friends and loved ones in a variety of distressing ways: accidents, diseases, murder, and suicide. The latter has been the saddest and most difficult of all to cope with, because it compounds the sorrow of loss with so many other negative emotions, often including anger and disappointment with the loved one who made such a devastating choice. It is also a stinging reminder of how hard this world is for everyone. Many of us have considered suicide even if we haven’t attempted it. Even the most happy and flourishing human life on this planet is marked with much sadness and difficulty. As Scripture says, “man is born to trouble as surely as sparks fly upward” (Job 5:7).

Of course, we have hope—Gospel hope. Christ has conquered death. And if we bind ourselves closely to him, we will ride his resurrection to our own resurrection glory. But that doesn’t remove all of the agony of this realm. It is all still a tragic comedy. That the God-man himself was a “man of sorrows” (Isa. 53:3) who suffered and died in the most ignominious and disgusting of ways is a stark reminder of this fact.

It appears that God has ordered this cursed realm in such a way as to force us to one of two extremes: utter despair or transcendent Hope. All of the suffering and death simply rules out naïve optimism. Yes, there are those who coldly say, “life is just hard; deal with it” and go about their business with few tears or ringing of hands in existential angst. But that attitude is itself a masked form of despair.

The choice of despair—and yes, for many it is a choice—is a surrender to tragic sadness, a decision to reject Hope and ultimate joy. Put in those terms, it might seem strange that so many people choose to surrender to despair. But it is because the alternative—the choice for Hope—is itself so hard to make, since it requires self-denial to the extreme—e.g., forgiving others unconditionally and abiding by the Golden Rule, etc. No one likes this. In fact, self-denial goes against fallen human nature; it is a wonder that any of us manage to pull it off. I suppose it is a sort of moral miracle, given the natural human tendency to pride and selfishness.

Whenever a loved one dies, and we gather together to quietly mourn. hug, cry, share stories, etc., we experience a communal helplessness that emphatically declares what a pathetic lot we really are. We are in desperate need of hope. That is a fundamental human fact. In the ordinary course of daily life, we tend to forget or ignore this. But death forces us to pay attention. As Qoheleth, says, “death is the destiny of everyone; the living should take it to heart” (Eccl. 7:2).

Those who do pay close attention, who dwell upon the reality of death more than most, are sometimes called morbid. And surely there is a potential vice here—that of dwelling on aspects of death for the sake of entertainment. That is clearly not the sort of attitude the Qoheleth is getting at. It is the inevitability of death and its final existential implications for us—that is what we should be taking to heart. You will die one day, perhaps very soon. Then your permanent reality begins. That certainly is something to take to heart and mindfully prepare for, however healthy or youthful you might happen to be right now.

So let us pay close attention, and I believe that if we do, and we embrace gospel hope, including all of its implications for self-denial, it is precisely then that death loses some of its sting and we can rejoice that life in this world is not a pure tragedy.

I conclude with these song lyrics that I wrote a few years ago while trying to heed Qoheleth’s counsel:

Dear Death, you dress for all occasions. / From the fog of war to sunny days with children playing. / Whether we’re doing our worst or best, / You’re always an unwelcomed guest / Who declares just how long we are staying.

Dear Death, somewhere in your dark eyes / Is the true confession of every human lie. / In search of greater powers, / We took what was not ours / And made a prison out of Paradise.

Dear Death, your presence feels more like a void, / Whenever we dwell upon what you’ve destroyed. / Every soothing friendship lost, / Every deep love double-crossed / Reminds us of the one thing we can’t avoid.

Dear Death, you cast a shadow cruel and long. / You’ve made a home in every place you don’t belong. / Even a young mother’s womb / You turn into a tomb /And somehow haunt the most joyous song.

Dear Death, I suppose it is not by chance / That even Jesus Christ asked you to dance. / There in that simple waltz / He made true what once was false / And welcomed us into a great romance.

Dear Death, is that your cold hand on my shoulder? / With each day it seems your overtures grow bolder. / But the music continues to play, / And it is a solace to say, / One day, yes, even you will not grow older.

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Making an Enemy of Satan

By Jim Spiegel

As Christians, we believe that Satan is not only real but the enemy of our souls. This is a clear teaching of Scripture. The Apostle Paul tells us to “put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes” (Eph. 6:11). And Peter says, “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Pet. 5:8). So Satan and other demonic forces are real. They despise us. And they actively seek, and often succeed in causing, our harm.

Many times when going through a severe trial that obviously involves spiritual warfare, I have found myself thinking along these lines: “What did I ever do to these dark entities to warrant their hatred? I have never done anything to harm Satan and his imps. So why do they hate me so much?”

Perhaps you have had the same thought. If not, then at least you now have this thought.  And perhaps you understand my perplexity. But there is a good explanation, which can be summed up as follows.

    • Demonic beings are evil and hate what is good, especially He who is most holy—God.
    • To follow Jesus is to befriend him and join forces with the holy God.
    • To join forces with the holy is to make an enemy of Satan and work against him.
    • To work against Satan is to make him your enemy.
    • To make an enemy of Satan is to elicit attacks from his forces. Such attacks are often painful, frightening, and even devastating. But it’s part of the deal.

So, Christian, are you ready and willing to be an enemy of Satan? Well, actually, that’s a silly question. If you are truly following Christ, you already are.

This, of course, means that, as a Christian, you should expect to suffer. And this is why Jesus tells us we must “take up the cross” and follow him. His suffering, culminating in crucifixion, was a direct and devastating demonic attack. As his children, should we expect anything different? No, we should not. The Scriptures are clear about this. Peter says, “If you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is commendable before God. To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.” (1 Pet. 2:20-21). And Paul writes, “To you it has been granted for Christ’s sake, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake.” (Phil. 1:29).

But what is the use of all of our suffering? Didn’t Jesus do all of that for us? Why must we suffer as well? In short, to share in his glory. Yes, it is a staggeringly wonderful thought. But, again, the biblical writers are clear on this. Paul says, “The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, heirs also, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him so that we may also be glorified with Him.” (Rom. 8:16-17). Elsewhere, he writes, “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection of the dead.” (Phil. 3:10-11). And Peter tells us to “rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed.” (1 Pet. 4:13)

Not only this, but we are guaranteed to become better through our suffering. As James says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,  whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:2-4)

The true follower of Jesus must suffer. If you are a friend of Jesus you are an enemy of Satan and will be targeted by him. But this only binds you closer to Jesus and will make you better. So your suffering with him means you will share in his glory and be more like him. Again, it is part of the deal—a mind-blowingly wonderful deal.

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Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting

By Amy Spiegel

Years ago, my dad sent me S. M. Lockridge’s famous sermon, It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming. Over time, this has become shorthand between us. Facing hard times? “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming.” Frustrated with seemingly unanswered prayers? “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming.” It always brings a smile to our faces, but also encouragement and solace as we remember the deep well of comfort Lockridge’s words bring.

If you are unfamiliar with this sermon, it paints a picture of the devastating events of the Friday of Jesus’ betrayal, arrest and crucifixion. The disciples’ abandonment, the accusations of the crowd, the beatings of the Romans. In his beautiful preacher’s voice and cadence, Lockridge layers despair upon despair, until you can practically feel the weight of Jesus’ exhaustion and grief. But he ends each layer with the refrain “Sunday’s coming.”

This week, while discussing a difficult situation with my folks and sister, I threw out the well-worn line and then quipped, “What about poor Saturday? Nobody ever talks about poor Saturday.” I was thinking about “poor Saturday” during the Good Friday service I attended today. Friday gets to be good, Sunday gets TWO names (Palm and Resurrection), but poor Saturday. Nothing. The wallflower of Easter; always a bridesmaid, never the bride.

It seems very human to focus on the dramatic events of Friday and Sunday and not give Saturday another thought. We do this with the events of our own lives as well. We want to rush past the middle of the drama and skip to the part where everything works out, we get the job, the test comes back negative, etc.

But just for a moment, let’s think about that Saturday. Jesus was dead, so was Judas. The disciples were terrified and without a leader. Peter, I’m sure, was trying not to buckle under the grief and shame of his denials, the bitter tears still hanging in his beard. The women were preparing for Sunday. Not preparing to celebrate with plastic grass and Cadbury eggs. They were preparing to perform as ancient world morticians. To wash away the blood and sweat, cover the stink of death and decay with spices and ointments. Grief and confusion were hanging in the air.

Sure, there had been miraculous signs: unnatural darkness, an earthquake, split rocks, and the Temple’s torn curtain. These are hardly signs to lighten the mood. Tombs were opened and loved ones brought back to life, but this is cold comfort for those whose Hope has just died, naked and crying out to God. At one time, this Hope, this man, had seemed so favored. Heaven had opened, and the Spirit descended on Him while He was proclaimed to be God’s beloved Son.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes Fridays are easier to navigate than Saturdays. During Fridays, I am on high alert, rallying the troops for prayer, seeking wisdom in Scripture and looking for God’s direction. A season of crisis and drama can put me in “hero mode,” at least of a little while. But when the crisis is prolonged, or worse, when it feels like all hope is lost, the tomb of Hope is sealed and guarded, I have a tendency to retreat to habits of consultation, seeking solace in distraction and a good dose of carbohydrates.

But distraction doesn’t prepare me for Sunday. How can I worship if I’m not waiting for the dawn of God’s glory? The women honored to be the first witnesses of Jesus’ resurrection did so because they spent Saturday preparing. Let us do the same. Let us resist the despair of waiting. Let us refuse distraction and the bitterness of unfulfilled expectations. In the words of musical theologian Elton John, “Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting.” So let us fight the good fight on Saturday. After all, Sunday’s coming.

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Time Waits for No One

By Jim Spiegel

I enjoy watching enhanced, colorized versions of very old videos like this and this and this.

They provide a healthy dose of perspective—a reminder that our time on this planet goes by very quickly. One day you are young and, before you know it, you are gone.

The flight of time and the human mutability it entails is a timeless theme in literature and music. I was first struck by this theme as a young teenager listening to the Rolling Stones song “Time Waits for No One.” While not renowned for tackling serious themes in their songs, much less in a profoundly poetic way, this one really got my attention:

Star-crossed in pleasure
The stream flows on by.
Yes, as we’re sated in leisure
We watch it fly.

Time waits for no one, and it won’t wait for me.

Time can tear down a building
Or destroy a woman’s face.
Hours are like diamonds.
Don’t let them waste.

Time waits for no one
No favors has he.
Time waits for no one
And it won’t wait for me.

Men, they build towers to their passing
Yes, to their fame everlasting.
Here he comes chopping and reaping.
Hear him laugh at their cheating.

And time waits for no man
And it won’t wait for me.
Yes, time waits for no one
And it won’t wait for me.

Drink in your summer.
Gather your corn.
The dreams of the night time
Will vanish by dawn.

But time waits for no one,
And it won’t wait for me.

This song’s message grows only more powerful as the years roll on. For the two young men who composed it, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, are now in their mid-80s.

A much older and far more influential song conveys the same message in the form of a prayer:

Show me, Lord, my life’s end
and the number of my days;
let me know how fleeting my life is.

You have made my days a mere handbreadth;
the span of my years is as nothing before you.
Everyone is but a breath,
even those who seem secure.

This song, now known as Psalm 39, was written 3000 years ago by David, King of Israel. He, too, was once young and seemingly invincible, but time didn’t wait for him either.

Nor will it wait for us. The lesson? David’s son, Solomon, summed it up well when he said,

Death is the destiny of everyone;
the living should take this to heart. (Eccl. 7:2)

That same writer, Qoheleth, concluded that book by declaring,

Now all has been heard;
here is the conclusion of the matter:
Fear God and keep his commandments,
for this is the duty of all mankind.
For God will bring every deed into judgment,
including every hidden thing,
whether it is good or evil. (Eccl. 12:13-14)

Although our lives fly by, the way we live while we are here does have eternal ramifications. If ever there was incentive to take seriously one’s pursuit of the Good, this is it.

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Intellectual Molting: Shedding the Dead Theological Skin of Poor Concepts of God

By Jim Spiegel

I know a young man who is struggling with his faith. Not in the sense that he’s questioning the reality of God. Rather, he seems to be calling into question the adequacy of his particular concept of God, which is proving to be too small as his educational journey is stretching his mind. This is a common experience for young Christian college students, whose intellectual discoveries often apply pressure on the concept of God with which they have operated since childhood. I call it intellectual molting—the shedding of rigid or narrow rational categories when one’s intellect outgrows them in the educational process.

For those who experience this in an unhealthy academic context (e.g., one that is primarily agnostic, atheistic, rigidly fundamentalist, or otherwise hostile to nuanced religious commitment), the turn to religious skepticism or cynicism is a common result. In such cases, it is not only the “old skin” of a small God concept that is thrown off. Belief in God itself may be tossed away. But in a community context that is friendly to faith-infused academic inquiry, one’s God concept is more likely to be adjusted “upward.” The dry, grey, dead skin of outworn theological categories is displaced by the emergence of rich, healthy colors of more robust, biblically orthodox categories.

Former President of Taylor University, Jay Kesler, used to say that when a student told him “I no longer believe in God,” he would reply, “Well, tell me what kind of ‘God’ you no longer believe in, and maybe I don’t believe in him either.” This reply is not only disarming. It is also true.

There are many falsely rigid or distorting God concepts that severely limit or even ultimately kill faith. To the extent one nurses these concepts, one’s faith will either die or remain stunted. A vibrant, biblical faith will survive only to the extent that one’s concept of God expands to properly biblical proportions.

The need for theological category molting is often manifest in the sorts of questions one asks, such as:

    • “Why does God exist?”
    • “What if God stops existing?”
    • “Does God know what is happening to me?”
    • “What if he is unable to fix my situation?”
    • “What if God decides not to forgive us?”

Such are the sorts of questions I have been asked over the years that are indicative of a small concept of God

The first two questions reveals a failure to understand that God is self-existent. (See Exod. 3:14; Ps. 90:2; John 5:26.) He is not the sort of being that depends on other things to exist. Any given tree, rock, human, planet, or quasar is contingent and may or may not have existed. In fact, at one time in the distant past (~14.2 billion years ago) the entire cosmos did not exist. Then it came into existence. But God never came into existence. Not only has he always existed, his existence is metaphysically necessary. He could never not have existed. In this way, God is fundamentally different than anything in the physical world. He is not just another being. God is unique in his self-existence. He is, in the most absolute metaphysical sense, one of a kind.

The third question reveals a failure to grasp divine omniscience: God knows all things—past, present, and future. (See Ps. 139:1-6; 1 John 3:20; Isa. 46:9-10.) This means God transcends time and space. The omniscient divine mind is constantly aware of everything all at once. If this is mind-boggling, it should be. Even if we only grant that God pays attention to every human prayer, we land in something inconceivable. It is estimated that there are about 6.5 billion prayers offered every day by human beings on this planet. If the average length of those prayers is about ten seconds, then (assuming my math is correct) at any given moment God is listening to about 752,000 prayers. Have you ever tried paying attention to just two people talking at once? It is overwhelming. What kind of mind can pay careful attention to hundreds of thousands of people simultaneously?! And given the size of the cosmos, this is just the beginning of divine omniscience.

The fourth question reveals a failure to understand that God is infinite in power. That is, God is omnipotent. (See Jer. 32:17; Ps. 115:3; Matt. 19:26; Luke 1:37.) He not only can do all things (that are logically possible), he actually experiences no resistance in achieving his ends. That is, although fallen beings often strive to resist God, since his power is absolute, there is no exhaustion or difficulty of divine effort in thwarting them. Infinite power can never be the least bit diminished.

Finally, the fifth question, about God changing his mind, reveals a failure to understand divine immutability. (See Num. 23:19; Mal. 3:6; Heb. 13:8; James 1:17.) The essence of God does not and cannot change. And this includes his moral character, which is what is at stake when it comes to God keeping his promises, whether for forgiveness of sin or anything else. Divine immutability is guaranteed by the perfection of God. If God’s character changed, such change would be for the better or worse. If for the better, then God was imperfect to begin with, which is absurd. If for the worse, then God would have become imperfect, which again is absurd. So God must be eternally, immutably perfect, which means his promises will all be fulfilled and his resolve to forgive all of his children who submit to him in obedient faith will never be revoked.

These are the divine attributes that many young (and some older) Christians fail to properly understand. This is sad, because lacking this robust, biblically orthodox concept of God will, one way or another, be manifested in doubts, anxieties, or difficulties in trusting the promises of God. So if you have chronic struggles in these ways, it is probably a good idea to do an inventory of your views on the divine attributes. Is your God concept a healthy one? If not, then perhaps some intellectual molting is in order.

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The Best and Worst of 2025

By Jim Spiegel

It has been another exciting year for the Spiegel family—more transitions and making new friends. In August Jim commenced his work as Executive Director of the Center for Faith & Life at Geneva College in Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania. He has rolled on to the Board of the Kalos Center and now hosts the Kalos Center Podcast on a part-time basis. Amy continued her work in Institutional Advancement at Hillsdale College but now working remotely in a role well-suited to her interests and skills. Maggie is a sophomore majoring in English at Wayne State University. Sam graduated from Taylor University last January. He is currently working for State Farm Insurance in Detroit and planning to attend graduate school next Fall. Bailey has been rooming with Sam in Detroit while working at Mad Nice Italian Restaurant, building on his art portfolio, and applying to MFA programs. And Andrew is a freshman at Hillsdale College, where he will likely major in Philosophy and Religion. We are excited about all of these developments, as our kids continue to grow into interesting and ambitious adults. Our family conversations about art, culture, philosophy, theology, and politics are more stimulating and enriching than ever. As usual, we are closing out the year with summary remarks about good and bad stuff related to film, music, books, sports, food, and family.

Film Experiences 

Jim: I’ll go from bad to best here, starting with Killers of the Flower Moon (2023) a somniferous waste of three hours, despite Leonardo DiCaprio’s lead role. Much better was Smile 2 (2024), which Maggie convinced me to see. I’m not into horror and generally avoid the genre, though my cousin Scott Spiegel (who, sadly, died this past year) made a Hollywood career out of directing horror films. My daughter seems to be the one in our family who inherited Scott’s love of horror. Anyway, Smile 2 scared me spitless. And Naomi Scott’s lead performance as a demonically tortured pop star was brilliant. I was enthralled by Anatomy of a Fall (2023), a carefully crafted French legal drama about the mysterious death of a husband and father. The acting was tremendous, and the film’s gradual plot revelations land hard. The film is also instructive regarding French criminal court procedure, which is fascinating. I’ve enjoyed the first season of Pluribus, the latest series from the mind of Vince Gilligan, the creator of Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul. The thought-provoking science fiction premise of Pluribus alone makes it worth watching. My favorite film this year was Small Things Like These (2024), an historical drama set in Ireland in the 1980s. It is an exquisitely directed and acted film that reaches into your soul.

Amy: I find myself at a distinct disadvantage because Jim has already named several of my favorites from this year, Small Things Like These being at the top of the list by a mile. I also enjoyed Everything Everywhere All at Once, which was flawed, but creative and well-acted. I am happy to report that Wake Up Dead Man, the third in the Knives Out series, was a vast improvement over the second, which is like saying eating ice cream is a vast improvement over a root canal. We’ve been enjoying Ken Burns’ American Revolution series on PBS, though it has taken us twice as long to watch because I keep insisting that we pause, fact-check and discuss every five minutes. Another highlight on the doc scene was I Like Me, a documentary about the life and work of John Candy. Named for a line from one of our family’s holiday favorites (Planes, Trains and Automobiles), it was exactly like so many of his great performances: funny, tragic, and touchingly human. The highlight of my film-viewing this year was actually at the movie theater, a rare occurrence these days. Andrew and I saw an unintentional double-feature spanning two nights when Mission Impossible: Final Reckoning self-destructed with just ten minutes to go and we had to come back the next night. We came early and amused ourselves by “guessing” upcoming plot twists. While not the best movie in the series, the stunts are out of this world and Tom Cruise’s dedication to his craft is commendable.

Food and Music

Amy’s Best Food Experiences of the Year: This year saw a lot of meals with friends and family which become more meaningful to me as they become less frequent. My mom, Sam and I had the pleasure of eating at Bailey’s restaurant with him as our server, which was very fun. I also got the chance to eat at Pierpont’s at Union Station in Kansas City with work colleagues. The excellence of the food was only surpassed by the exceptional service. But my highlight would be the discovery of The Deck Down Under, a hole-in-the-wall restaurant located a few miles from our home in Jonesville where we shared a couple of meals first with the boys just prior to their moving to Detroit and then with Andrew and his girlfriend to celebrate his high school graduation. Again, great food and service (truffle fries so good you want to duck under the table and lick the plate), but it was the conversation and laughter I will treasure most. 

Jim’s Best Musical Experiences of the Year: I didn’t get out to see any concerts this year, but I did discover a lot of exciting new artists (well, new to me anyway), including Annika Kilkenny, Maya Hawke, Rob J Madin, Ray Lamontagne, Great Grandpa, Lily Allen, Birdtalker, Hurray for the Riff Raff and, my favorite: Geese. Their album 3D Country caught my attention at the suggestion of my son, Sam. Then came their current album, Getting Killed. Unlike their previous stuff, the band’s approach on this album feels entirely improvisational. Think Lift to Experience meets Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks with a dash of The Grateful Dead. Front man and lyricist Cameron Winter is a unique, compelling persona, confirmed by the fact that he was recently parodied on SNL. Sam and Bailey saw Geese live in Detroit a few months ago. And Sam was able to get a pic with the band after the concert, as you can see here.

Sports

Jim’s Favorite Sports Moments of the Year: 2025 was another year of “almosts” for my teams. While that meant disappointment for all of them in the end, the playoff run by the Indiana Pacers was a thrilling surprise. Since at the time of writing this the Indiana Hoosiers are #1 in the country and have a good shot at winning the college football national championship, I’ll call that my favorite sports “moment” of the year. Here’s to hoping that they don’t become my most disappointing sports memory of 2026! 

Amy’s Favorite Sports Moments of the Year: Over Thanksgiving, we had the joy of hosting my folks from Tennessee and the misery of watching every one of our teams lose. I’m not sure it counts as a sporting event, but cheering Sam and Andrew on during their first marathon this summer was a treat and seemed a rare instance in which the fans really do make a difference. Speaking of fandom, this year has seen a significant development for me as a sports fan. After years of existing in an NFL allegiance limbo, I have decided to become a Lions fan. I abandoned the Colts after a half-hearted effort to transfer my support from Peyton to Andrew Luck, only to be followed by a brief and lackluster commitment to the Carolina Panthers. Mainly, I want to have someone I can cheer on with Jim, and so the Lions it is.

Jim’s Most Disappointing Sports Moments of the Year: Amy’s notion that one can simply “decide” to become a fan of a team is interesting and worthy of analysis. But moving on . . .  My Detroit Lions getting bounced by the Washington Commanders in the first round of the NFL playoffs last January was probably the hardest loss of the year for me. The Indiana Pacers’ loss in game 7 of the NBA finals was disappointing, too, but like most people, I expected they’d lose, since Oklahoma City was so heavily favored and, okay, the better team. Still, it hurts to be that close and fall short.

Amy’s Most Painful Sports Moment of the Year: Hands down, it was my attendance of Andrew’s track meets this year. Who came up with this format?? One is expected to attend the entire 12-million-year-long meet, conveniently located seven hours from your house and bonus points for cold and rain while your child competes for approximately the wink of an eye, and the snacks are terrible. If any of my eventual grandchildren decide to run track, they will find me waiting in the car with an encouraging hug and a cup of hot chocolate.

Good Reads

Jim: Because of my work hosting the Kalos Center Podcast, I read more widely than usual this year. Oh, so many good books. I loved Anne Hendershott’s The Politics of Envy, which discusses the vice of envy as it manifests in many cultural contexts, from the academy to politics to social media. Robert Woodson’s Woodson Principles is an inspiring and practical summary of his proven approach to urban renewal, and Don Eberly and Ryan Streeter’s The Soul of Civil Society is a superb complement to this, providing many wise insights about civic engagement and democratic culture. I was deeply edified by John Perkins’ One Blood, perhaps the most biblically faithful work I’ve read dealing with race relations. And by “race”—following Perkins—I mean the human race). On the theological front, Michael Kruger’s Canon Revisited on the origin of the New Testament canon is the best volume I’ve read on the fascinating and sometimes bewildering topic of biblical canonicity. Dan Doriani’s Work: Its Purpose, Dignity, and Transformation is a superb introduction to a biblical theology of work. And I loved D. A. Carson’s Exegetical Fallacies, a book which I had never read in its entirety. Now I understand why so many scholars call this a “must read” for anyone interested in—and especially anyone who professionally does—biblical exegesis. My only real disappointment of the year was Christopher Watkin’s Biblical Critical Theory. While this book made good fodder for group discussion with the group of Columbus pastors I led as part of the Center for Christian Virtue’s Minnery Fellowship, I found many aspects of Watkin’s methodology to be disappointing.

Amy: Like Jim, I read a wide range of books this year. One of these was Birding to Change the World by Trish O’Kane. I couldn’t agree with this woman’s politics less, but I couldn’t stop reading the book and pondered it for weeks afterwards. My family is likely to write her hate mail for my new obsession with a bird-watching app I can’t get enough of. I loved The Hallmarked Man by Robert Galbraith, aka J.K. Rowling. She’s a literary genius who creates characters I can’t get enough of. What else can I say? Erik Larson’s The Splendid and the Vile is a very interesting look at Churchill leading up to and during the Battle of Britain. Allie Beth Stuckey’s Toxic Empathy is a succinct but powerful examination of virtue gone wrong. Lee Strobel’s Seeing the Supernatural is sobering and encouraging. And Harriet Beecher Stowe’s classic Uncle Tom’s Cabin and Garrett M. Graff’s The Only Plane in the Sky are my current reads in progress. Both of these are gripping portrayals of some of our country’s darkest days and the courageous efforts of many who lived through them.

Best 2025 Family Memories

Jim: Our annual Bell (Amy’s side of the family) summer reunion was a lot of fun again, this time spent at Donkey Town, an aptly named rental property in southern Indiana. Having the whole family together for Thanksgiving at our new home in Beaver Falls was a definite highlight, especially given the fact that our latest batch of eight Goldendoodle puppies were at peak cuteness and rambunctiousness at the time. By mid-December we delivered seven of them to their thrilled new owners, and we kept one—Pippet, named for the ill-fated dog in the film Jaws. Hopefully, our pup won’t meet such a gruesome end. We’ll be careful to avoid taking her to Amity Island during the summer months.

Amy: Empty-nesting with Jim as we settle into our new home in Pennsylvania has been a blast. While I was very sad to say good-bye to Michigan and a bit daunted by the prospect of starting over again, being reunited after a year of Jim splitting each week between his job in Ohio and our house in Michigan has been nothing but wonderful. Adjusting to the kids being gone has been hard, but I love seeing each of them forging their own paths in new settings and supporting them as adults rather than shepherding them as children. I also had the terrifyingly profound experience of delivering eight puppies by myself when our beloved Goldendoodle decided to give birth while Jim was out of town. And yes, Donkey Town was everything the name says and more.

New Year’s Resolutions

Amy: The upheaval of the last five years has served as an excuse for making less than stellar choices in the area of nutrition and exercise for me. Hoping to turn that around this year along with reading more and scrolling less.

Jim: I have committed to fasting (as a spiritual discipline) more consistently in 2026. It is amazing how much moral-spiritual power there is in this practice—sharpening the mind and improving self-control, which of course is a key fruit of the Spirit.

Happy 2026 everyone!

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On Villains, Vengeance, and the Christian Hero

By Jim Spiegel

The Christmas story is about a certain Hero. But like all hero tales, the story also has its villains. When King Herod learned that the “king of the Jews” was to be born in Bethlehem, he set about apprehending the baby. This prompted an angel of the Lord to appear to Joseph in a dream, telling him “Rise, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him” (Mt. 2:13). Joseph and Mary obeyed this instruction, which served to fulfill the Old Testament prophecy, “out of Egypt I have called my son” (Hos. 11:1). When he realized he had been outsmarted, Herod was furious and ordered the slaughter of all baby boys in Bethlehem.

There are also villains who opposed Jesus during his three-year ministry. Twice during conversations with the Pharisees, they attempted to kill him. During the Feast of Tabernacles, Jesus proclaimed his equality with God, saying, “before Abraham was, I am.” We are told that his opponents “picked up stones to throw at him, but Jesus hid himself and went out of the temple” (Jn. 8:59). Later, during the Feast of Dedication, Jesus again enraged the Pharisees by asserting his divine identity when he said, “I and the Father are one” (Jn. 10:30). In response,  “the Jews picked up stones again to stone him.” But rather than smiting them, Jesus simply replied, “I have shown you many good works from the Father; for which of them are you going to stone me?” (Jn. 10:32).

At the end of his earthly ministry, there were many more villains who, together, succeeded in killing the Lord. Judas Iscariot betrayed him, the Jewish high priest Caiaphas, along with the Sanhedrin, sought to have Jesus executed for blasphemy, Pontius Pilate ordered the execution—despite his claiming innocence in the process—and Herod Antipas, the crowd, and the Roman soldiers who carried out the execution, all played their villainous roles.

Even after Jesus publicly rose from the dead, there was more villainy from the chief priests, Jewish elders, and Roman soldiers who attempted a cover-up of the resurrection (Mt. 28:11-15).

So many villains, and one Hero. It is easy to overlook the significance of the fact that, despite all of the treachery, lies, and murderous injustice, Jesus never sought revenge. On the contrary, he consistently reasoned with his opponents or else remained silent. He perfectly fulfilled his own radical counsel: “Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also” (Mt. 5:39).

The Apostle Paul would later reiterate Jesus’ teaching, saying, “Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord’” (Rom. 12:17-19). Paul, too, would abide by this counsel, even unto a martyr’s death. He too was a hero.

We all have villains in our lives, and accordingly we all face temptations to take revenge, whether in big or small ways. Even if we succeed in resisting the temptation of vengeance, we will deal with the temptation to resentment and holding grudges. This is essentially mental vengeance and can be just as psychologically and morally self-destructive as vengeful action.

But practicing forgiveness is often extremely difficult. When we struggle in this area, we should keep in mind not only how Jesus modeled forgiveness but also how God used the villains in his life to advance his cause. God parleyed their wickedness into the ultimate triumphant tale. And so it goes for those who obey Jesus—in heart and mind, as well as action—despite wicked opposition. The villains end up unwittingly serving the hero’s greater good.

This is one of the profound lessons of the story of Jesus, from Christmas through Easter. And it can be the story of our lives as well, as we deliver our own villains into the hands of God by loving and forgiving them. This is the way to triumph. It is the way of the Christian hero.

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Before and After

By Amy Spiegel

Every life has a few before-and-after moments, some that are shared with others and some that are more personal. There are some before-and-afters that seem small but which have profoundly shaped my life. Before and after discovering the world of independent film. Before and after reading Jane Austen. Before and after realizing that food from other countries is better than chicken fingers.

Some moments are deeper and more life-changing. Before and after becoming serious about my Christian faith. Before and after becoming a wife and then a mom. Before and after 9/11, an experience many of us have had, in our own way, together. Wednesday was a day of two before-and-after moments. First, one moment, I was emailing a Hillsdale donor about the impact a single life can have on the world. The next, I was reading a message from Jim saying that Charlie Kirk had been shot. Then, I got on Twitter and inadvertently watched a video of Charlie being shot. One moment, I was waxing poetical about the price of liberty and the next I was watching someone paying the ultimate price. Before and after.

While we won’t know for days, months, or even years how Charlie’s death will reverberate throughout history, I know with certainty how it will echo through mine.

The fact of his death laid bare the stakes we are playing for in our current public discord. Labels of Republican and Democrat no longer really apply. You are now either on the side of life or the side of death. The contrast is too stark to ignore. This should be good news. Surely the cause of life is something most reasonable people can rally around. Aren’t the rights to “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” all things that were just stolen from Charlie Kirk, things we all want to see secured for us all? We might disagree about how to pursue those things, or how to secure them for others, but good gravy, can’t we all say in unison, “I don’t want public figures being gunned down in public because they said something someone else disagrees with”?

So I resolved that I will hold out two hands from this day forward: the first will be a fist so tight that, to quote Ferris Bueller, if it held a lump of coal “in two weeks you would have a diamond.” In that fist, I will hold my unalienable rights, given by God to me and all my fellow citizens. And those rights will only be taken from me by force. I will not strike out with that fist, but I will cling to those rights for me, for my kids, and for all my fellow Americans to whom I will extend that second hand, in an attempt to bridge whatever divide separates us—in a desire to find a way to unite around values and principles we all hold dear. I will not join with those who seek to snatch my rights of life, freedom, and expression, but I will look for common ground wherever it can be found.

I said that I experienced two before-and-after moments on Wednesday. The first when I got the news and the second when I witnessed it with my own eyes. Despite initial news to the contrary, after seeing that video, I knew that Charlie Kirk was dead. Dead and yet . . . in all the horror of that moment, I felt as if I watched Charlie come alive. And that was the second “after.” Seeing that Charlie had not lost anything and he gained everything. My second resolve was to live in the light of that reality, that I have nothing to lose that anyone can take.

In times of discouragement or doubt, I can often be found, driving with the windows down, singing badly, but with great gusto, the Avett Brothers’ song “Ain’t No Man” the chorus of which is:

There ain’t no man can save me. There ain’t no man can enslave me. Ain’t no man or men that can change the shape my soul is in. There ain’t nobody here who can cause me pain or raise my fears. ‘Cause I got only love to share.

While I usually find this song quite uplifting and inspiring, it isn’t entirely true. There is a man who can save me. A man who died for the sake of the truth, and it wasn’t Charlie Kirk. It was the man who saved Charlie and me and anyone who will call upon His name. This is the man who was waiting for Charlie on Wednesday. He is waiting for us all. And this man, Jesus Christ, said of those who will trust Him, “I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.” May we all reach out, as Charlie did, and take that hand until He sees us home.

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Connecting the Dots

By Amy Spiegel

Several years ago, the Spiegel family spread out across multiple countries and continents in an unprecedented flurry of world travel. Jim was in Greece, Bailey in Israel, and Sam was in Bolivia while Maggie, Andrew and I kept the home fires burning back in Indiana. Multiple times a day, I would pull up our family chat and check the location of my family members. I got a rush of joy and a feeling of connecting to my far-flung husband and offspring as I watched them move jerkily across the screen like a technological version of the Marauders Map from Harry Potter. I am not sure that I could solemnly swear I was up to no good, but I did develop a terrible addiction. I became a “location dot” addict.

Something about seeing this tiny dot, so far away, made me feel closer to them. When everyone came home, I started checking to see if they had left soccer practice and were on their way home for dinner. Or if they were cutting it close for curfew. Now that we are quasi-empty nesters, I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and double-check that they have all made it home safe and sound. Ironically, my mom has started doing the same to me. I get texts from her saying, “Are you working from home today?” or “Traffic bad? Why are you stopped in the middle of the interstate?”

I recently learned this is a “thing.” When referring to my locations addiction at work, a male co-worker said, “What is it with women and dots?” Until he asked, I didn’t realize there was a thing with women and their dots. I thought it was just me.

If this is, in fact, a female phenomenon, I imagine there is more than one answer to that question. Typically, women are “running the show” when it comes to the family schedule, coordinating drop-offs and pick-ups, mealtimes and bedtimes, invites, and events. So it makes sense that they would look for a “leg up” in keeping all their family ducks in a row. I will confess to sending an innocently worded “Almost home?” which, given the location of the recipient, could also have read “Why haven’t you left yet?” Entirely a truthful reflection of my knowledge of their whereabouts? No. Highly effective way to both avoid an argument and get them to hightail it home? Heck yeah.

But beyond the convenience as a tool of the homemaker, I think there is something deeper, more visceral that calls to our maternal nature when we seek to “find my.” If you aren’t an Apple user, “Find My” is the app for Mac users to find their devices, items (e.g., air-tagged car keys, etc.) and people. Perhaps it is a stretch, but this app presents women with a temptation eerily similar to that first forbidden fruit of Eden. Tempted by Satan to disobey God, Eve was told that in doing so, “your eyes will be opened and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” (Genesis 3:5) What Satan predicted came true, Eve’s eyes were opened and she did gain the knowledge of good and evil, but she, along with all the women that followed, sure paid the price. Her relationship with God, Adam, and all of nature, even her own body, was irrevocably altered for the worse. The blessing of womanhood, our beauty, frailty, and unique reproductive role was turned against us in God’s curse and its devastating consequences.

Now I am fairly certain that I do not fall under God’s judgment each time I reach out and check my family’s locations. And I seriously doubt they are struggling under the burden of His wrath because I like to know where they are. But I do think there is a clear connection between Eve’s failure and my own obsession, both are rooted in a lack of trust and a longing for control. Eve didn’t want to obey; she wanted to rule. I don’t just want to know; I want to control. Somehow, I have convinced myself, however subconsciously, that by knowing where they are, I am protecting those I love. As if by knowing where they are, I am watching over them as well. But I am not, because I am not God. Only He can protect. Only He is in control. He not only knows how to find us, He knows how to bring us home. I am just an observer of dots. He is the one connecting us all.