Journey to the Center of the Earth, Part 2 | The Murderer, the Martyr, and the Longest, Hardest Mile

Occasionally, in the farming and ranching world, the need arises to navigate in semi-unfamiliar country to a specific location out in the middle of the brush—most often a branding party on a neighbor’s place (meaning within a 50-mile radius). With people coming from all directions to help and looking for an unmarked destination that is often miles off the highway, directions usually include more landmarks than signs—a large rock by a turn-off, a falling-down building, a funny looking tree. You know you’re almost there when you see a dust cloud hanging over the place where the cowboys are gathering cow/calf pairs into portable corrals to be worked.

When the county road brings you as close to the goings-on as it can, there is seemingly always more than one rough, two-track path to choose from between you and the gathering, the right one rarely being obvious at the start. In fact, more often than not (in my jaded opinion), the most logical-looking route is just as likely to take you on a meandering excursion, bringing you within 100 yards of the gathering... on the wrong side of a gateless barbed-wire fence. In this case, you can either abandon your vehicle and contort yourself through the hostile wires (say goodbye to your favorite jeans), or go back to where you started and take the other path.

I find this familiar experience to be an uncanny reflection of the situation in which we (followers of Jesus in particular) find ourselves today. As sojourners in the world, we are on a long journey, ultimately, headed toward unfamiliar territory in the place the prophet, Ezekial, calls “the center of the earth” (Ezekiel 38:10-12). One way or another, we will all have to reckon with the coming of the King of kings, to live among his family-nation of Israel, in the place where he will establish his throne, marry his bride, judge the world, and rule over all of creation forever—Jerusalem.

We can see the proverbial dust cloud hanging over Israel as we near the end of this age, kicked up by the violent, rhythmic contractions that will one day culminate in the final battle and birth of the eternal kingdom of the Messiah. The signs of the times, the “landmarks” for which Jesus  told us to watch, are emerging one after another. (No time predictions here. Every generation sees the signs in part but, as agreed by a growing number of trustworthy watchmen, this generation is seeing them at an unprecedented level of fulfillment.)

The point here is this: We can see the Day and the place on the horizon, and though it is still some distance away, we are standing at a critical (and very personal) juncture now. Anyone who has looked out over the rage-ravaged earth and thought to themselves, “Something has seriously changed,” can confirm this. Whether we are simply experiencing another generational birth pang, or the approach of true, hard labor, we must recognize the need to carefully discern the right path forward in the tangle of conflicting and misguiding ones being presented to us in response to (or contributors to) the violent shift.

To be clear, the navigation of this leg of our journey is not a single choice to be made (though the decision to surrender one’s life to Jesus is the first and most important one). Think of these “paths” as a million seemingly insignificant decisions in the same direction, leading to the same place (Jerusalem at the end of the age) having neither the same posture toward Israel and the Jewish Messiah who will rule from there, nor the same outcome.

We don’t have to go looking for these decisions needing to be made. Moments of necessary decisiveness are rising up to meet us right where we stand, wherever we stand. They confront us in our homes and family engagements, our workplaces, schools, churches, grocery stores, and parking lots. They test us to intimate depths as we navigate our social media feeds and algorithmic online pursuits. Avoidant neutrality is no longer an option; it is a choice of silent consent.

Don’t mistakenly assume that the political and/or religious movements of our day are guiding reflections of the “narrow way” that Jesus taught and walked before us. While many popular and/or powerful voices purport to align with Jesus’ teaching, there is often an absence of holistic knowledge of, or obedience to, his commands—employing only religio/politically expedient ideas in the form of religious language and leaving the rest on the cutting room floor, the final product devoid of the evidence of lives changed.

By this lack of obedient submission to Jesus, the proverbial “fenceline” between dead-end paths and the true narrow path is made visible and avoidable. A familiarity and working knowledge of the Scriptures will be essential in discerning misguiding voices, and there’s no time like the present to begin studying for yourself.

Yet the question remains: Of what does the fenceline between the true and false paths forward consist? What separates the narrow way from the broad way in the context of the longest, hardest mile? The answer will bring much-needed clarity to our decision-making and is revealed in the simplest of terms, I believe, in the story of Cain and Abel, and the life-choices that divided them.

The Murderer and the Martyr

Now Abel kept flocks, and Cain worked the soil. In the course of time Cain brought some of the fruits of the soil as an offering to the Lord. And Abel also brought an offering—fat portions from some of the firstborn of his flock. The Lord looked with favor on Abel and his offering, but on Cain and his offering he did not look with favor. So Cain was very angry, and his face was downcast.

Then the Lord said to Cain, “Why are you angry? Why is your face downcast? If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you, but you must rule over it.

Cain spoke to Abel his brother. And when they were in the field, Cain rose up against his brother Abel and killed him. Then the Lord said to Cain, “Where is Abel your brother?” He said, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?” And the Lord said, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to me from the ground. 

                                                                                                            Genesis 4:2b-7 (NIV)

The story of Cain and Abel is set around the sacrificial offerings which each brother brought to YHWH-God “in the course of time.” It’s true that Abel’s offering of an animal sacrifice was accepted by God; Cain’s offering of the fruits of the soil was not. But this is not a lesson on God’s preference for meat over vegetables. At its heart, It is a multi-layered lesson on the attitudes and outworkings that stem from the inner posture of the heart toward God.

Cain and Abel’s story is, first, a seed-like foreshadowing of the conflict between love and death (1 John 3:14), that culminates, and will climax, in the battle between the Righteous One (Yeshua, Jesus) and the violent, would-be usurper, Satan (NOT a brother of Jesus but a fallen angel). One may think of each pair of opposing persons as the Murderer and the Martyr.

Abel’s offering of “some of the firstborn of his flock,” points forward in faith to God’s future command to the Israelites delivered from slavery in Egypt to set apart every firstborn male within Israel, both animal and human, as belonging to him. (In substitution for the firstborn males of Israel, God took the priestly tribe of Levi, Numbers 8:40-41, 18:15-15). We can understand by Abel’s offering of “the fat portions,” that he gave his best to God. The picture ultimately points toward perfect Jesus, the firstborn of God, and the offering of his own sinless flesh and blood for redemption of humanity.

Where Cain is concerned, the apostle, John, identifies him as belonging to the evil one, stating Cain’s reason for murdering his brother: “And why did he murder him? Because his own deeds were evil and his brother’s righteous.” (1 John 3:12). Indeed, the lying murderer, Satan (John 8:44) still seethes with rage at the shattering of his own delusions of grandeur by the perfectly righteous acts of Yeshua. In instigating the murder of the appointed Messiah-King, Satan failed to recognize that he was putting the seal on Jesus’ coming kingdom and his own destruction.

On a personal level, we may take away from Cain and Abel’s story the recognition that our sacrificial offerings to God serve as reflective touchpoints between the Creator and the created, the Sovereign and the servants. They test and expose the content and posture of our hearts toward him. They reveal the degree to which we acknowledge the righteous judgments underlying God’s mercy (Exodus 25:21-22). They expose the depth of our reverence and respect, both for his holiness and his demand that we also be holy (Leviticus 19:1-2; 1 Peter 1:14-15). They reveal humble, trusting obedience vs. defiant self-rule.

Our Western leaning toward bottomless grace without serious attentiveness to sin has taken a toll on our understanding of obedience. But Jesus affirmed and reaffirmed his expectation that we obey God’s laws, as reflected and corrected (from centuries of drift at the hands of the appointed religious leaders) in his teachings (Matthew 5-7). If we’re honest, we don’t like the high bar that’s been set, but we are commanded to be perfect as the Father and the Son are perfect (Matthew 5:48; 7:24-27).

For that matter, we don’t have this kind of humble, obedient heart apart from the supernatural renewal that happens when we surrender our lives to Jesus. Neither do we realize that simply to hate a “brother” or sister makes all of us murderers (1 John 3:15). But with God’s laws written on our new hearts, and with the help of his indwelling Spirit (Hebrews 8:8-12), we can face into the chain of difficult choices coming our way, to “do what is right” even in the coming times of suffering and trouble along the longest, hardest mile at the end of the age.

A critical, but counter-intuitive, aspect of Cain and Abel’s story that we must grasp is the inherent, unavoidable cost, not only of the path of self-rule, but also of the path of trusting submission and obedience. The former carries the painful cost of rejecting the ways of God, forfeiting his blessing and our place with him in eternity. The latter will carry a much steeper cost before we get there, but will lead to a pricelss reward thereafter—life with God forever (2 Corinthians 4:16-18).

This is what we can expect if we choose the path of Abel: the moment we commit to bringing our best offerings to God in every open-handed decision we make—obedience in faith, no matter what the personal cost—we can be assured that we will incur the rejection, disdain, and even persecution and violence, of those who have chosen the way of Cain—from the religious and the irreligious alike. But we will also experience the saving power of God in unimaginable ways because we trust him in the furnace of trials and dangers.

Suffering is a sure expectation, perhaps even leading to the sacrifice of our very lives, but there is a far greater danger in not weighing the costs and not choosing the right path. This error will put us in danger of discovering in the end that we are on the wrong side of the proverbial fenceline—at best, having to leave those earthly things we believed to be of value to burn in the fiery crossing, having nothing of heavenly value to take into the age to come (1 Corinthians 3:12-14); at worst, having fallen away entirely (Hebrews 6:1-8; Matthew 24:9-10).

Though we speak in this way, yet in your case, beloved, we feel sure of better things—things that belong to salvation. For God is not unjust so as to overlook your work and the love that you have shown for his name in serving the saints, as you still do. And we desire each one of you to show the same earnestness to have the full assurance of hope until the end, so that you may not be sluggish, but imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises.

                                                                                                            Hebrews 6:9-12

The encouragement and confidence we can take from Jesus’ example is the fact that he himself was “made perfect” through suffering, meaning that his lifelong experience of suffering (Isaiah 53) was the context in which he practiced obedience, in ever-intensifying measures, even up to death, making him a perfect and sympathetic High Priest and our source of eternal salvation (Hebrews 4:14-16; 5:7-10).

Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it...

                                                                                                            Matthew 16:24-25

The path of suffering will, likewise, train the true Church into a state of perfect obedience (along with the deepening knowledge of God’s faithfulness to deliver), in preparation for marriage to our Jewish Messiah-Bridegroom. We are already cleansed and made perfect by Jesus’ blood that covers us; our sacrificial acts, of suffering as he suffered, will be our very best offering, an aroma pleasing to the Lord, rising from our humble, trusting obedience to him.

To be continued...

Maranatha.