Evil And The Rise of The Mark

Introduction

Last week Pastor Matt began our new series Supernatural. We start with God and that out of God’s qualities flow all goodness “the meod tov”, the exceedingly good” of Genesis 1. We were shown that good is not defined by humanity, that good is not the opposite of evil, not merely others-focused, and not a decision to make but a Person to pursue—Jesus Christ Himself.

This week we continue that same story. If last week revealed that everything God made was good, this week asks: How did that goodness become corrupted? What went wrong in God’s good creation?

I believe my experience this past week will provide a visual connecting point to this topic. As you all know Autumn and I were on vacation recently and we got to experience God’s creation in a brand-new way on a cruise to the Caribbean.

The sea stretched endlessly—brilliant blue, peaceful, awe-inspiring. It was the postcard beauty we always dreamed about. Calm and serene it was as if we were sailing on a cloud.

After a time we had to begin our return voyage to Norfolk. Those same waters began to transform into very different waters. They grew murky, unsettled, and finally violent. Waves twenty-feet high crashed against our cabin window. Our captain saw the severity and upon receiving the news that the Coast Guard had closed the shipping lanes in the Chesapeake changed course steering us away from the storm. It meant a substantial delay of a full day— but it kept us safe.

Watching the shift from serene beauty to chaos was indeed, startling. And I thought—this is Genesis 3 in motion. The world God made good turned turbulent through distrust. The calm waters of creation become a storm of rebellion.

C.S. Lewis wrote “”Evil is a parasite, not an original thing. it is the shadow where the light ought to be.”

Evil cannot create; it only corrupts. it is beauty bent, order twisted, love distorted.

I do not have to produce an argument that evil exists in our world—its evidence surrounds us. But as Christians, apologetics prepares us to understand why it is present, and how God’s goodness and grace confront it without contradiction.

Last week Pastor Matt introduced that very question of theodicy— “If God is good and all-powerful, why does evil remain?” Today we follow that question into Scriptures storm, where trust was broken and goodness was vandalized.

The Birth of Distrust

Evil did not begin with the bite of a fruit but with the question: “Did God really say?”

In Hebrew, the word for evil is רַע (raʿ), the exact opposite of tov, the word for good we explored last week. Raʿ doesn’t just mean wickedness — it describes anything that destroys, divides, or deforms what God called good. It is associated with pain that is most severe.

It is chaos instead of order, curse instead of blessing, death instead of life. When Adam and Eve reached for the tree of the knowledge of tov w’raʿ — of good and evil — they weren’t grasping for sin; they were grasping for control. They wanted the right to define what was tov and what was raʿ on their own terms. And that’s where evil began — when the creature decided to decide without the Creator.

That whisper of doubt births into cosmic rebellion. Dietrich Bonhoeffer reminded us that, “If the Creator wishes to create the Creator’s own image, then the Creator must create it free.”

It is freedom that makes love possible, but it also creates the space for distrust. Adam and Eve reached for autonomy instead of intimacy, they reached for control rather than communion. They exercised freedom without faith and fractured everything.

Evil is freedom turned inward. The mirror meant to reflect God’s goodness to the world now reflects self. As Pastor Matt said last week, “In becoming like God, man has become a god against God.”

And once that storm began, it didn’t stay in Eden.

The Growth of Violence

The serpent’s whisper becomes a shout: “Cain spoke to his brother Abel...and while they where in the field, Cain rose up and committed fratricide— he murders his brother, 1st degree murder: intended, planned, and executed. Both mens rea and actus rea. The criminal mind and the criminal act producing a harm.

Evil leaves the garden and becomes a part of human history. Distrust becomes domination; broken worship becomes spilled blood.

Cain’s name can be translated “spear” A symbol of creativity and power—now turned destructive. Cain’s offering was not rejected for its contents but for Cain’s intent. Cain’s heart was far from God, Cain gave without trust.

John Wesley uses these words to describe evil “the self-willed internal action of a creature whose pride laid open the door to desire.”

That pride opened the door for Cain and violence walked through it. But scripture does not stop there; it traces Cain’s descendants as a genealogy of corruption. Between Cain and Noah stands Tubal-Cain, “the forger of all instruments of bronze and iron.” This isn’t just metallurgy, it’s an etiology explaining how human creativity becomes capable of destruction. Cain’s action became a way of being. Using forging for violence against people instead of tools to cultivate resources.

Evil evolves—from personal act to structural system. Ingenuity without holiness becomes idolatry of power. Here we witness systemic evil—capability divorced from character.

Then comes Lamech, Cain’s descendent and Scripture’s first poet. But instead of praise, his song glorifies revenge:

“I have killed a man for wounding me… If Cain is avenged sevenfold, then Lamech seventy-sevenfold.”

Lamech brags of murder and multiplies vengeance. He takes Cain’s fear and inflates it tenfold. Where Cain ran away and hid in shame, Lamech revels in sin.

Seven marks completeness; “seventy-seven” exaggerates it grotesquely. This is evil celebrated—violence institutionalized.

From Cain’s rock to Tubal-Cain’s forge, to Lamech’s revenge, evil matures into culture. Technologym art, and pride converge to magnify sin.

Pastor Matt told us last week, evil is never equal to God—it is a parasite feeding on the good. Now that parasite has become a system.

Systemic evil exists when the very structures of society are set against Godly values and bring harm to others.

This is the genealogy of rebellion, creativity without conscience, power without purity, music without morality.

The Spread of Corruption

Finally, Genesis 6 starts a new motion. It says “Every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart was only evil continually.” yet— “But Noah found favor in the eyes of the LORD.’ So how is evil combated?

What is happening hear? Grace floats above judgement. Bonhoeffer said, “God’s look sees the world as good as created— even where it is a fallen world.” (Creation: Rise and Fall)

God’s grief is not indifference; its wounded love. The flood washes— but mercy rebuilds.

The Faces of Evil Today

Our Baptismal Covenant liturgy has a three-fold rejection of evil.

Cosmic Evil—the spiritual opposition that prowls (1 Peter 5:8)

Systemic Evil—societies that legislate or normalize injustice.

Personal Evil— the appetites we refuse to surrender: greed, lust, pride, and vengeance.

These currents crash together like storm-tossed waves, yet Christ still speaks, “Peace be still” Grace conquers evil! The power of God at work.

Grace Greater Than Evil

The sobering reality of being on that ship in the storm was my utter helpless estate. I had no power to muster my own rescue — no authority to steer, no strength to calm the waves. I needed someone greater than myself to intervene. I had to rely on the wisdom and command of another. I had to trust the captain.

John Wesley wrote, “Liberty went away with virtue; instead of an indulgent master it was under a merciless tyrant.” Sin makes slaves of free people — but grace restores the freedom we forfeited. By surrendering to the authority of another, my security became reality.

And that’s exactly what grace does in the human soul. God’s grace is not a single moment — it is the continual movement of His love drawing us from chaos to calm, from separation to salvation, from rebellion to restoration.

Prevenient Grace is the God who comes searching in the storm. It is the voice calling, (הִנֵּנִי) “Where are you?” in the garden. *Before we even knew we were lost, God was already at work charting a course toward rescue. Prevenient grace goes before us — whispering through conscience, stirring through creation, inviting the heart to trust again.

Justifying Grace is the moment the Captain takes the helm. It is the surrender that says, “I cannot save myself.” Here, at the Cross, Christ bears the full weight of our sin and steers us away from the rocks of judgment. In that instant, the distance between God and humanity is bridged — our guilt removed, our relationship restored. *Grace does not ignore sin; it overcomes it by the power of divine love.

Sanctifying Grace is the steady hand of God that keeps us on course. It is the Spirit working within us to reshape our hearts and renew our desires until the image of God shines through again. Grace not only saves us from evil — it transforms us for good. It takes the frightened passenger and makes them a faithful sailor — one who knows the Captain and trusts His voice even when the seas rise again.

Grace, in all its forms, is God’s relentless mercy pulling creation toward its original design — meod tov — “very good.” It is the steady movement of divine love reclaiming what evil sought to destroy.

C. S. Lewis once said, “The stronger the light, the sharper the shadow.” The Cross is that light — and the shadow of evil has lost its bite.

What does this look like?

In Scripture, the sea often represents chaos and death—wild, untamed, and without form. From the opening verses of Genesis, the Spirit of God sweeps over the waters, bringing order out of the chaos. In Job 38, God reminds us that He alone sets the boundaries of the sea, saying, “This far you may come and no farther.”

The night our ship was rocked by the storm, I thought of that truth. Here we were, aboard a massive vessel built by human hands, yet the waves toyed with us as if we were nothing more than a leaf upon the water. I was able to share with other passengers that the power of chaos and death will always upend the movement of humanity—no matter how strong or sophisticated our vessels—unless we allow God, the One who conquers all chaos and death, to bring us rescue.

And that is exactly what He has done in Christ.

At the Cross, God entered the storm.

Evil is temporary; love is eternal. Evil feeds on fear but starves in grace. Evil thrives in darkness but dies in light.

At the Cross, God entered the storm. Where Adam’s hand reached for the fruit of independence, Christ stretched out his hands for nails of surrender. Where Cain took life, Christ gave His own. Where chaos ruled, grace restored peace.

Romans 12 : 21 — “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

Just as our captain turned the ship to safer waters, so Christ redirects our course toward redemption. He doesn’t promise calm seas, but He promises His presence—and His presence is enough.

Reflections

Where have I believed the serpent’s whisper of distrust? Where have I, like Cain, allowed pride to steer me? Where might I need Christ to take the helm again?

(Pause for prayer or altar response.)

Closing

There is a contrast between Lamech and Jesus:

Jesus said to Peter, “Not seven times, but seventy-seven times.” Where Lamech multiplied vengeance, Christ multiplies forgiveness. Grace rewrites the math of the world. That is the final word over evil.

But hear this, church—evil does not get the last wave. The storm still rages, the waters still rise, the world still trembles. Yet the same God who set boundaries for the sea has drawn a line through the Cross and declared, “This far you may come and no farther.” The floodwaters of sin and death break upon that line and go no further.

The serpent’s whisper has met its silence in the voice that said, “It is finished.” The spear that struck our Savior became the tool of our salvation. The chaos that sought to drown us became the place where grace walks on water.

So take courage— when the seas of life swell and the darkness rolls in, remember that Christ is still at the helm. He has conquered raʿ, the chaos, the curse, the calamity. And when the final storm passes, when all creation is calm once more, we will stand in the stillness of a new heaven and a new earth and hear again the words spoken at the beginning: “It is very good.”

Amen.