What's the Solution? | Seeing Clearly

The Divine Dilemma

When Satan slithered into the garden and enticed humanity into rebellion, he likely believed he had created an insoluble problem for God.

Consider the predicament from Satan’s perspective. God is holy—utterly pure, unable to tolerate sin in His presence. “Your eyes are too pure to look on evil; you cannot tolerate wrongdoing” (Habakkuk 1:13). His justice demands that sin be punished. Every transgression must be accounted for. No sin can be swept under the cosmic rug or waved away with a dismissive “don’t worry about it.”

Yet God is also love. Not merely loving—love itself. “Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love” (1 John 4:8). He created humanity for relationship. He desires intimacy with the creatures made in His image. His heart yearns to show mercy, to extend grace, to restore what has been broken.

Here, then, is the apparent dilemma. How can God be true to His holiness—pouring out righteous wrath against sin—without crushing the sinners He loves? And how can He be true to His love—extending mercy and forgiveness—without condoning the sin His holiness abhors?

It seems like an impossible equation. If God forgives sin without punishment, He’s unjust. If He punishes sin as it deserves, we’re all destroyed. Satan must have thought he had cornered the Almighty.

What Satan didn’t anticipate was the cross.

At Calvary, God resolved the dilemma in a way no finite mind could have conceived. He did not condone sin—His Son was “torn to shreds,” as one pastor put it, bearing the full weight of divine wrath. And He did not crush the sinners—He crushed His own Son in their place. Justice was satisfied and love was expressed in a single, devastating, glorious act.

“God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). And in that death, we see not a compromise between God’s attributes but their perfect display. The cross is where holiness and love, justice and mercy, wrath and grace all converge in terrible beauty.

This is the solution to what’s wrong with the world.

The Promise Fulfilled

In the previous chapter, we explored how God embedded a promise of redemption in the very moment of pronouncing judgment. Genesis 3:15 declared that the “offspring of the woman” would crush the serpent’s head, even as the serpent struck his heel. Theologians call this the protoevangelium—the first gospel.

But notice the peculiar wording: the offspring of the woman. Biblical genealogies trace through the father. Why specify the maternal line?

Because the deliverer would need to be born outside Adam’s representative headship. As we saw, Adam’s sin was charged to all his descendants. Every human conceived through the normal union of man and woman inherits not only Adam’s DNA but his spiritual condition—a nature bent toward rebellion, a heart curved inward on itself. For a savior to rescue humanity from Adam’s curse, he would need to be human (able to represent us) yet not under Adam’s headship (able to be free from the curse himself).

This is why the virgin birth is not an optional doctrine, a theological nicety we can take or leave. It is essential to the gospel itself.

Isaiah prophesied: “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel” (Isaiah 7:14). A virgin—someone who conceives without the involvement of a human father. This child would be “God with us,” truly divine yet truly human, born of Mary but not generated by a man under Adam’s headship.

Jesus, then, is unique in all of human history. He is the only human being ever to walk the earth who was not under Adam’s biological fatherhood or representative headship. When He was born in Bethlehem, He entered humanity’s story without inheriting humanity’s curse. He was born into the mess but not captive to it.

This is why He alone could save us.

The New and Better Adam

The New Testament presents Jesus not merely as a teacher or example but as a second Adam—a new representative head for a new humanity.

Paul makes this explicit: “For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive” (1 Corinthians 15:21-22). The parallel is intentional. Just as Adam’s actions counted for those he represented, bringing death, so Christ’s actions count for those He represents, bringing life.

But Jesus is not merely a second Adam—He is a better one. Consider the contrasts.

Adam was placed in a garden of abundance, given every good thing, and asked only to trust God on a single point. He had everything. Yet he fell. He reached for autonomy, grasping at equality with God, and in doing so brought ruin upon himself and all his descendants.

Jesus was born into poverty, lived without a place to lay His head, was “despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3). He had nothing—by the world’s standards—yet He never sinned. Where Adam, who had everything, fell, Jesus, who had nothing, stood firm.

Adam blamed his bride when confronted with his failure: “The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate” (Genesis 3:12). Jesus took the blame for His bride—the church—though He was blameless. “Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” (Ephesians 5:25).

Adam sought his own will, reaching for knowledge of good and evil on his own terms. Jesus sought the Father’s will, even when it meant agony: “Not my will, but yours, be done” (Luke 22:42).

Adam’s one act of disobedience brought condemnation to all who are in him. Christ’s one act of righteousness—His entire life of perfect obedience culminating at the cross—brings justification to all who are in Him. “For as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous” (Romans 5:19).

This is the heart of the gospel. Jesus lived the life we should have lived and died the death we deserved to die. His perfect righteousness is offered to us as a gift—not earned by our performance but received by grace through faith.

And notice: Jesus established a new covenant. The old covenant with Adam was based on works—do this and live, disobey and die. Adam failed. But the new covenant is based on grace—Jesus did the work, Jesus obeyed perfectly, and His righteousness is credited to all who trust in Him. When He cried from the cross, “It is finished” (John 19:30), He was not expressing despair but triumph. The work was complete. The covenant was sealed. The way was open.

We are invited to step out from under Adam’s failed representation and into Christ’s successful one. It is, in a sense, a transfer of citizenship—leaving the kingdom of the first Adam, where death reigns, and entering the kingdom of the last Adam, where life and righteousness abound.

The Cross: Where Justice and Love Meet

We must be careful not to sentimentalize the cross.

Contemporary Christianity sometimes presents Jesus’ death primarily as a demonstration of how special we are—God loved us so much that He sent His Son! And that is true. But the cross is first and foremost about God’s glory and character, not our value. If we make the cross primarily about how wonderful we are, we’ve merely dressed up Moral Therapeutic Deism in more sophisticated clothes.

The cross is where God’s character is most fully displayed. Every attribute converges in that moment.

His justice is displayed: sin is not overlooked. God did not simply forgive and forget, as if transgression could be dismissed without consequence. “Without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins” (Hebrews 9:22). The debt was paid in full.

His holiness is displayed: God’s perfect purity could not coexist with sin. Something had to give. Either the sinners would be consumed, or a substitute would bear the weight. Jesus became that substitute, and the Father turned His face away from the Son who had become sin for us.

His wrath is displayed: make no mistake, God’s anger at sin is real. The cross was not play-acting. When Jesus cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46), He was experiencing the full fury of divine judgment against evil. The cup He drank contained the undiluted wrath of God.

And yet His love is displayed: “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). But Jesus went further—He laid down His life for His enemies. “While we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son” (Romans 5:10).

His mercy is displayed: we deserved judgment, and we did not receive it. “He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities” (Psalm 103:10).

His grace is displayed: not only were we spared what we deserved, but we received what we could never earn. Forgiveness. Adoption. Righteousness credited to our account. Eternal life.

Satan thought he had created an impossible dilemma. The cross destroyed it. In one act, God demonstrated that He is both “just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus” (Romans 3:26).

The Ministry of Reconciliation

But the cross is not merely a transaction in the past. It is the foundation of an ongoing work.

Paul writes that “in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them” (2 Corinthians 5:19). The language of reconciliation is personal and relational. Sin had created enmity between God and humanity. The vertical relationship was broken. The cross repaired it.

And the scope of this reconciliation is breathtaking: “For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross” (Colossians 1:19-20). All things. Not just human souls but the entire creation that has been “groaning together in the pains of childbirth” (Romans 8:22). God is putting the world back together.

This reconciliation has an “already and not yet” dimension. Already, those who trust in Christ are reconciled to God—brought from enmity into peace, from alienation into adoption. The relationship is restored. We have access to the Father. We are welcomed into His presence.

And yet the full reconciliation awaits. Isaiah envisioned a day when “the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat” (Isaiah 11:6). A day when thorns and thistles give way to fruitfulness. A day when death itself is swallowed up in victory. We do not yet see that world. Creation still groans. We still groan. But we groan with hope, knowing that what Christ accomplished at the cross will one day be consummated in a new heaven and new earth.

In the meantime, God is at work. Every transformed life is evidence of reconciliation happening now. Every addict set free, every broken marriage restored, every bitter heart softened—these are previews of the final reconciliation, down payments on the coming kingdom.

Consider what this means practically. A young man sits in a car with a pistol, contemplating violence born of despair. Then he encounters the gospel, and something shifts. The pistol is put away. The rage gives way to hope. A potential tragedy becomes a testimony. That is reconciliation happening in real time.

A couple sits across from a mediator, divorce papers ready to sign. Bitterness has calcified over years. Then they encounter Christ—or rediscover Him—and the papers are torn up. Forgiveness flows where resentment had pooled. Two enemies become allies again. That is reconciliation.

A child grows up in chaos, passed from home to home, identity fragmented, trust shattered. Then a family shaped by the gospel opens its doors. Adoption replaces abandonment. Belonging replaces isolation. That is reconciliation.

These stories, multiplied across communities and generations, are God’s ongoing work. The blood shed on the cross continues to ripple outward, mending what sin has torn.

Ambassadors of Restoration

Here is what’s remarkable: God has not only reconciled us to Himself; He has enlisted us in the ministry of reconciliation.

“All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation… Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us” (2 Corinthians 5:18, 20).

An ambassador represents a king in foreign territory. He speaks on behalf of the one who sent him. His message is not his own invention but a proclamation from headquarters.

That is our calling. We who have been reconciled are now sent to proclaim reconciliation. We who have received mercy are now conduits of mercy. The God who made peace with us through the blood of His Son now sends us to announce that peace to a world still at war with its Creator.

This is why the church exists. Not as a weekend social club or a self-help organization but as “headquarters for world reconciliation,” as one pastor put it. We are not merely consumers of religious services; we are agents of cosmic restoration.

This includes caring for creation itself—the “Father’s world” that Jesus made and sustains. It includes pursuing justice and mercy in our communities. It includes building bridges where others build walls. It includes speaking truth when lies prevail and extending grace when condemnation seems easier.

The solution to what’s wrong with the world is not a program or a policy. It is a Person. And those who have encountered that Person are commissioned to introduce Him to others.

From Problem to Identity

If we’re reconciled to God through Christ, everything changes.

We are no longer defined by Adam’s failure but by Christ’s victory. We are no longer counted among the condemned but among the justified. We are no longer enemies but children. Our identity is no longer shaped by the first head who fell but by the second Head who stood firm.

What does this mean for how we see ourselves? That’s where we turn next.

Reflection Questions

The “Divine Dilemma” suggests God faced an apparent conflict between His justice and His love. Before reading this chapter, how did you understand the relationship between God’s wrath against sin and His love for sinners? Has your understanding shifted?
The virgin birth is presented as essential, not optional, to the gospel. Why does Jesus’ birth outside Adam’s headship matter for salvation? How would you explain this to someone who dismisses the virgin birth as mythological?
Consider the contrasts between Adam and Jesus: abundance vs. poverty, blame-shifting vs. blame-taking, self-will vs. Father’s will. Which contrast strikes you most? Why?
The cross is described as primarily displaying God’s character rather than our worth. How does this framing differ from how the cross is often presented? Does it change how you view Good Friday?
What does it mean practically to be an “ambassador of reconciliation” in your current context? Where might God be calling you to announce peace and bring restoration?

Key Takeaways

The cross resolves the apparent dilemma between God’s justice and God’s love: He did not condone sin (Christ bore full judgment) and He did not destroy sinners (Christ took their place).
Jesus’ virgin birth was necessary because it allowed Him to be born outside Adam’s representative headship—fully human yet not under the curse, and therefore able to save those who are.
Jesus is the “new and better Adam”—succeeding where Adam failed, offering His perfect righteousness to all who are in Him by faith.
Through the cross, God is reconciling all things to Himself—an “already and not yet” work that is happening now in transformed lives and will be completed in the new creation.
Those who have been reconciled are commissioned as ambassadors of reconciliation, called to announce peace and participate in God’s restorative work in the world.