The Second Law of Thermodynamics states that every energy transfer increases entropy. Entropy is a measure of chaos. Every energy exchange increases chaos. The Third Law states that at absolute zero (zero Kelvin), the atoms become a perfect crystalline structure essentially making entropy zero or close to it. But at absolute zero, everything dies. There is no motion. No energy. No light. Nothing but still atoms frozen in their place. For us to have no chaos means all motion, all vibrations, all atomic energy, all light, all life must stop.

Yet, we ache for Eden, the garden where the man and woman walked naked and unashamed communing with God and each other. Where food was at their fingertips and knowledge dripping from every conversation. Where life was long and the days full of beauty. Most cultures have an Eden story, a creation story. A story where life was sublime, where the world came out of chaos into perfection. Where man and animals lived peaceably. And sin held no sway. And entropy was unheard of.

Then sin entered, entropy increases, bodies break down, and evil happens to innocent lives. We are born of water and walk a desert land till we find our life has stilled in this temporal space. Through all our toil and trouble, we ache for that garden of peace and perfection.

If the themes of Utopia or Nirvana or Eden or Heaven weren’t so pervasive though languages and legacies, then I think our religion would be thermodynamics and not something that transcends the physical into the spiritual and mental, that transcends this temporal space into the eternal dimensions.

Day Two in Israel, we visited the Jordan River, the Wilderness of Judah, the desert lands of Qumran, and the Dead Sea. The themes of birth, life, baptism, death, and rebirth were woven through these areas I visited. In the space between the then and now, I see how our notions of science and spirituality can miss what YHWH paints through history and nations.

YHWH who embodies hesed has coloured this world over and over in Grace.

Jordan River

Before my daughter was born, my waters broke. That was a crazy feeling, but let’s be honest, being pregnant is crazy. This child conceived in the dark and forms without my knowledge for a bit. Then kicks and has attitude with foods and positions. I was not aware of how individual she was when we were one. But, we never were one. We were two and I was her vessel to be brought forth into this temporal space. It was through the waters that she came forth. Her birth, her baptism into this space to grow and become.

The Jordan River separates Jordan and Israel. The land is one, but really isn’t. Politics and religion separate the people. We heard some singing on the other side where the Greek Orthodox Church is. A group of believers came down to the river on the Israel side for a service and prayer. Some friends in our group took the time to be re-baptized in the river where Jesus was baptized by John.

Baptism is a statement of whom you belong to. Like a birth into the identity of that ministry or ordination. John was confused knowing Jesus is the Messiah, the Anointed of God. He didn’t understand why Jesus must be baptized. Jesus wanted to identify with us. He was born a Son of Man and now ordained as the Son of God. This same LORD who was and is and will always be, declared his pleasure in his Son.

Then, the Jordan River flowed quickly and carried water for many peoples. Today, it flows slower due to irrigation, dams, and diversions. And it is muddied. I took my shoes off and my colourful socks that were mismatching. I seriously didn’t notice until the sun illuminated the difference. I slipped to the first step, then the second. And felt… nothing. Well, the cold of the water. The flow of dirt particles. But no spiritual insight. No magic moment of entropy reversing. I was baptized as a child in a church by my grandpa who was the pastor there.

The way water flows is mysterious and interesting. Water evaporates and gathers into clouds and then condensates and falls. The water that baptized Jesus might very well have been that water in the baptismal tub in that grandpa church. The energy is neither created nor destroyed. I have been born in Christ and he is my identity.

Jesus left the waters where his sonship with YHWH was declared and walked to the wilderness where his sonship would be challenged and established through overcoming his temptations.  

The Wilderness

After the Messiah fasted for forty days, Satan says, “turn these stones to bread.” Even YHWH gave manna to the starving Israelites during their Exodus. Jesus refused because he is the bread of life. Not the stones. Not this world. In the wilderness, Jesus suffered from hunger and water because there was none of that available. In the wilderness, Jesus faced with his adversary who sought to end his life from before his birth, who sought to catch him in sin. In the wilderness, Jesus faced the silence of God. Like a spiritual death – a separation from Love, Life, Light.

Biblical themes on the “wilderness” are ubiquitous throughout scripture. I suppose one could do a thematic study on “wilderness” but many of us experience it frequently just living life in this land of entropy and chaos and sin and people and silence. The wilderness wasn’t what I expected. There were no trees. I’m sure with enough exploring, I’d find a cave. We didn’t have that long. So, I walked to that hill or maybe the one just beyond that. I watched my son walk to another hill away from me.

Mommas have to be strong to watch their babies walk away from them.

We were encouraged to read through Psalm 63 during our 45 minutes in the wilderness. I did read and write and took photos. And walked barefoot. My toes dug into the dirt.  

King David wrote Psalm 63 while in the wilderness. My observations included a caterpillar, a spent round of some bullet, lots of snails waiting for the flood to come animate them.

I took my scarf from my neck and used it as a shield from the sun scorching down strong. There in my quiet space, I read and meditated on what it means to praise the LORD in the midst of toil and troubles. I took the time to reorient my vision on YHWH, to be still before him, to shema (listen).

The wilderness is a good reminder that chaos wins, but for YHWH. But for the eternal source of life. When the waters come, the desert blooms and is reborn. Its identity is in the Creator God who colours and paints life with motion, life, and grace. Moving water, moving electrons, moving air, moving creatures. The lungs expand and the voices sing aloud how great God is. All glory belongs to the LORD.

When the wilderness is dead, with rocks and a few plants trying to survive, it is easy to just focus on the chaos, on the bad. The hurt that won’t heal. The tumors that cause damage. The evil that separates the ones we love. The daily struggles just to survive to the next paycheck, doctor visit, deadline, and on and on our struggles go.

In Psalm 63, David takes his struggles and turns them into praises to God.

I think King David found the secret for defying the Second Law of Thermodynamics. If we become the praise of God, he becomes the salvation of us. Our chaos gets reordered into good for the glory of God. Our lives have meaning and purpose. And death is but a momentary transition back to the Garden, back to communion with a living, loving God.

Qumran

The caves of Qumran hold secrets we will never know as they are dead to us these thousands of years later. But some resurfaced, were reborn, if you will. They were the words of YHWH written thousands of years ago. I got to see some copies at the Israel Museum (that museum alone is worth going to Israel). I think there was an original copy or two.  Holy, sacred, amazing.

I collect old books. I love old books. I love the smell, the ancientness of the writing. I love antiquated words that survive the years. My oldest book is from early 1800s. I may have a late 1700s. But to have found the Torah written hundreds upon hundreds of years before the Messiah walked the land is astounding. The caves were the perfect place to hide the scrolls. Dry. Dark. Unknown. Conceived in the quiet waiting for the day to be brought to light.

There were mounds of rock that caught my eye, scattered. These structures were exactly what we thought. Buried beneath the seemingly random rubble were people long stilled from the struggles of life. Their ideas and work lost to history. The span between us there taking pictures and the peoples buried who inhabited that land was ages and ages. We may never know their stories.

The Essences believed they were the Children of Light. That first created energy – electromagnetic energy spanning frequencies we can and cannot see. That is a bold claim. They were one group that lived there, but not the first.

There were other people who lived in the desolate land. Including the Greeks and later the Bedouins. During the Temple’s second destruction in 70 A.D., Jews brought the scrolls and parchments from the Temple to Qumran to be stored safely in the caves, in the dark, in the unknown. Waiting to be reborn to light.

Dead Sea

Many years ago, I visited Death Valley and the lowest point (282 feet below sea level), Badwater Basin. It was miserable. I went in July and the heat was 125 degrees Fahrenheit. Miserable. The water was bad. The air was bad. It was miserable.

The Dead Sea is as much as 1412 feet below sea level. It was hot, but interesting. People floated in the water. There was tons of warnings about getting the water on our face, in our eyes, and against splashing. It is a dangerous thing to be in a water called Dead. Yet, many people risk the warnings to cover themselves in the oily, gritty water to float, to be weightless for a minute.

I stuck my foot in and felt heat and oily grittiness that stayed with me for hours until I could shower. It was an experience.

Everything is dead in that sea, except these people laughing, floating, talking. All our troubles, for a moment, are somewhere else because of the joy of enjoying a strange enigma of life in the midst of death.

Is this not the enigma of Christ? We are dead because of sin. Oh, we may live for a century or decades. Or, as some of us women know too well, some may not live long enough to see light in this temporal space. But no matter the number of our days, we are dead and will die.

Yet, Jesus came born through the waters of a woman, baptized in the water to identify with us in our sin and yet remain sinless. Walks the wilderness to walk with us in our desert and hurt. He was never dead in sin. Here is the enigma. The living Messiah chose to die so we can live, so I can live. He chose to walk a path he never needed to because life is his. He chose to die because of his love for us, his love for me.

He overcame death for the grace of God towards him. And us.

So, in our living our dead lives, we have confidence that death is not consuming or eternal.

The Anointed one conquered death so we can live.

All our present troubles will be buried in the waters of YHWH who brings order out of chaos, who brings life in death, who brings light in darkness, who brings energy in entropy.