Preface for the Child of God

My greatest insight about the saying, "Learn what this means, I will have mercy; not sacrifice," came by way of a very nasty dog. She was determined to bite me every time I was around her, which was way too often. Had she been mine when the old man in me was in charge, I'd have carted her off to the animal shelter to be put down with barely a second thought. She was a very nasty dog.

One day I'd simply had enough of her. I'd tried everything I could think of, and nothing had won her over or made her lose interest in going after whatever part of me was most accessible. She had it in her mind that she was going to bite me, and she knew that I knew it and that I could mount no socially acceptable defense. When I was away, I'm certain that she looked forward to the resumption of our acrimonious game. She had made a believer of me: regardless of any countermeasure I might mount, she was going to bite me. It had become her pleasure, nasty dog that she was.

I was already short-tempered and tired on the last day she bit me. She came at me for the last time, and I just didn't have the wherewithal to resist. If I had had more energy, I might have killed her; but worn out, I gave up all thought of defense or escape: truly, she had won! Not thinking, really, I met her snarling charge by extending my hand to her charge; and I just let her bite, and bite, and bite. Luckily for me, she was small nasty dog, and so her nasty teeth were small, also. I'd lost count of the number of bites when-- with my hand still in her maw-- she looked up at me out of the corner of her eyes and simply stopped. She may have been crestfallen; I don't remember, but it was clear to me that she'd been undone by the absence of my resistance. Her realization of that change was her undoing as a nasty dog, and it led to her transformation.

The thrill she used to have, wagging her tail while biting me, had disappeared; and it had taken the nasty old dog she had been with it. From the moment of that last bite, we became something like old friends who shared intimate history of the same battles, and her nastiness had been replaced with nostalgia. Her owner was so offended by the change in her personality that he persuaded me to make the unfaithful beast my own pet. These changes came because, at my wit's end, I had offered my hand to an offender in willing sacrifice.

The story seems to trivialize spiritual matters, but important precepts were involved. Concerning encounters with ungodly assaults against the spirit, teachings from the gospel and the epistles seem to differ. Y'shua taught that we are not to resist evil; for our enemies can do nothing against us, unless the Father permits it. To offer opposition, therefore, is lack of faith; and the just shall live by faith. The apostle James taught that if we resist evil, it will flee from us. Yes, and it will compound itself with other evil spirits, in preparation  for its return! We are to take care, how we hear.