No, this isn’t about a bike crash, or even my wife’s recently broken ribs. Those things are never so fortunate as this, if anyone could find any blessings in them at all.
This is about the Latin words felix culpa, which means as the title says — a “fortunate fall.” A “happy failure.” Maybe something like a “blessing in disguise” (but in reality, that’s far too weak).
A Christian might be thinking Romans 8:28, which says “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” We see this as a promise (we know) that even in the bad times, God is working in us and on us for good.
But that’s not it, really. Felix culpa goes back to the beginning, to Adam and Eve — that fall.
We so often hear the atheist or agnostic argument — if God is good, why so much suffering? Why the evil of this world? Christians can point back at the fall in the garden and say “we brought this upon ourselves,” but why even that? A close reading of the account shows that Adam stood there by Eve as the serpent did his work – “she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate.” But hold on…God could have stopped this himself. The imagery of him “walking in the garden” is simply a device to demonstrate our shame in hiding from him, so he was also there.
The argument might go that God could have avoided the whole suffering thing by creating us as automatons who loved him unconditionally. But does that sound like a good thing? I don’t think so. The secret things are known only by God (Deuteronomy 29:29), and we will never understand as we walk this earth. The Christian should also know that it is God that has put eternity in our hearts, and yet we cannot understand what he has been doing from start to finish (Ecclesiastes 3:11). “Eternity in our hearts.” The short phrase resonates strongly with how we feel. When I read it, I sense a longing in my heart…a questioning, a wondering, about why things are the way they are and asking where we went off the path? Sure, it sounds dour and pessimistic, and I’m generally an optimistic person. I love people, even though my introversion means I can’t normally stand to be around too many of them for too long. But even those who live the best of lives (and this is entirely a subjective call) have to sense that something is missing in those lives.
These verses show us there are things we won’t understand, although we desire deeply in our hearts to know. Things just aren’t quite right at one time or another (or another, and another) in our lives, but we can’t figure it out. Why? Why this suffering? Why this evil around us? It all goes back to that fall.
The late Tom Shrader (one of my favorite pastors) used to say, “If aliens landed on earth and you gave them a Bible, but ripped out Genesis chapter 3, they’d read it and say, ‘what the heck happened!?!’” Genesis 3 happened. In chapters 1 and 2, everything is awesome. God has created an incredible universe with a beautiful and wonderful garden on this small planet earth. Trees, flowers, animals, the works – and all beautiful to perfection. And here is this man and woman, walking around naked and unashamed. It’s all so wonderful. But jump past chapter 3 and it takes us less than 15 verses to run the gamut of anger, murder, and banishment to a life of wandering in a hard and barren land. And it’s been downhill since then. Paul tells us in Romans chapter 8 again (in verses 19 to 22) that creation itself “waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now.”
The world really is a mess. Even if it looks peachy to some, there will always be that feeling that there’s something amiss under the exact same circumstances for others. Just reflect on your own political perspectives (as an example). If your candidate wins, life is great. If they lose, it’s the end of the world (I’ll give you the answer here: we’re all at least half right, but it isn’t the good half for any of us). Some might chalk it up to simple entropy. Others get closer by blaming human nature. Any way we look at it though, the world is full of death; and to put it bluntly, without God, that death is unavoidable and ultimate.
But for some, there is hope. Felix culpa. This fortunate fall. Why fortunate? Because without it, we would never know the true joy of redemption and rescue by a creator who loves us so perfectly that the garden in which he originally created us will pale in its beauty compared to the reality of his eternal glory in a place from which we can no longer be cast out. The Bible gives us just a hint of this in its last book: “And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.’” (Revelation 21:3-4).
And more: “No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever.” (Revelation 22:3-5).
These are poor descriptions of the reality some of us will someday face. Our language itself is tainted and groaning, grasping for ways of expression that still can’t come close to what we will truly experience. It tries its best to tell us of something better. Something amazing. Something so far beyond our weak concept of perfection that to be there for a billion years will be as a blip in the face of eternity. Here, we suffer through a short moment that is merely the end of a fall that will be long forgotten. A felix culpa that we’ll finally understand from the first moment our true happiness begins.
Turn the lights on, look at what I have
See the twisted trophies of a dead man
Countless stories tell of sin and pain
But they sing the sweetness of my Savior's grace
I'm a torn man, spirit fighting flesh
There's a battle raging deep in my chest
And all that haunts me, all that leaves a stain
Only sings the sweetness of my Savior's grace
A fortunate fall
My sins are stories of grace to recall
A fortunate fall
I glory in my sins forgiven
Jesus bought me, and now I am His
Dying with Him, in His death I now live
And all my vices, to which I was chained
Only speak the sweetness of my Savior's grace
A fortunate fall
My sins are stories of grace to recall
A fortunate fall
I glory in my sins forgiven
And still I'm a wicked, wretched man
I do everything I hate
I am fighting to be God
I seethe and claw and thrash and shake
I have killed and stacked the dead
On a throne from which I reign
In the end I just want blood
And with His blood my hands are stained
See the God who reigns on high
He has opened His own veins
From His wounds a rushing torrent
That can wash it all away
Grace upon grace
Upon grace upon grace
Grace, oh!
Grace upon grace upon grace
Grace upon grace upon grace
Fall, it's a fortunate fall