New Beginnings Begin with Repentance

What is “mitochondrial Eve”? I am so glad you asked. According to researchers, the term relates to a DNA sequence inhabiting a woman from 200,000 years ago who was the maternal ancestor of all humans. Her genes are found in numerous indigenous Africans. Now, I am no geneticist, so detailing exactly how such a critical inquiry was envisioned and conducted, much less confirmed, is not going to happen. It is also far beyond me to explain the vast and longstanding theological debates that exist around these topics, which seem to inevitably somehow land on jaded feminist critiques of patriarchy. But I can tell you that God regularly reveals to faithful, “ordinary people,” who often lack any remarkable schooling or intellectual prowess, that which mystifies experts. Science plays an important role in our lives, absolutely, but it can also complicate the simplest truths: “Many, Lord my God, are the wonders you have done, the things you planned for us. None can compare with you; were I to speak and tell of your deeds, they would be too many to declare.” (Psalm 40:5) When everything is said and done, every day, as a divine compass, the Bible reaffirms my undeniable connection to people who walked the earth long, long ago, who like us all were created from dust and to dust one day returned. That will be everyone’s fate. Whenever reading through Genesis 3, I find myself able to easily relate to the woman named Eve. We are one in the same, with parts of her story—beginning in the first nine verses—woven into my own.

In Genesis 2:16-17, God directs Adam to not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, clearly noting death as the consequence for disobedience. He was to the point and did not mince words. And then in Chapter 3, Eve adds her own unsanctioned commentary, foolishly trying to modify what God said, which made her easy picking for the enemy of God, to capitalize on the temptation already festering inside. The brief discourse between this serpent and Eve reminds me of childhood game called Telephone. Increasingly, it is used as an icebreaker in professional or young adult settings, but back in the day it was exclusive to kids. The way it works is that a message is whispered into the ear of the first person in a line or circle, who then one-by-one passes it along in hushed voices from person-to-person, ending with the last person revealing what they were told the original message was. Often, by that time, when shared aloud, the message has suffered at least slight modifications or is drastically different. Similarly, Satan, the father of lies who only knows how to prowl around looking to “steal, kill, and destroy” (John 10:10), has been craftily peddling mutations of the truth to mankind since the fall, when the harmonious relationship between God, the Creator, and us, the created, was broken by sin.

The serpent’s shrewd proposition to Eve awakened within her a tension-filled critique about what was pleasing to the eye along with the yearning to be like or even usurp God. And maybe like you, I know what that feels like. We might as well be honest, even if the truth hurts, because you cannot experience healing from what you refuse to face head-on. There is no telling the number of times I have forfeited God’s inheritance, packaged in simple directives and boundaries to protect me, choosing instead to fend for myself, barely surviving on meals of garbage all because I gave myself an out to go after whatever I wanted, even if it was meant to kill me. (Luke 15:11-31, 1 John 2:15-17) How easily we are lulled to sleep by rebellion? This premeditated bent toward independence is a product of reproduction, present in every breath. The psalmist said it best: “Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me.” (Psalm 51:5) Within ourselves alone, we are powerless against this DNA. It marks all men and women, girls and boys.

Submission to God requires divine intervention by way of accepting Christ’s atoning work on the cross, which results in the Holy Spirit taking residence within you, to lead, tutor, correct, and encourage you walking a path that is both narrow and less traveled. It is beyond a one-time salvific declaration that I made in elementary school, sincere though it was. We begin with that, of course, a simple, childlike faith—no matter our age—but then begin producing spiritual fruit that is only possible from meditating on and being transformed by God’s Word amidst life’s ordinariness, fulfilling highlights, and disappointments, refocusing hearts that can go astray even when we know better.

Sanctification has nothing to do with “faking it until you make it” or keeping sin dormant, as a reality you get good at denying or seeking to manage. It is, however, about letting the Bible read me as I read it and surrendering to the Spirit’s intervening work that addresses why I run from God in the first place instead of to God, where safety is perpetual. Proverbs 3:5-6 is instructive here, that those who believe are wise to, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” My double-mindedness reflects the desire to push God aside and fashion a crown that proclaims self-management as a victory though it is a marker of defeat. It is absurd and futile trying to pretty any of this up—playing god with my life while also pillaging the benefits of grace when the going gets tough (maybe viewed as “spiritual fire insurance”) will not cut it. Following the Lord, although we all stumble, is not double-dutch, where you constantly jump in or out as needed. There is no preferential treatment by God to His beloved. All who submit to Jesus are treated equally, held to the same standards that accompany someone who is a new creation. (2 Corinthians 5:17) Cheat codes don’t work in the Kingdom of God.

As soon as Eve and Adam ate the forbidden fruit, “the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.” (Genesis 3:7) I spent my 20’s and part of my 30’s avoiding, as in actively running away from, the cleansing power of Jesus Christ, gripped by an imposter syndrome. Proverbs 31:8-9 tells us to, “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.” It was this that I hired to validate an addiction to performance and self-righteousness. But this maladaptive playground was a prison of despair and death, misdeeds of the flesh that I not only normalized but celebrated. The serpent was influencing me, yes, but eventually I began doing his job for him. As a slave to perfectionism, I feared failure and not attaining my goals. Whatever “better” plans God had in mind weren’t on my radar because as far as I was concerned, they weren’t better at all. Despite keeping some of it hidden at least some of the time, arrogance and self-destructive ways ruled my life. I was a mess! Thanks be to God that I was redirected to His perfect love and outstretched embrace of mercy, arriving at a place where I became convicted that I did not want to represent the hypocrisy of the Pharisees, whose mechanical and manipulative adherence to religion rendered them unable to grasp their own sin, relentless in putting others down that they might be differentiated as the holy ideal. (Luke 18:11)

In my case, I had to turn away from being a pretentious do-gooder to being candid and accurate about my pride, legalist tendencies, and insecurities. Repentance is not a private confession between an individual and God, exclusively. It also entails the public and private reversal of one’s allegiance to or excuses for that which offends God, and therefore harms His people and His world. Without genuine remorse for what we have done that is out of step with the Word of God, healing is not on its way. It is far too easy to find oneself stuck right back in the pit of endless wouldas, couldas, and shouldas. The trending research professor, Brené Brown says that shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change. (see Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable, Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead) I believe it originates with defective theology about the character of God and the holistically redeeming power of salvation. There is no condemnation in Christ, but if we are continuously being duped by Satan and his minions, so much that we exchange facts for feelings, infallibility for deceit, or heaven for earth, the spin cycle of shame keeps us dazed and confused, reeking of pity, isolation, and negative self-talk. And that is no way to live.

On the other hand, identifying what we have done or left undone and asking the Lord for forgiveness that he is “faithful and just” to provide (1 John 1:9), snaps the snare of recklessness. I want my expression of gratitude for Christ having redeemed me to rival Mary’s extravagant praise and worship with her bottle of perfume, as I refuse to waste borrowed time plotting how to serve my flesh. There will be good days and not so good days, but I am in the fight, empowered by God, and unimpressed by the enemy’s games. I no longer need to be viewed as the smartest, most capable, or hardest worker. Who cares? I will be thrilled to leave behind the example of a woman who learned the hard way that humble obedience will never be a bitter pill, able to extend compassion to those with calloused hearts because she was once in their shoes.