That Demon Had a Point tho...

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In the show, Good Omens, there is an exchange between Aziraphale - the angel - and Crowley - the demon who tempted Eve in the Garden. As they watched Adam and Eve leave the Garden, they reflect on what just happened and on God's reaction to the first sin. And Crowley, in perhaps one of the most existential cases of a person you dislike making a pretty valid point, makes a pretty valid point. 

Speaking as equals, Crowley asks if God may have overreacted, considering it was our first offence. At that point, our only sin. He then adds, on the nature of the sin itself, that "I can't see what's so bad in knowing the difference between good and evil." To wit, Aziraphale, the angel responds, "Well it must be bad, because you tempted them into it." When Crowley continues to probe Aziraphale's reasoning, Aziraphale says that this was all a part of God's ineffable plan. And because it came from God, the plan must be good. This means that the suffering we are about to endure - the suffering that will be inflicted upon us or simply be allowed to happen - is all part of a plan that is ultimately good.

A Slight Overreaction?

Upon hearing this exchange, I felt something crack inside me. Because Crowley makes a pretty good point. Why was God's reaction to banish man from Eden? If God is supposed to play a parental role in our life, why is their first reaction to disobedience absolute rejection? For what is, essentially, the sin of being a kid. The 'crime' of wanting to explore the world beyond what your parents have laid out for you. Is this how a loving parent ought to react to disobedience? Is God's reaction an appropriate response to being tested by his children's need to discover who they are outside of you? Is it an appropriate response for any parent? 

Where's the Harm?

To me, the answer is no. This then takes me to Crowley's second point; where is the harm in knowing the difference between good and evil? 

This difference - to me - is the very thing that animates our belief in God; taking it out of the realm of blind obedience, to willing and intentional devotion. When we know the difference between good and evil, we are presented with a choice between them. This agency is critical in shaping us as a species and as individuals. This agency makes everything we do matter because we don't have to do it. We chose to. Therefore, where is the harm in knowing the difference between good and evil? Knowing the difference doesn't - suddenly - make evil appear. This knowledge is not responsible for the death, decay and destruction that is a part of life. It just helps us make sense of it. 

At this point, you may argue that the harm lies not in the knowledge, but in what holding that knowledge represents. An attempt at divinity, and the potential usurpation of God. For, before we knew the difference, only God knew the difference. And we, no man, should ever play God. And I agree - much to my own surprise. No man should ever play God. Including God. 

The idea of someone else making decisions for me, without my input, makes my skin crawl. It does not matter if they have perfect knowledge, perfect power, and perfect presence. They will not have to live with the consequences of the choices they make for me; I will. Returning to the parents analogy; even parents recognise that they cannot tell their kids what to do. Not really. The best they can do is guide them to make choices that benefit them. And the best guidance they can provide is knowing the difference between good and evil; right and wrong. And that, sometimes, it's not black and white. 

God, even as I write this, my inner Christian is rebelling. She is telling me that I sound vain and hopelessly arrogant. But I will remind her that agency is a wonderful thing. It makes life matter. And, as a result, people have died so that I may live a life of my choosing. To make my own mistakes and learn from them. To decide for me what matters. So I ask again, what is the harm in knowing the difference between good and evil?

If anything, this knowledge should have enriched our relationship with God. It should have activated the joy that many people find in children. The wonder that animates our desire to procreate. To me, having kids is not about having children. It is about watching them grow into beautifully flawed people.  

Yes, it is a wonderful thing when children revere you. It is humbling when they look at you with so much trust that you will do anything to become worthy of that trust; to hold onto that trust. But, doesn't it mean more when children choose to trust you? Choose to confide in you. To find solace in you? To know that out of everyone they know and could know, you still have the privilege of knowing them and loving them. This can only happen when you activate our agency. When you allow your kids to make choices. When you tell us the difference between good and evil, and allow us to make that choice.

Yet, still, my inner Christian rebels. She reminds me, like Aziraphale, that "God's designs are ineffable." They are beyond our understanding. And any attempt to try to understand them is wrong. But why? (and yes, I was that kid). In fact, this mini-Me is the reason why I struggle to embrace Crowley's reasoning; even though it is incredibly compelling and he probably has a point. 

But it feels like he shouldn't... It feels like it is a trick designed to test the faithful. Just another part of God's ineffable plan. Still, I am frustrated by the lack of clarity. Frustrated that, despite everything, I can't deny that Crowley, may have had a point. 

Perhaps the point is moot because there's a certain inevitability that follows the Christian creation mythos. It does not matter, because this was always going to happen. Man was always going to fall. We were always going to sin. 

But what that sin meant, was never set in stone. It didn't have to be...

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