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WE ARE RESPONSE-ABLE: ABLE-TO-RESPOND

THE POWER OF CONTRAST

“See, I have set before you today life and good, death and evil.” (Deuteronomy 30:15)

The Tree of Knowledge stood at the heart of the garden—not merely as a test but as a mirror to the fabric of creation itself, where contrast defines understanding. We know light because of darkness, warmth because of cold, and love only because we have tasted the bitter fruit of loss and forgiveness. The tree was more than wood and leaves; it was the threshold between innocence and responsibility, wisdom and consequence.

The Weight of Knowledge and Choice

To eat was to know, and to know was to bear the weight of choice. The Torah, like the tree, offers both life and death—wisdom that grants understanding but demands obedience—you cannot have the power of choice without the resulting consequence. Results are the power of choices, and choices come with consequences, both desirable and those that are unintended. The fruit was not poison in itself, but in the hands of disobedience, it became the seed of our division, the moment humanity turned inward, crafting its own version of truth. Augustine lamented,

“By seeking to be like God, man became less like God.”

The Struggle Within

This struggle is not foreign to us—it is written into our very being. The sages called it Yetzer HaRa (יֵצֶר הַרַע), the evil inclination to “create or do evil,” the voice that whispers not only temptation but defiance. It is what Paul wrestled with in Romans 7, the aphormē (ἀφορμή)—the military foothold from which sin wages war upon the soul. Of it he states in v11,

“For sin, seizing an opportunity [aphormē] through the commandment deceived me and through it killed me.”

This aphormē is like a crack in the walkway, a rattle in the engine, or a squeak in a wheel—small, seemingly insignificant at first glance, but with the potential to grow into something far more damaging if left unchecked. Just as a crack in a foundation, though minor in appearance, can widen over time, so too can these small openings in our spiritual defenses. If ignored, they provide a space for all kinds of harmful elements—doubts, temptations, negative influences, and distractions—to slip in unnoticed. These elements, like water seeping into the crack, can begin to erode the strength of the structure, causing it to weaken and eventually collapse.

In the same way, an unaddressed issue in our lives, whether a lingering temptation, an unconfessed sin, or a neglected area of spiritual practice, can slowly lead to greater spiritual decay. What starts as a subtle shift—a little rattle in the engine or a minor crack in our walk—can eventually disrupt the whole system. Over time, the consequences of ignoring these warning signs can lead to deeper struggles, emotional damage, or a loss of direction, making it far harder to recover.

Just as maintenance is necessary to keep a machine running smoothly or a structure intact, so too must we be diligent in addressing the cracks, the subtle openings, in our lives. We need to constantly monitor and repair the spiritual weaknesses before they grow into larger, more difficult problems. Through prayer, reflection, and adherence to spiritual disciplines, we close those cracks, strengthen our foundations, and prevent the forces of temptation from exploiting the smallest vulnerabilities. When we stay vigilant, we maintain the integrity of our spiritual lives and avoid unnecessary damage.

The Greeks knew this too; Herodotus spoke of aphormē as a forward operating base—FOB, in military speak—a launchpad for conquest. He writes about the Persian Empire’s expansion and the role of strategic advantages in their conquest. In this case, aphormē refers to a trigger or point that provides an opening for further action:

“The Athenians, however, were not in a position to give an aphormē [strategic opportunity] for the invasion of Asia…” (Herodotus, Histories, 5.105).

Thucydides also used the term to describe the pretext or advantage one takes to gain strategic ground. And so it is with sin—it needs only an opening, a moment of weakness, an opportunity, to enter and slay. As Epictetus observed,

“Every habit and faculty is preserved and increased by its corresponding actions: the faculty of walking by walking, that of running by running. If you would be a good reader, read; if a writer, write. But if you would incline towards vice, give room to vice—aphormē (opportunity, space, exercise) is all it needs.” (Discourses 2.18.1)

Certainly, the same principle applies to spiritual practice. This is why it is essential to actively engage in spiritual disciplines such as prayer, meditation, studying the Word, worship, and fellowship. Without such intentional involvement, how else can the inner spirit be strengthened, becoming fit and resilient enough to effectively resist and fight against the forces of evil?

Why spiritual training? Because spiritual power is the invisible current that fuels the good life! As it is written in 3 John 2:

“Beloved, my desire for you is that you would prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers.”

Our spiritual strength directly impacts every aspect of our lives, guiding us toward wholeness and abundance.

In a very real sense, Jesus becomes the fruit of life hanging on the cursed tree (cross) that we can pick (choose), eat and live.

We Are What We Eat

We are what we eat, both physically and spiritually.

Humanity consumed the forbidden fruit and, in doing so, took into itself the knowledge of both good and evil—not as distant concepts but as an internal war. By eating, we ingested duality itself—the dichotomy of good and evil became embedded within us. This “knowledge” (da’at, דַּעַת) did not save us; instead, it cast us into a struggle, an uncertainty filled with fear and darkness. Knowledge (da’at) is not truth (emet, אֱמֶת). While knowledge is always relative and in flux, only truth is absolute and certain.

Act of Eating	Consequence
Eating from the Tree of Knowledge	Internalisation of good and evil, internal conflict
Eating the Bread of Life (Christ)	Internalisation of restoration, healing, righteousness

In contrast, Christ, the Bread of Life, offers Himself for consumption, so that we might be remade in Him. He is truth (John 14:6). Even His birth was marked with the symbol of heavenly bread—laid in a manger (from mangier, “to eat,” also “munch”) so that we, like the beasts of the earth, might partake and be restored from our fallen state. This is why He states in John 6:51,

“I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

He is the Bread of Life laid in the house of bread, Beit-Lehem, that we might eat and live as humans made in the image of God, rather than being ruled by the brutish lusts and whims of the flesh.

Redemption Through Christ

He became what we are so that we might become what He is:

“For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (2 Corinthians 5:21)

“Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree.” (Galatians 3:13)

Just as we consumed rebellion and became sinful, so He consumed our sin and became cursed, that we might consume Him and become righteous (blessed).

“And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” (John 12:32)

“He said this to show by what kind of death he was going to die.” (John 12:33)

This echoes the bronze serpent in the wilderness:

“Make a fiery serpent and set it on a pole, and everyone who is bitten, when he looks at it, shall live.” (Numbers 21:8)

In a very real sense, He becomes the fruit of life hanging on the tree, available for us to pick, eat, and live. The ancient serpent in the garden injected us with his venom—his deception leading to our spiritual death, a kind of “blood poisoning” that spread through all humanity. But Christ, hanging upon the tree, becomes the antidote.

Just as the Israelites had to look upon the bronze serpent to be healed, so too must we reach out, pick the fruit of life—Jesus Himself—and consume it to be healed from the venom of sin.

Communion: The True Tree of Life

This is why communion—the act, not the church service—is not just a ritual but a restoration of what was lost. We once ate and died; now, we eat and live. The Eucharist is a direct reversal of Eden’s tragedy. “Take, eat; this is my body,” Jesus commands (Matthew 26:26).

The very act that condemned us is now the act that redeems us.

The bread we break is not mere sustenance—it is participation in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ (1 Corinthians 10:16), because you are what you eat. The cup we drink is not just wine—it is the life of the new covenant, a cure for the poison running in our veins since Eden.

Thus, the table of the Lord—the sacrificial altar of spiritual discipline—stands before us as the Tree of Life once stood in the garden. The choice remains before us. Will we reach for the fruit that heals or remain in the sickness of sin?

The Final Choice

The first Adam ate and died. The second Adam offers Himself that we may eat and live. If the first bite doomed us, the second redeems us.

Deuteronomy 30:15, with its call to choose between life and good or death and evil, frames this as an ongoing, present challenge, not merely a historical event. The choice between what nourishes our souls and what leads us away from life is a daily, continuous decision for humanity. We are constantly consuming, and in doing so, we are constantly becoming.

I must ask myself, “Am I becoming the person I truly want to be?” and “Is my ‘diet’—what I consume daily—reflecting that choice?“

The choice is always before us, a powerful invitation to shape our lives. Each day, in every action, we make a choice—one that no one else can make for us. With each step, we decide between life or death, growth or stagnation, light or darkness. And with every choice we make, we are crafting our future, building the life we desire, or settling for less. The beauty of it is that the power lies in our hands. We have the ability, time and time again, to rise, to thrive, to embrace the fullness of life. The question is not whether we will face challenges, but whether we will choose life in the face of them. Every choice matters—let it be one that leads you to the life you were meant to live.

“See, I have set before you today life and good, death and evil.” (Deuteronomy 30:15)

DEVOTIOANL PRAYER

Devotional Prayer: The Power of Contrast

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for the gift of choice, for the profound wisdom that You have set before us: life and good, death and evil. Your Word reminds us daily that our choices shape the path we walk and the lives we build. I stand before You, acknowledging that each decision, no matter how small, carries weight and consequence. I recognize that in every moment, I have the power to choose, and I choose life, Lord. I choose Your truth over the lies of this world. I choose light over darkness, love over fear, and wisdom over ignorance.

Lord, in the Garden, You placed before humanity the Tree of Knowledge—not merely as a test but as an invitation to understand the world through contrast. You have shown us that without darkness, we cannot know light; without sorrow, we cannot fully appreciate joy. Help me to live with an awareness of this duality, that I might walk in the fullness of Your truth and grace. May I never forget that the choice for life is not just a momentary decision, but an ongoing, daily act of devotion to You.

Father, Your Son, Jesus, became the fruit of life upon the cross. He offers Himself to us as the Bread of Life. Lord, may I choose Him, every day, to consume and to be consumed by His love, so that I might live fully in Him and become the person You created me to be. May I internalize His sacrifice, that His restoration, healing, and righteousness may dwell within me, transforming me from the inside out.

Grant me the strength to resist the voice of temptation and defiance that seeks to lead me astray. Help me to recognize the moments of weakness where sin might gain a foothold and empower me to choose You, to fill my life with Your Word, prayer, and fellowship. May I strengthen my spirit in the same way I strengthen my body—through daily practices that keep me aligned with Your will.

Lord, I pray that as I partake in the spiritual disciplines of prayer, meditation, and communion, I am continually reminded of the choice that lies before me. May I taste and see that You are good, that in You, I find my true life. I surrender my will to You today and every day, asking You to guide my steps, to align my heart with Yours, and to lead me in paths of righteousness for Your name’s sake.

Help me, Lord, to choose life, to choose good, to choose You—today and always.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION

• Here are five relevant questions for reflection, based on the provided source:
• How does the concept of contrast (light/dark, warmth/cold) help me understand the choices I face in my own life, and what does it suggest about the nature of good and evil?
• Given that the act of eating the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge led to an internal conflict of good and evil, how does my daily consumption (both physically and spiritually) influence my internal state and the person I am becoming?
• Considering that spiritual disciplines like prayer and meditation are essential to resist the forces of evil, how actively am I engaging in these practices, and what changes could I make to strengthen my spiritual life?
• If Jesus becomes the “fruit of life” on the cross that we can choose to consume, how does the concept of communion (the act of eating and drinking) offer a reversal of the original act of disobedience and what does it mean for my own personal transformation?
• Given the idea that the choice between good and evil is a daily, ongoing decision, am I actively making choices that lead me toward the life I was meant to live, and what practical steps can I take to ensure my choices are aligned with my values?