Master Builder

In order to make my point in this essay, I need to tell you something about myself. In 1970, I graduated with a double major in engineering and architecture from a rather prestigious US university. Over the next four years I finished master's degrees in both of those subjects and have worked in these fields around the world since then. Along the way, I’ve become both a journeyman electrician and plumber. I’ve purchased mines, manufacturing and distribution networks over the years and have a workshop in which I can build anything from a watch to a semi-truck. All of my tools are hand made from raw materials mined from one of my mines and manufactured in my workshop.. Five years ago, I decided to build a house for my wife as a love gift. Using my knowledge as an architect and engineer, I designed the house. It wasn’t Bill-Gates size, but roomy with all the latest technical innovations and some that aren’t yet on the market. I built it myself using my own tools and lumber from my private forests. Bannisters cabinetry and trim were of rare woods grown in these forests. Concrete came from my mines as did rock and slate for external walls, garden paths and roof. The pool was the size of two olympic-size pools designed as a natural lake. I also built an elaborate gazebo some distance from the house with grills and heating for cold-weather entertainment. As you can see, I spared no expense. You may have noticed that I used the past tense “was” in describing the house. Here’s what happened: When it was finished and landscaped, I took my wife on a meandering drive through various Portland neighborhoods. As we drove, the size and expense of the houses increased markedly. She began exclaiming over each new revelation as we wound through the most expensive neighborhood. We came to a gate at the end of the road. I swiped a card and the gate swung open. She looked at me, puzzled, but knowing me, she didn’t say anything. The road narrowed, but continued to wind through forest. At last we broke out into the open. Manicured lawns, artfully placed trees and shrubs drew the eye to small waterfalls and ponds. A deer flitted through the trees at the edge of what was designed as a forest meadow. Around a final bend, the house came into view. It blended perfectly with its surrounding with native stone facades and slate roof. We stopped in the driveway of the ten-car garage, already housing some of my antique vehicles. Opening her door, I ushered her toward the front door of the house and handed her a plastic card. I pointed to a card reader and she inserted it. The front door started to open. Suddenly a creaking and cracking sound started high up in the eaves. I knew what that meant, though it puzzled me intensely. I snatched her away from the front door just in time to have a pile of slate crash to the ground where we had been standing. The roof collapsed in on itself. The walls leaned out and fell into piles of rubble. Internal walls collapsed followed by the ornate stone fireplaces. Plumbing pointed skyward as if seeking a reprieve then it too fell into the tangle of stone and wood. In a matter of moments, what had been a magnificent structure, of incredible beauty and value was nothing but junk. Taking her trembling hand in mine, we walked to the back of the rubble pile. The water in the pool had become a violent vortex, siphoning into the ground with a rushing sucking sound that was terrible to hear. It went dry before our eyes, revealing a giant hole. I turned to see the gazebo. It was the only structure undamaged. In rage and frustration I lit a match and threw it into the wreckage which had been the pride of my life. It sputtered then caught and roared to life. The resulting conflagration consumed all that was left. Later, I built a propane-fed furnace that kept the pile of unburnable materials red hot. I wanted it to remind me forever of my folly. What failed? Was it my plan? My materials? My workmanship? My tools? My skills? Was it the work of an outside enemy whose cunning I had not anticipated? Something went horribly wrong and in my anger, I burned the it and made it uninhabitable by anyone else. Somewhere along the line, I’m sure you figured out that there is an element of exaggeration in this story. Let me assure you, none of it is true. I’m merely emulating the Master-storyteller’s technique of allegory. So, along with Him, let me explain my symbolism. The knowledge and skill I claim to have is analogous to His infinite wisdom and knowledge. The resources of mine and wood are His creative ability. He speaks; it exists. The tools are His creative power. The plans are His plan for this world and the house is this world and the universe. The burning of the house and the perpetual propane flame is hell. In His infinite wisdom, power and knowledge, He designed and created a perfect universe. Then at the dawn of His introduction of this perfection to the object of His love, Adam and Eve, it all fell apart. This little allegory is what most Christians believe happened to God soon after creation. A created creature, the serpent, used by another created creature, the devil, tricked Eve and Adam into rebellion. This he did by tempting them to eat of the fruit of the forbidden tree, which God created and of which he had explicitly forbidden them to eat. He planted both trees-the one of knowledge of good and evil and the other of life. And when it all went wrong, we are told by theologians, He casts the refuse of his failure into an ever-burning fire which will never be extinguished and from which none escape. The “lost” pay the penalty for the failure of their creator. Woven into this Genesis story is a conundrum. If God created all these things: Satan, the serpent, Adam and Eve, the garden, the trees, the fruit; if he is all-knowing, all-wise, all powerful, how did this chaos start? Was it His plan? His workmanship? His tools? His knowledge? Was it an external enemy? Where did the pride which some say crept into the heart of one of His created beings come from? Was there a design flaw? How can something go awry when brought into existence by One who is everything that is required to make perfection? No matter how these questions are answered, at least in the standard explanations, there must be some flaw in God Himself or there is something outside of Him that has the power to thwart, subvert and force Him to change His plans. Is He an impotent, inept, myopic, doddering Alzheimer God or is all this we see around us a part of His master plan? 1/24/14