“For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” ROMANS 8:38,39
The base plate of truth underlying our understanding of this Scripture may be illustrated using the following inane story:
Muscles Rockdale, a muscle-bound caveman shuffled toward his cavernous lair with a billyclub in one hand, dragging his happy chosen female, Mooneyes, by the hair in the other. She had fallen for Muscles because he was strong enough to kill a dragon, and owned the biggest cave around. She felt safe with him because he offered her lifetime security and she didn’t have to worry about a gorilla stealing her.
Skidding along on her back, Muscles pulled her right past the lusting eyes of his biggest rival, Hairy Chimpson, who gave her a beckoning wink. Hairy wore the latest fashion in leopard skin, slicked his hair with monkey grease, wore a diamond nose ring, and took the cave girls on frequent flights over the nearest volcano on his pet Pterodactyl. There he stood, handsome, dashing Hairy, with his streamlined club in one hand, a stalk of bananas in the other.
Mooneyes’ eyes lit up like geodes! “Whoa! Wow! Where did YOU come from, handsome?” Her heart palpitated like a lizard’s throat.
Hairy took advantage of the opening. “Hey, babe, why don’t you ditch this stick-in-the-mud and come away with me for a rollicking time of fun?”
Mooneyes looked at Muscles and what he offered, then back to Hairy. Security with Muscles, or excitement with Hairy? Ignoring the fact that Muscles had what it took to give her all the excitement she could handle, she still couldn’t refuse the dashing sparkle, the colorful leopard skin, the monkey grease, and especially the thrill over the mouth of a smoking volcano. Caught up in the moment, she reached inside her sheepskin, whipped out the newly invented pair of scissors Muscles gave her to make her happy, and clipped off her hair which Muscles used to drag her. Free now, she leaped on Hairy’s back and they disappeared on a grapevine into the trees, Hairy yelling his victory.
Yes, Muscles had truthfully shown himself to be Mr. Security with all the amenities Mooneyes could ever want. He could truly say that nobody, but NOBODY, was big and bad enough to whip him and take what belonged to him. But—Muscles overlooked one small detail: That gorgeous little gal had that trusty pair of scissors he gave her to make her happy.
So, Muscles, heartbroken, shuffled back to his big cave. He knew he couldn’t have her against her own will, unless he locked her in his cave and walled it in so she’d be a prisoner for life, scissors or no scissors. She was no good to him that way. She had to be free and his, or he couldn’t have her at all. Maybe someday she’d come to her senses and come back to him, but it would have to be her own idea, not his. Until then, there she was in the woods with Hairy because, well, that’s what she wanted. Hairy beat Muscles time, but not without Mooneyes’ free consent.
However, Dr. Piltdown Humpover, science professor at Gravelton University of higher learning, a man much higher on the evolutionary ladder than normal cavemen of his time, developed a complex formula requiring six whole banana leaves to record it—a formula so advanced that it contained very difficult two-syllable words between grunts, such as “Con-trol” and “Un-known,” comparable to our modern words like Supralapsarianism, and Supercallafragilisticexpeallidocious. His formula proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that even though Muscles gave Mooneyes those scissors for her use, Muscles, according to all those banana leaves, still owned and was in full and absolute control of those scissors all the time. Even though by all appearances Mooneyes did it, no way could she clip that hair on her head unless it was a mysterious plan cooked up by Muscles himself, not Mooneyes. No cave person could ever understand how that could be, but Humpover assured them that, no, it makes no sense now, but it will someday. Meanwhile, they should not trust what they on their lower evolutionary scale had evolved into calling “common sense.”
However, Dr, Humpover met an unfortunate end. You see, he developed a companion formula even more complex, using ten banana leaves to record it. Unbelievably, he also proved beyond a shadow of a doubt—are you ready for this?—that he could fly! To test his figures, he hired Hairy to take him for a ride on his pet Pterodactyl. At a great altitude, Dr. Humpover bravely dived off! But suddenly a mysterious force grabbed him and pulled him downward. Hairy said he disappeared into the jungle below, still flapping his arms. He was never heard from again. His wife, Lucy, missed her Piltdown so much she never remarried.
It confirmed Mooneyes’ and Hairy’s belief that Humpover was completely out of touch with “common sense.” Nobody has ever been able to convince her that those bright scissors in her sheepskin are not her own, and nobody else’s. She just seems to know, banana leaves or no banana leaves.