A Word to Satan

Grace & Judgment through a Single Word

God sovereignly directs the destruction of the evil one and the deliverance of the woman’s seed through the victory of his Incarnate, bruised Son (Genesis 3:14-15).

Photo by Wesley Tingey on Unsplash

Trial Background

The world had never seen a trial like this trial. It was a trial not of the year, the decade, in our lifetimes, or even of the century. It was the trial of trials, the trial of the ages. As we pour into the courtroom, we see three figures: a man and a woman rather poorly dressed. What is that for clothing? Are those leaves? Odd. Are their heads bowed? Surely, the Judge got the right people. Just look at their faces. They read guilt all over them. We see also a strange-looking creature. He sits up straight. He’s the best dressed one in the room, his suit is a crisp black with a shiny veneer that dazzles the viewer’s eyes. Not a single hair on his head is out of place. Surely, the Judge got the wrong man. When this attractive foreigner breathes, we wonder if we see a forked tongue. Another oddity.

These three figures are sitting on the seats of the accused, about to hear a word of judgment. And by the looks of the figures, we, being fine judges ourselves, know what’s to come. The judgment word is sure to come from the Judge’s bench. We don’t exactly see this Judge. There’s a brightness filling the room, but it’s not the light of the sun. Its source is clearly the Judge’s bench. The shine of the strange character’s suit and face appears to be a radiant light, light like the refulgence of an angel, but upon closer inspection, this is a false light, a false beauty. The light of the judge exposes this lesser light to be no true light at all. And we begin to see the reason why the Judge is the Judge. His holy justice fills every crevice in the courtroom. We begin to tremble ourselves, because we sense that the doom of woe is moments away. We sense that what’s about to be uttered isn’t going to affect the lives of the accused alone, but somehow we’re joined to the ones seated to hear a word of punishment.

And so, we struggle to bear what we are sure to hear, and as the accused wait for this judgment, the Judge reminds everyone in the courtroom of what crimes have been committed. The Judge speaks to the man as if the man were the most responsible of the three.

Judge: “The law of the land is clear. You had everything you needed to live in my domain. You were offered full life and freedom in the land. But you did the one thing I told you that you could not do. You stole from my Garden. It was not yours to have. You took from me. Do you deny this?”

Sure enough, the man did deny this, but his face denied him.

Man: “You set me up for failure, Judge. You gave me this woman. If I had been given someone better to help me, then I would have obeyed this one law.”

Judge: “I seem to recall, O man, that you were literally singing my praises just yesterday, or did I imagine that? Enough. You stand condemned.”

Turning to the woman, the Judge asked: “And what about you? The man is right. You did take from my Garden. You stole from that one tree that’s off-limits, and gave it to him. Do you deny this?”

The woman replied: “This is true, Judge. I did take from your Garden the one thing you told my husband that we couldn’t have. But this is the first I’m hearing of this. To be honest, from my mouth to God’s ears, I was led astray. I didn’t know. I plead ignorance. There was a serpent, and he lied to me. How was I to know?”

The Judge settled her case: “Your deception is no excuse. Enough. You stand condemned.”

The Judge finally turned to the well-dressed, black-suited bright one. But the Judge silenced him. The snake knew better. He denied the Judge’s law, denied the Judge’s good will, and fed the woman the lie: “You won’t die if you steal from him. The Judge actually doesn’t want you to become the Judge. He’s afraid and evil. Isn’t the tree a good tree? This ‘good’ Judge doesn’t want you to have it.” The snake wore the guilt on his face. He would’ve coiled up himself and slithered into a hole if he could, but the Judge’s Word caught him by the tail.

Trial Sentencing

The Judge opened his mouth with ominous words too hard to hear. The Judge looked at the snake, had no eyes to pity him, and sentenced him to a lifetime of imprisonment without the possibility of parole. This creature was not capable of good behavior. His death sustenance will be the dust of the earth, as he slithers on his belly to and fro in chains. What we see of this snake’s life, then, intrigues us all. How can he be mobile yet chained? The food he is apportioned tells us about the end at the beginning, but this snake, crafty but too foolish to see, will spend his life always on the move, and always in vain.

Trial Trajectory

We do not yet see the wisdom of this just Judge, but we do see the offspring of the accused. In the Judge’s wholly just and entirely wise verdict, he allows the snake conjugal rights. In the Judge’s wholly just and entirely wise plan, he even puts enmity between the serpentine mass of evil and the woman, and at this the woman’s head perks up, and she wonders. She ponders, “How is this so? He and I now stand opposed? But did we not both stand condemned?” And at this, we all marvel, and wonder alongside the woman. What is this wisdom, or is it foolishness? At the same time, we wonder and shudder anew at the future of enmity, of hatred, of fighting. What can this mean but that the beast will produce children who will wage war?

Thus begins a battle between the woman and her offspring against the snake and his. As we peer into the future and see the woman giving birth to a boy, we see the battle is underway when the snake’s offspring murders the child. The sinister snake smiles as a proud dad, approving of the deed performed by Cain his child. His grin lengthens as his other son, Lamech, kills a nobody and marries two women: two more wombs means double the darts to shoot at the woman’s offspring, amassing an army of evil. He believes he’s made it when the Judge affirms that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of man was only evil continually.

The snake thought, “What is this I see? Not everyone dies? Eight people remain, but why? Well, this was certainly not according to plan, but we can work with it. We’ll just get the leader, Noah, drunk, and he’ll make a mess of it all.” His offspring were making their father proud as they sought to make a name for themselves by becoming godlike children, living above the clouds. Despite the Judge’s attempts at restoring order, the snake was confident he had the upper hand. He remained unaware of the deep wisdom with which the Judge spoke.

An Abraham would be promised to repopulate the land of the Judge, but he was a liar. A Jacob would be called to lead the Judge’s people, but he was a deceiver. A Moses would be called to rescue the Judge’s people from slavery, but he died being denied the land that he was to bring the people into.

What a happy snake we have. It didn’t matter if the Judge’s people eventually took possession of the land. The snake worked all things out according to this wicked counsel. With one ruler after another, one king after another, the Judge’s people, this woman’s children, would go astray, disobey the Judge’s law, and then die. The deadly icing on the cake was when the Judge kicked his people out of his own land, this time, in all appearances, being the last time. And on it would go for centuries: a hot battle between the woman’s offspring and the snake’s, and a battle that clearly had one winner. The snake kept smiling.

Just as the dark cloud threatened to overwhelm the courtroom, the whole world really, we return to the Judge’s words in this verdict. The Judge pronounced with definitive authority to the snake: “You will bruise the woman’s child, but he will bruise your head.” The snake-man ignored that “but,” an all-important word to be sure, but the snake had no interest in matters of eternal importance hanging on a single word. With each apparent victory, the snake would wonder why he hadn’t finished off the woman’s kids. He asked his dark self, “Who is this seed? Onto how many heels of the woman’s children do I need to latch my fangs?”

From the courtroom emerged a man whom no one had yet noticed, but all should have. He began to speak to the Judge as if he had some personal authority in doing so. The onlookers soon realized that this man was in fact the Judge’s Son. Piquing everyone’s interest, this new man begins to offer his life to pay the just penalty for the guilty couple’s crime.

Son: “I’ll serve their sentence, Judge.”

Judge: “It’s the death penalty. Are you sure?”

At this moment, the snake spoke, but this time through the crowd’s collective voice. They all looked at the new man’s face, and in league with the snake, they began to make a commotion whose sound was the highest perversion the mouth had ever uttered.

The Judge bellowed: “Order in the court,” but the people refused to hear his word. They drowned out his voice with their own cries of justice for the snake. United, they spoke, “Look at him. Was he not the innocent one all along? And who is this Son of yours anyway? Where’s he been the whole trial? We don’t trust him.”

The crowd became a mob, and took the Judge’s Son themselves out of the room. Mob justice, and with it mob folly, sure seemed to rule the day, for after unchaining the snake, they let him lead them to put the Judge’s Son to death.

The Son died.

The snake smiled, and was a very happy snake that day. “Some word of judgment,” he mocked. “‘Bruise my head’? Ha!” he scoffed.

Deep Wisdom

What nobody knew was that before this trial of trials, the Judge-Father and the Judge’s Son had a conversation, the wisdom and justice of which are beyond our knowledge. The Judge sought to accomplish two ends: First, he wanted to show compassion to the accused and rightly charged man and his wife, along with their children. Second, he wanted the third accused, the accuser in fact, to come to an end once and for all. And the way to accomplish these two goals was to have the Son, who never broke the law of his Father, and who always obeyed every law, to offer his life by taking their punishment. It was the Father, then, who invited his Son into that courtroom that day to approach the bench; and it was the Son who agreed to enter, come forward, and offer the only remedy to the law’s just demand.

Redemption through Righteousness

Something strange began to happen to that smiling snake when the Son died that day. His smile started to thin and his spirit to shudder. He looked down and saw his hands were chained once again. Confused, he looked around till he saw a light approaching: a real, true light, a light that showed his light to be utter darkness. From a word too wise for hearers to grasp fully, the Son had been raised from the dead, and there he was, light and all, blinding and binding the snake-man, Satan.

The Son came to the man and the woman, took his own radiant robe of righteousness, placed it upon them, and brought them back into the courtroom, where his Judge-Father sat.

Son: “Clear them of all charges, O Judge of all the earth, and do right, I ask.”

Father: “For your sake, and on your righteousness alone, I will do as you ask.”

It was done as asked. It is finished.

Moving Forward

In this brief retelling of the story of the Father-Judge, the Son, humans, and evil, you will admit that more needs to be said, and you would be right. I’ve scratched only the surface of the story. After all, this word is found in Genesis 3, and much Scripture is to be written, and much history remains to be told. But this is the word the Father has given in this verdict, in this word to Satan. Here is a word to Satan that becomes a word for us, for from this word we are assured not only of enmity for a time, but victory for an eternity. These ways are higher than our ways, this wisdom deeper, this justice purer, this grace unmeasured. Praise the Son, Jesus Christ, that true and spotless seed of the woman, for giving us eternal life.