Back to Eden

Redemption is only as important as God’s longing desire.

It wasn’t just the towering waterfalls and Icelandic black beaches that made my recent trip to Iceland so great, it was all the little intrigues and absurdities, too. From arriving at the airport with a busted suitcase that I had to effectively drag around the entire country, to squinty-eyed driving up windy, foggy, less-than-paved mountain roads, and finally to the Icelanders’ shocking depiction of Mary the mother of Jesus with a hairline even Lebron wouldn’t envy (scroll to see the absolute absurdity). Mary girl, they did you wrong.

But perhaps my favorite of them all was reading Sandra L. Richter's"The Epic of Eden" from start to finish with my travel companion, my cousin Cheyanne. (I will never forget when Cheyanne jumped out of the car, book in hand, while I was pumping gas to waste no time in continuing us on our literary quest). While there were many lessons gleaned from this “solid scholarship made easily accessible” (to borrow from the words of N.T. Wright), it had me reflecting intensely on the accessibility of God.

We have all probably experienced intense longing at some point in our lives. Whether it be from an unrequited love, a deep sense of homesickness, a dream for a future left unachieved, we can all relate to that desperate feeling of wanting to be with someone or something that is just out of our grasp.

As Richter walked us through a brief survey of the Old Testament and its themes, I was struck by the tireless attempt of God to be with His people.

From the beginning of creation, God’s desire was to walk with us in the Garden. What made the Garden paradise for humanity was the accessibility of God. What made the Garden paradise for the Creator was His unhindered connection to his creation. Think about it, God was doing just fine before the creation of humanity. He created Eden because He wanted to. He wanted to be with us. Being with us was paradise to Him.

Of course, we all know the story of how Eve was deceived by the serpent and took a bite of the fruit that initiated ‘The Fall’. The perfect paradise of Eden was shattered as sin entered the scene and God could no longer walk among His creation. Here starts the story of redemption that will one day end with the new heaven and earth discussed in Revelation 21. So what for all the pages in between?

‘Redemption’ saturates “religious” conversation so much so that it can lose its true meaning. When I think of redemption, I tend to think of all the things I need to change, and all the efforts God has made to help me get there. That is part of it. But when I think about Eden as the introduction and conclusion to this beautiful narrative that we are living, redemption means so much more.

Redemption is only as important as God’s longing desire. If God saw Eden as some sort of failed social experiment, he could shrug his shoulders and move on to whatever other heavenly tasks He prefers. But because of God’s deep yearning for closeness to us, the redemption story begins.

We could discuss the role of the prophets, Judges, kings, and faith fathers in this story and how God utilized each of these men and women as a link to His people. But what really captured me while reading through “The Epic of Eden” was the Tabernacle. In Exodus 25:8 God says, “Let them construct a sanctuary for Me, that I may dwell among them.”

And so, the Tabernacle was built with the outer court, the Holy Place, and the Holy of Holies that housed the Ark of the Covenant. The building of this sanctuary wasn’t some weird ego trip of a dictator waiting for the veneration of his subjects. Rather, it was a Father’s attempt at closeness to His children (Richter, 2008, p. 120). The Tabernacle became the home of the Ark of the Covenant so that the Israelites could move God’s dwelling place with them as they traveled through the desert.

Richter brilliantly explains the presence of God via the Ark of the Covenant (we are talking deep dives into cherubim and the like) that I won’t even attempt to get into (as the Hebrew writer states on this very subject- “But we cannot discuss these things in detail now” (Hebrews 9:5b)). I solely emphasize the fact that it was built in the first place. Humanity had strayed far from Eden, and God had a plan of redemption to guide them back. But He couldn’t wait to commune with His people. So he found a way, in the meantime, to begin living with His children again. His presence was in the Ark of the Covenant made accessible to them via the Tabernacle. No Eden, but well on the way.

As the burning desire for connection continued, God waited patiently for the proper time to send His Son to walk among humankind. The agonizing sacrifice of His only Son may have paled in comparison to the painful longing and separation that existed prior to this act of grace. And with the resurrection, a hint of garden living appears again, “For as through the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, even so through the obedience of the One the many will be made righteous.” (Romans 5:19). As He watched His Son writhe in agony, His broken heart was comforted knowing that relief to his longing was on the way.

Jesus’ death on the cross and subsequent resurrection is the climax of the redemptive story. God proves that His tireless efforts to be reunited with His children know no bounds. As Jesus takes on the sins of the world, from Adam to you and me, he opens the door of accessibility to God just a little bit wider. Yes, Jesus died for you and me to be forgiven of our transgressions. He died so we might live again in righteousness. But when I think of redemption from the lens of this epic Eden story, I see a man dying so that the wanting of His father might be fulfilled. I see a desperate Father running towards his long-lost children, ready to scoop them up into His arms and live with them as a family, unencumbered once again.

Our response to the cross is not so much a rulebook to follow as the guilty beneficiaries of a saintly sacrifice. Instead, our response is our demonstration of that same longing our Father continues to display. Our repentance isn’t as much an act of a dutiful subordinate as it is an attempt at restoration of a relationship. It is a response to a love so unparalleled that we want nothing more than to experience it at its fullest.

We see this in Acts 2 as the crowds cry out, “What shall we do?!” upon hearing about Jesus’ sacrifice. Peter says, “Repent and be baptized every one of you for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off- for all whom the Lord our God will call.” (Acts 2:38-19). Upon their repentance and baptism, they not only received the forgiveness of their sins, but also the gift of the Holy Spirit. This second gift tells us a lot about the purpose of redemption. If redemption was just about us ‘sinning less’ and ‘getting in line’, then this gift would be much less compelling.

“Now it is God who makes both us and you stand firm in Christ. He anointed us, set his seal of ownership on us, and put his Spirit in our hearts as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.” – 2 Corinthians 1:21-22

Have you ever wondered why the Scripture describes the Holy Spirit as a “deposit of what is to come”? I believe God is giving us just a small taste of Eden. As His longing continues, He finds a new way to commune with us in the waiting. The gift of the Holy Spirit tells us that redemption is much more than forgiveness. Upon our baptism, we are saying, “God, I can’t wait to be with you either!” We don’t ‘repent and get baptized’ simply to avoid fiery lakes of sulfur or to try to “be better people” … we do this to be with Him. His longings for us produced loving action and we never want to be apart from someone so great.

How does this all connect to the Tabernacle? I promise I didn’t forget about the Tabernacle. John 1:14 says, “The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us.” In the best Christmas Eve devotional of my lifetime, my dad made the connection to Jesus’ birth, the Festival of the Tabernacle, and God making his dwelling among us in human form. The Festival of the Tabernacle is called “Sukkot”, which means ‘temporary shelter’ (Leviticus 23). Jesus’ birth potentially coinciding with this festival further illustrates Jesus’ human form being God’s ‘temporary shelter’ to live with us. Through Jesus, He was 'tabernacling' among us, living in His temporary shelter so that the earth as we know it can be our temporary shelter, too.

Why, then, does Jesus say “But I tell you the truth, it is for your benefit that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send Him to you.” (John 16:7). What could be better than Jesus’ walking among the people? Apparently, the Advocate, the Holy Spirit. Jesus seems to believe that this new Advocate is a major upgrade. I almost feel like a heretic typing that. I mean what could be better than Jesus?! But you heard it from the man himself...

Let’s take the idea of the tabernacle one step further. The Ark of the Covenant was God’s presence among a select group of people, where only the high priest had limited access. Jesus was God living in human form among the people. And the Holy Spirit is God living inside his people, taking another new temporary residence until the new Eden comes. His Spirit is accessible to us all, no more need for elaborate sanctuaries, perpetual purification rituals and sacrifices, etc. This is all thanks to Jesus. “Nor did [Jesus] enter heaven to offer himself again and again, the way the high priest enters the Most Holy Place every year with blood that is not his own. Otherwise Christ would have had to suffer many times since the creation of the world. But he has appeared once for all at the culmination of the ages to do away with sin by the sacrifice of himself. Just as people are destined to die once, and after that to face judgment, so Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many; and he will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for him.” (Hebrews 9:25-28).

The Tabernacle was a transportable earthly home for the Spirit of God as His people moved from place to place. Eventually, when they entered the Promised Land, they were able to build a temple as a stationary dwelling. But Jesus came to dwell among us to break down the barriers to the Spirit of God so that God’s Spirit can dwell in us. That is why the curtain tore in two during the crucifixion (Matthew 27:51). The curtain separating the people from the Holy of Holies split right down the middle the moment Jesus breathed his last breath. Jesus’ death gave us a new access to God.

1st Corinthians 3:16 says “Do you not know that you are a temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?”. I hear people talk about how our “body is temple” regarding their new fad diet or their motivation to go to the gym. This view of us as temples of God, I believe, deeply undermines the intended purpose of the imagery. Our bodies being discussed as a temple of God should be life-changing. We are being told that God’s plan for the restoration of our right relationship is well underway. He has the victory. And we have the most unhindered access to Him since Adam was cast out of Eden. This all signals what is to come. The ultimate return of Eden.

Richter brought this epic of Eden full circle when she broke down the Scriptures about the second coming of Christ, the finale, if you will. Richter points out a vision of prophet Ezekiel in Ezekiel 47. Richter comments:

“This chapter is embedded in the prophet’s larger vision about the rebuilt and restored temple (Ezekiel 40-48). Whereas Ezekiel had lived through the period of the exile in which Jerusalem was captured and the temple razed, in these chapters he is seeing with the eyes of vision the restoration of this beloved temple at the end of all things.” (Richter, 2008, p. 126).

Richter further points out that, in his vision, Ezekiel describes the temple as a perfect square. In Solomon’s temple (a stationary version of the tabernacle), the Holy of Holies (where the Ark of the Covenant (God’s presence) dwelt) was the only perfect square. Additionally, in Ezekiel’s vision, the temple was spread to envelop the entire city of Jerusalem. What does all of this mean? “In sum, Ezekiel’s vision of the ‘rest of the story’ is God and humanity dwelling together within a city that has become a temple.” (Richter, 2008, p. 126). The temporary dwelling places for God will be replaced with His permanence among us. Just as was in Eden.

Can’t you see the Father’s longing? He is squirming in His seat, awaiting the day in which He can walk among us again. And because the waiting is grueling, He makes temporary residence with us here as He can, counting down the days until his redemptive plan is in full effect.

Redemption has always been a consistent effort by God to walk with humanity in the Garden once again. Step by step, our God is holding our hands and guiding us back towards Eden. And during this process, He is working faithfully to be accessible to us. His heart is craving our permanent presence, and He will stop at nothing to see His vision fulfilled. How does that type of love make you want to respond?

“Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” – Hebrews 4:16

Regarding the balding Mother Mary, I have so many questions...

Works Cited:

Richter, Sandra L. The Epic of Eden: A Christian Entry into The Old Testament. IVP Academic, 2008.