This theological correction is long overdue. Sin does not separate us from God. We sin because we feel separated from God. God has not changed since Jesus. He is always the same God. He loved every human born before Jesus exactly the same way He loves everyone now. The difference is that our awareness of that love has matured. The atonement sacrifice matured into the full expression of God's willingness to forgive us our sins in the messiah, Jesus, the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. It has matured because God has been growing this awareness of His love in us all along.
God has always based a harmonious relationship with us on our trust in Him, in His grace. God was never a God of legalism. Paul speaks at great length to make this point. The law was given to give us an awareness of just how damaged we humans have become and in so doing lead us to the cure for that damage, Jesus, the full expression of God's willingness to forgive us our sins. All of this should let us see just how evil the doctrine that sin separates us from God has been and still is.
John, I just want to say thank you. This is beautifully articulated, and I’m so grateful for the way you framed it—not just as a doctrinal correction, but as a long-maturing awareness of God’s unchanging love.
The atonement isn’t about changing God’s mind about us—it’s about changing our minds about God. And the idea that we sin because we feel separated, rather than sin causing God to abandon us, is such a powerful reframing of the human condition and the invitation of grace.
Like you said, Paul goes to great lengths to show us that the law was not the foundation of relationship—it was a guide to reveal our need. But the foundation has always been trust. Even Abraham’s righteousness was rooted in trust, not moral perfection.
Thanks again for your voice in this conversation. These are the kinds of reflections that open doors for healing theology—and for people to finally rest in the truth that they’ve always been loved, always been seen, and never been abandoned.
Exactly. The teaching of what sin really is, has been flawed for a long time. There is a separation. But, it is not the way we have been taught. Obviously God is on the other side of the veil. He came to die for us to bring us to Himself. But, the Bible is clear that he hears every idle word, and there is no place we can hide from Him. He comes running when we call out and seeks to save and help us. When we sin, it causes problems in our lives, spiritually and physically. He is trying to save and help us because of that.
You just led me to fall in love with God all over again. When Adam and Eve did the deed and hid, God knew it. Yet He went looking for them in the cool of the day.
Thanks for this Paul. I’m really benefiting from your articles. You show who the God of Jesus really is, especially that there is no shame and that shame is no match for his love. I appreciate your ministry.
Oh my goodness, THANK YOU. This confirms so much for me, and puts into words exactly one of the things I've been processing in my reconstruction process. I appreciate how logical and biblically based this is.
“Sin separates us from God” is the theological equivalent of telling a fish it has to earn water. In the Gospel of Mary, the Teacher says, “There is no sin… it is you who make sin exist.” That’s right—Jesus ghosted the guilt industry. God doesn’t evacuate when you screw up. That shame? That’s the illusion. The real exile is forgetting your divine origin, not offending some cosmic dad with boundary issues. Jesus didn’t run from sin—he ran toward you. Not to punish, but to wake you up. Nothing separates you from Love. Not sin. Not shame. Not even theology.
I’m stunned. I never thought I would encounter a lie that sounds so much like scriptural truth.
My first red flag was “God is like Jesus.” Neither God nor Jesus are ‘LIKE’ each other. Jesus IS God the Son. God the Father is not God the Son. They are separate but equal. The word “like” has no place in describing their relationship.
Some people may argue that there’s nuance in the word “separation.” I might agree because of scriptures like Psalm 139:7-10, “Where can I go from Your Spirit….”
However…..
1. Light cannot dwell with darkness.
2. Sin caused Adam and Eve to hide from God’s presence in the garden of Eden. God sent them out of the garden. So sin DID change their experience of God’s presence in their lives. I call that separation.
3. We read in scripture of men who lose their clarity of mind because they didn’t follow God’s law: Esau, Saul, Nebuchadnezzar. So sin DID change their relationship with God. I call that separation.
4. The Holy of Holies was separated from the Outer Court and Holy Place. Unholiness (sin) was symbolically quarantined.
5. Jesus cried on the cross, “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?” It was because Jesus bore our SIN. The temple veil was torn because Jesus paid the PENALTY of our sin. The penalty being SEPARATION from God.
6. Dying in our sin is separation from God eternally.
Make no mistake…..
*SIN separates us from God but has no power to KEEP us separated because of CHRIST’S work on the cross.
*BECAUSE sin separates us from God, “For there is one God and one MEDIATOR between God and mankind, the man Christ Jesus.” 1 Timothy 2:5 “Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.” Acts 4:12
To say sin doesn’t separate us from God is to discount the entire gospel so beautifully woven throughout scripture.
Thank you for replying in such detail, Paul. With more explanation, I agree with you.
Separation and absence are good words to differentiate.
Although we use different words and emphasize the gospel with different angles, it seems like we agree on the gospel message. We are sinners. Christ has set us free from the power of sin by His death and resurrection and we have direct access to the Father through His Son.
Hi Naylene, thank you for your heartfelt engagement. I can tell how seriously you take Scripture and the gospel, and I truly appreciate the time you took to respond so thoroughly.
I think we may be seeing things through different theological lenses—and that’s okay. There’s room for dialogue in the body of Christ, and I hope this can be one of those sacred conversations.
When I say, “God is like Jesus,” I’m echoing Hebrews 1:3: “The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being.” The idea isn’t that Jesus is merely “like” God in a comparative sense—but that in Jesus, we see God’s character most clearly. As Colossians 1:15 also says, “He is the image of the invisible God.” I’m affirming the Trinity here—not minimizing it. But I’m also affirming that if we want to understand what God is like, we start with Jesus.
As for separation, I hear your perspective. Many have been taught to equate sin with relational separation from God—and I understand why, especially when drawing from texts like Genesis 3 or Jesus’ cry from the cross. But I think we sometimes confuse the human perception of distance with actual divine absence.
Adam and Eve hid—but God came looking.
David sinned grievously—but wrote Psalm 139 in awe that God was still with him.
Jesus cried “Why have you forsaken me?”—and yet was quoting Psalm 22, which ends in trust and vindication.
And yes, the veil tore—but not to symbolically complete separation. It was torn to declare access.
The heart of the gospel, for me, is Emmanuel—God with us, even in our sin. Jesus doesn’t mediate from afar. He steps into the mess. He sits with sinners. He dies among criminals. He goes to the depths to bring us home.
So rather than sin causing God to turn away, I believe the cross shows us a God who refuses to turn away, even when we do.
To say sin doesn’t separate us isn’t to dismiss the gospel—it’s to proclaim that sin, as damaging and real as it is, never has the final word. Jesus does.
And Jesus reveals a God who runs toward us, not away.
Blessings to you as you keep seeking truth and living it. I’m grateful for your voice.
Thanks for sharing this. I can see the heart behind it; a deep desire to remind us that God is never far off, even when we fall. That truth is beautiful and needed. Romans 8:38–39 gives me great comfort too: nothing can separate us from His love.
But I think the story is fuller than this.
Scripture is clear that sin creates a real rupture; not in God’s love for us, but in our fellowship with Him. Isaiah 59:2 isn’t about a fragile Father who withdraws, but a holy God whose face we can’t rightly behold when we’ve turned away. The exile from Eden, the torn veil, the cry of Christ on the cross — they all speak to the terrible weight of sin and the distance it brings. If there was no separation, there would be no need for reconciliation.
But praise God, that is exactly what Jesus came to offer. While we were enemies, He reconciled us (Romans 5:10). The cross doesn’t just show that God is with us — it shows that He made a way to bring us home.
So yes, sin separates, but Jesus bridges. And in Him, we are held fast.
Thank you so much for this generous and wise response. I can feel the care you bring to both Scripture and the gospel, and I wholeheartedly resonate with your desire to hold the tension between God’s holiness and God’s nearness.
I think you’re right to name that sin has consequences—that it ruptures fellowship, distorts perception, and deeply wounds both us and our world. But where we may differ slightly is in how we define separation. You beautifully said, “Sin creates a real rupture—not in God’s love for us, but in our fellowship with Him.” That’s such a meaningful distinction, and I think we’re actually closer in heart than it might appear on the surface.
To me, the distinction is this: sin doesn’t separate God from us—it causes us to withdraw from God.
Like Adam and Eve, we hide. Like Cain, we flee. Like the prodigal son, we leave home. And yet, in every story, God is the one who comes searching.
Isaiah 59:2, which you referenced, speaks of our iniquities hiding God’s face—but I don’t believe that’s about God abandoning us. I see it as an expression of the relational disconnection we create, not one God chooses.
In that sense, you’re right: there is a need for reconciliation, but not because God walked away. Rather, we’ve lost our way—and Jesus came not to reopen a closed door, but to walk through the darkness and lead us home. That’s what makes the cross so stunning to me: it’s not the symbol of divine abandonment, but of relentless presence.
So yes—sin feels like separation. But the good news is, even in that feeling, God is already with us, reconciling, restoring, and refusing to let go.
Thank you again for such a rich and respectful engagement. I’m grateful for conversations like this—where truth and grace meet.
Paul, thank you. I so appreciate the way you responded; such care and clarity in your words. I’m grateful we’ve been able to hold this conversation gently, without needing to fight for our voices.
I do think we’re close in heart ; we both see a God who comes after us, who doesn’t abandon, who longs for us to return. But for me, the cross isn’t just God showing up in our darkness; it’s Jesus standing in our place. That moment when He cries, “Why have You forsaken Me?” I can’t see it as metaphor. I see it as holy judgement, fully poured out on the only One who could carry it.
And that’s where our understanding parts ways a little bit I think.
You’ve described love as relentless presence and that’s beautiful. But the love I’ve come to know is even more than that. It’s redemptive. It doesn’t just walk with me while I’m lost, it brings me home, at a great cost. It doesn’t just accompany; it atones. And that makes it, to me, the most powerful love there is.
I think that’s what unsettled me, not your heart, but the possibility of selling Jesus short, even in our effort to lift Him up. The cross isn’t just a comfort; it’s a rescue. And that’s the part I can’t let go of.
Thank you again for this conversation. It’s rare to find spaces like this so full of grace, and yet still hungry for truth.
Thank you so much for this response—and for the grace, thoughtfulness, and courage you’ve brought to the conversation. I feel deeply honored by the way you’ve engaged: not to win an argument, but to witness to Christ. That kind of dialogue is rare and sacred.
You’re absolutely right—we are close in heart. We both trust in a God who pursues, who stays, who saves. And I hear the weight and wonder in your words about the cross—not just as comfort, but as rescue, as substitution, as holy judgment poured out in love. That’s powerful. I don’t take that lightly at all.
Where we may part—slightly—is not in the depth of the cross, but in the framing of how God rescues. I used to hold tightly to the substitutionary view you described, and I still honor what it seeks to express: the gravity of sin and the overwhelming cost of love.
But what changed for me wasn’t a desire to make the cross softer—it was a growing conviction that Jesus doesn’t save us from God. He reveals God. That in the cry, “Why have You forsaken Me?”, we’re not hearing divine abandonment, but Jesus entering the fullness of human forsakenness with us, so that we would never be alone in it again.
I believe the cross is atonement—absolutely. But I see atonement not as wrath satisfied through punishment, but as love poured out to heal what has been broken, to bring home what has been lost, and to reweave communion where separation has reigned. For me, the cross is not God turning away from Jesus—it’s God in Christ stepping into the furthest edges of our alienation to bring us home.
So yes—rescue. Yes—atonement. Yes—costly love.
And I would just add: relentless presence is part of that rescue.
The power of the cross is not only that Jesus died for us, but that He refused to abandon us—even in death.
Thank you again for holding this space with such integrity and kindness. I’m grateful for your voice, your faith, and your hunger for truth that doesn’t settle for shallow answers. May we both keep walking deeper into the mystery of the cross—and the love that still holds us there.
It’s such a rare gift to disagree like this, Paul, with gentleness, honour, and a shared desire to see Jesus more clearly. I’ve felt the sincerity of your words, and I’m truly grateful for the way you’ve spoken with such care throughout.
“Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush Him…” (Isaiah 53:10) - not because the Father turned away in cruelty, but because sin truly did separate us from Him, and He would not leave us there. Christ bore that separation in our place. Not just the presence of God in my pain, but the judgment of God poured out on the Son so I could be brought near. That’s the gospel that steadies me.
Though we remain in different understandings for now, my friend, I’m at peace knowing we’re both fixing our eyes on Jesus. We’re both seeking to surrender. And I believe if we continue to listen - truly listen - to the One whose Word is sovereign, whose authority is sure, and who is both the Author and the Perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:2), He will lead us into all truth.
One thing I will hold with joy is, since we are both in Christ, then we are co-heirs with Him - children of the same Father, welcomed into the same kingdom (Romans 8:17).
Thank you again for speaking so openly and honourably. I’m richer for it.
I don’t know where to begin. 1. Sin caused Adam and Eve to hide from God’s presence in the garden of Eden. God sent them out of the garden. So sin DID change their experience of God’s presence in their lives.
2. We read in scripture of men who lose their clarity of mind because they didn’t follow God’s law: Esau, Saul, Nebuchadnezzar. So sin DID change their relationship with God.
3. Jesus cried on the cross, “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?” It was because Jesus bore our sins.
* SIN separates us from God but has no power to keep us separated because of Christ’s work on the cross. Light cannot dwell with darkness. Dying in our sin is separation from God eternally.
Thanks for jumping in, Lyle. That’s a distinction many of us were taught—that sin separates the “unsaved” from God, and only after salvation does relationship begin. But I’d gently offer another possibility:
What if God’s presence precedes our salvation?
The Scriptures are full of stories where God draws near to people before they’re “saved” in any formal sense—Hagar in the wilderness, Jonah in his rebellion, the Samaritan woman at the well, Zacchaeus in his tree, Saul on the road to Damascus.
Romans 5:8 reminds us that “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” God didn’t wait for us to clean up or believe first—He moved toward us in love, even then.
So yes, I believe salvation matters deeply. But I don’t believe Jesus comes into our lives only after we cross some theological finish line. I believe He’s been present and pursuing us all along, working for our healing even before we knew what to call it.
To me, that’s grace—and it’s bigger and better than I used to think.
Appreciate your comment and the conversation it opens up!
Sin is merely the ability to activate “will” or consciousness outside of Yahweh’s Will or “mind” (see verses related to the mind of Christ).
That’s why He blocked access to the Tree of Life, He did not want us to risk becoming immortal embedded with sin consciousness (“knowledge of good and evil”).
I’ve spoken extensively on this subject and you’re right, its not “sin” that ever separated us but our willful thoughts, words, and deeds that invited us to hide or attempt to separate ourselves from our Dad.
While Satan’s first sin was pride, our first sin was judgment. We judged “good and evil” hence creating a separate consciousness from the Father after God had already declared all of creation GOOD.
It was not within our original design to judge good from evil, and hence that created the “separation” (see Jesus’s words on judgment in the NT and greater insight will be found as we are “judged according to the same measure we judge by” and “forgive your brother so that your Father may forgive you” - all of modern neuroscience and psychology resonates with these truths as well).
Sean, this is such a rich and expansive reflection—thank you for bringing your voice and insight to the conversation.
I especially appreciate how you frame the root of sin as a rupture in consciousness—a shift away from union with the mind of Christ toward self-determined judgment and control. That insight about our first sin being judgment rather than merely disobedience is profound. It reframes the Genesis narrative not as a legal transgression, but as a tragic departure from trust and communion.
Your point about God blocking access to the Tree of Life as a protective act—not punitive but preventive—really aligns with what I’ve been wrestling with: that separation is something we enact, not something God imposes. It’s the shame-spiral of hiding, not the wrath of abandonment.
And yes—the neuroscience is catching up to the gospel! The more we understand trauma, attachment, and the human brain, the more it becomes clear: judgment breeds separation, but grace restores connection. Jesus didn’t come to reinforce the knowledge of good and evil—He came to liberate us from it, to bring us back into alignment with the Father’s love.
Thank you for bringing such theological and psychological depth to the conversation. I feel like we’re standing at the edge of a much bigger story—and I’m grateful for your witness within it.
Thanks for asking such a thoughtful clarifying question. What I’m saying is that sin doesn’t separate any person from God’s presence or love. Scripture is clear: nothing can separate us from the love of God (Romans 8:38–39). That includes sin.
But sin does affect us—it clouds our vision, hardens our hearts, and creates a kind of spiritual disconnection on our end. It’s not that God walks away from us; it’s that we turn away, hide, or assume we’re too far gone. That’s what happened in the garden with Adam and Eve—they hid, but God came looking.
So yes, sin creates a kind of “felt” separation—but not an actual abandonment by God. Whether we’re in Christ or not, God is always the one pursuing, always inviting, always present. And for those in Christ, we are empowered by grace to respond with repentance and return to communion—not to earn closeness, but to remember it.
It’s not “sin doesn’t matter.” It matters deeply. But sin never has the power to un-belong us from the One who already called us beloved.
If sin in no way separates us from God, why do the Scriptures speak of salvation in terms of being reconciled to God, brought near, and being drawn to Him?
Beautifully put, Timothy—and I’d say yes and no, depending on how we define “relationship.”
Yes—in the sense that God’s posture toward humanity never changes. God has always been the One who seeks, who comes near, who loves first. That’s why we see phrases like “God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself” (2 Corinthians 5:19), not reconciling Himself to the world. The movement is always from God to us, never the reverse.
But also no—because while God hasn’t changed, we have. The shift is real. It’s not merely cognitive (as if salvation is just learning a new fact). It’s relational, participatory, and transformational. As our awareness grows, so does our trust, our love, our ability to live in communion. And that communion feels like a new relationship because we’re finally stepping into the truth that was always there.
Think of it like this:
A child estranged from their parent by misunderstanding might believe they’re unloved. The parent never stopped loving—but the reunion, the reconciliation, feels like everything has changed. And in a very real way, it has.
Salvation is not just about clarity—it’s about responding to the love that’s always been pursuing us… and being transformed by that encounter.
This theological correction is long overdue. Sin does not separate us from God. We sin because we feel separated from God. God has not changed since Jesus. He is always the same God. He loved every human born before Jesus exactly the same way He loves everyone now. The difference is that our awareness of that love has matured. The atonement sacrifice matured into the full expression of God's willingness to forgive us our sins in the messiah, Jesus, the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. It has matured because God has been growing this awareness of His love in us all along.
God has always based a harmonious relationship with us on our trust in Him, in His grace. God was never a God of legalism. Paul speaks at great length to make this point. The law was given to give us an awareness of just how damaged we humans have become and in so doing lead us to the cure for that damage, Jesus, the full expression of God's willingness to forgive us our sins. All of this should let us see just how evil the doctrine that sin separates us from God has been and still is.
John, I just want to say thank you. This is beautifully articulated, and I’m so grateful for the way you framed it—not just as a doctrinal correction, but as a long-maturing awareness of God’s unchanging love.
The atonement isn’t about changing God’s mind about us—it’s about changing our minds about God. And the idea that we sin because we feel separated, rather than sin causing God to abandon us, is such a powerful reframing of the human condition and the invitation of grace.
Like you said, Paul goes to great lengths to show us that the law was not the foundation of relationship—it was a guide to reveal our need. But the foundation has always been trust. Even Abraham’s righteousness was rooted in trust, not moral perfection.
Thanks again for your voice in this conversation. These are the kinds of reflections that open doors for healing theology—and for people to finally rest in the truth that they’ve always been loved, always been seen, and never been abandoned.
Exactly. The teaching of what sin really is, has been flawed for a long time. There is a separation. But, it is not the way we have been taught. Obviously God is on the other side of the veil. He came to die for us to bring us to Himself. But, the Bible is clear that he hears every idle word, and there is no place we can hide from Him. He comes running when we call out and seeks to save and help us. When we sin, it causes problems in our lives, spiritually and physically. He is trying to save and help us because of that.
You just led me to fall in love with God all over again. When Adam and Eve did the deed and hid, God knew it. Yet He went looking for them in the cool of the day.
Thanks for this Paul. I’m really benefiting from your articles. You show who the God of Jesus really is, especially that there is no shame and that shame is no match for his love. I appreciate your ministry.
Amen. So beautiful.
Yes, and amen!
Oh my goodness, THANK YOU. This confirms so much for me, and puts into words exactly one of the things I've been processing in my reconstruction process. I appreciate how logical and biblically based this is.
“Sin separates us from God” is the theological equivalent of telling a fish it has to earn water. In the Gospel of Mary, the Teacher says, “There is no sin… it is you who make sin exist.” That’s right—Jesus ghosted the guilt industry. God doesn’t evacuate when you screw up. That shame? That’s the illusion. The real exile is forgetting your divine origin, not offending some cosmic dad with boundary issues. Jesus didn’t run from sin—he ran toward you. Not to punish, but to wake you up. Nothing separates you from Love. Not sin. Not shame. Not even theology.
—Virgin Monk Boy
Wow. Much needed, thanks!
I’m stunned. I never thought I would encounter a lie that sounds so much like scriptural truth.
My first red flag was “God is like Jesus.” Neither God nor Jesus are ‘LIKE’ each other. Jesus IS God the Son. God the Father is not God the Son. They are separate but equal. The word “like” has no place in describing their relationship.
Some people may argue that there’s nuance in the word “separation.” I might agree because of scriptures like Psalm 139:7-10, “Where can I go from Your Spirit….”
However…..
1. Light cannot dwell with darkness.
2. Sin caused Adam and Eve to hide from God’s presence in the garden of Eden. God sent them out of the garden. So sin DID change their experience of God’s presence in their lives. I call that separation.
3. We read in scripture of men who lose their clarity of mind because they didn’t follow God’s law: Esau, Saul, Nebuchadnezzar. So sin DID change their relationship with God. I call that separation.
4. The Holy of Holies was separated from the Outer Court and Holy Place. Unholiness (sin) was symbolically quarantined.
5. Jesus cried on the cross, “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?” It was because Jesus bore our SIN. The temple veil was torn because Jesus paid the PENALTY of our sin. The penalty being SEPARATION from God.
6. Dying in our sin is separation from God eternally.
Make no mistake…..
*SIN separates us from God but has no power to KEEP us separated because of CHRIST’S work on the cross.
*BECAUSE sin separates us from God, “For there is one God and one MEDIATOR between God and mankind, the man Christ Jesus.” 1 Timothy 2:5 “Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.” Acts 4:12
To say sin doesn’t separate us from God is to discount the entire gospel so beautifully woven throughout scripture.
Thank you for replying in such detail, Paul. With more explanation, I agree with you.
Separation and absence are good words to differentiate.
Although we use different words and emphasize the gospel with different angles, it seems like we agree on the gospel message. We are sinners. Christ has set us free from the power of sin by His death and resurrection and we have direct access to the Father through His Son.
Thanks for scripture references and clarity.
Hi Naylene, thank you for your heartfelt engagement. I can tell how seriously you take Scripture and the gospel, and I truly appreciate the time you took to respond so thoroughly.
I think we may be seeing things through different theological lenses—and that’s okay. There’s room for dialogue in the body of Christ, and I hope this can be one of those sacred conversations.
When I say, “God is like Jesus,” I’m echoing Hebrews 1:3: “The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being.” The idea isn’t that Jesus is merely “like” God in a comparative sense—but that in Jesus, we see God’s character most clearly. As Colossians 1:15 also says, “He is the image of the invisible God.” I’m affirming the Trinity here—not minimizing it. But I’m also affirming that if we want to understand what God is like, we start with Jesus.
As for separation, I hear your perspective. Many have been taught to equate sin with relational separation from God—and I understand why, especially when drawing from texts like Genesis 3 or Jesus’ cry from the cross. But I think we sometimes confuse the human perception of distance with actual divine absence.
Adam and Eve hid—but God came looking.
David sinned grievously—but wrote Psalm 139 in awe that God was still with him.
Jesus cried “Why have you forsaken me?”—and yet was quoting Psalm 22, which ends in trust and vindication.
And yes, the veil tore—but not to symbolically complete separation. It was torn to declare access.
The heart of the gospel, for me, is Emmanuel—God with us, even in our sin. Jesus doesn’t mediate from afar. He steps into the mess. He sits with sinners. He dies among criminals. He goes to the depths to bring us home.
So rather than sin causing God to turn away, I believe the cross shows us a God who refuses to turn away, even when we do.
To say sin doesn’t separate us isn’t to dismiss the gospel—it’s to proclaim that sin, as damaging and real as it is, never has the final word. Jesus does.
And Jesus reveals a God who runs toward us, not away.
Blessings to you as you keep seeking truth and living it. I’m grateful for your voice.
Thanks for sharing this. I can see the heart behind it; a deep desire to remind us that God is never far off, even when we fall. That truth is beautiful and needed. Romans 8:38–39 gives me great comfort too: nothing can separate us from His love.
But I think the story is fuller than this.
Scripture is clear that sin creates a real rupture; not in God’s love for us, but in our fellowship with Him. Isaiah 59:2 isn’t about a fragile Father who withdraws, but a holy God whose face we can’t rightly behold when we’ve turned away. The exile from Eden, the torn veil, the cry of Christ on the cross — they all speak to the terrible weight of sin and the distance it brings. If there was no separation, there would be no need for reconciliation.
But praise God, that is exactly what Jesus came to offer. While we were enemies, He reconciled us (Romans 5:10). The cross doesn’t just show that God is with us — it shows that He made a way to bring us home.
So yes, sin separates, but Jesus bridges. And in Him, we are held fast.
Thank you so much for this generous and wise response. I can feel the care you bring to both Scripture and the gospel, and I wholeheartedly resonate with your desire to hold the tension between God’s holiness and God’s nearness.
I think you’re right to name that sin has consequences—that it ruptures fellowship, distorts perception, and deeply wounds both us and our world. But where we may differ slightly is in how we define separation. You beautifully said, “Sin creates a real rupture—not in God’s love for us, but in our fellowship with Him.” That’s such a meaningful distinction, and I think we’re actually closer in heart than it might appear on the surface.
To me, the distinction is this: sin doesn’t separate God from us—it causes us to withdraw from God.
Like Adam and Eve, we hide. Like Cain, we flee. Like the prodigal son, we leave home. And yet, in every story, God is the one who comes searching.
Isaiah 59:2, which you referenced, speaks of our iniquities hiding God’s face—but I don’t believe that’s about God abandoning us. I see it as an expression of the relational disconnection we create, not one God chooses.
In that sense, you’re right: there is a need for reconciliation, but not because God walked away. Rather, we’ve lost our way—and Jesus came not to reopen a closed door, but to walk through the darkness and lead us home. That’s what makes the cross so stunning to me: it’s not the symbol of divine abandonment, but of relentless presence.
So yes—sin feels like separation. But the good news is, even in that feeling, God is already with us, reconciling, restoring, and refusing to let go.
Thank you again for such a rich and respectful engagement. I’m grateful for conversations like this—where truth and grace meet.
Paul, thank you. I so appreciate the way you responded; such care and clarity in your words. I’m grateful we’ve been able to hold this conversation gently, without needing to fight for our voices.
I do think we’re close in heart ; we both see a God who comes after us, who doesn’t abandon, who longs for us to return. But for me, the cross isn’t just God showing up in our darkness; it’s Jesus standing in our place. That moment when He cries, “Why have You forsaken Me?” I can’t see it as metaphor. I see it as holy judgement, fully poured out on the only One who could carry it.
And that’s where our understanding parts ways a little bit I think.
You’ve described love as relentless presence and that’s beautiful. But the love I’ve come to know is even more than that. It’s redemptive. It doesn’t just walk with me while I’m lost, it brings me home, at a great cost. It doesn’t just accompany; it atones. And that makes it, to me, the most powerful love there is.
I think that’s what unsettled me, not your heart, but the possibility of selling Jesus short, even in our effort to lift Him up. The cross isn’t just a comfort; it’s a rescue. And that’s the part I can’t let go of.
Thank you again for this conversation. It’s rare to find spaces like this so full of grace, and yet still hungry for truth.
Thank you so much for this response—and for the grace, thoughtfulness, and courage you’ve brought to the conversation. I feel deeply honored by the way you’ve engaged: not to win an argument, but to witness to Christ. That kind of dialogue is rare and sacred.
You’re absolutely right—we are close in heart. We both trust in a God who pursues, who stays, who saves. And I hear the weight and wonder in your words about the cross—not just as comfort, but as rescue, as substitution, as holy judgment poured out in love. That’s powerful. I don’t take that lightly at all.
Where we may part—slightly—is not in the depth of the cross, but in the framing of how God rescues. I used to hold tightly to the substitutionary view you described, and I still honor what it seeks to express: the gravity of sin and the overwhelming cost of love.
But what changed for me wasn’t a desire to make the cross softer—it was a growing conviction that Jesus doesn’t save us from God. He reveals God. That in the cry, “Why have You forsaken Me?”, we’re not hearing divine abandonment, but Jesus entering the fullness of human forsakenness with us, so that we would never be alone in it again.
I believe the cross is atonement—absolutely. But I see atonement not as wrath satisfied through punishment, but as love poured out to heal what has been broken, to bring home what has been lost, and to reweave communion where separation has reigned. For me, the cross is not God turning away from Jesus—it’s God in Christ stepping into the furthest edges of our alienation to bring us home.
So yes—rescue. Yes—atonement. Yes—costly love.
And I would just add: relentless presence is part of that rescue.
The power of the cross is not only that Jesus died for us, but that He refused to abandon us—even in death.
Thank you again for holding this space with such integrity and kindness. I’m grateful for your voice, your faith, and your hunger for truth that doesn’t settle for shallow answers. May we both keep walking deeper into the mystery of the cross—and the love that still holds us there.
It’s such a rare gift to disagree like this, Paul, with gentleness, honour, and a shared desire to see Jesus more clearly. I’ve felt the sincerity of your words, and I’m truly grateful for the way you’ve spoken with such care throughout.
“Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush Him…” (Isaiah 53:10) - not because the Father turned away in cruelty, but because sin truly did separate us from Him, and He would not leave us there. Christ bore that separation in our place. Not just the presence of God in my pain, but the judgment of God poured out on the Son so I could be brought near. That’s the gospel that steadies me.
Though we remain in different understandings for now, my friend, I’m at peace knowing we’re both fixing our eyes on Jesus. We’re both seeking to surrender. And I believe if we continue to listen - truly listen - to the One whose Word is sovereign, whose authority is sure, and who is both the Author and the Perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:2), He will lead us into all truth.
One thing I will hold with joy is, since we are both in Christ, then we are co-heirs with Him - children of the same Father, welcomed into the same kingdom (Romans 8:17).
Thank you again for speaking so openly and honourably. I’m richer for it.
"Jesus didn't get the memo." What a great framing around the way Jesus welcomes sinners and calls us to do the same.
I don’t know where to begin. 1. Sin caused Adam and Eve to hide from God’s presence in the garden of Eden. God sent them out of the garden. So sin DID change their experience of God’s presence in their lives.
2. We read in scripture of men who lose their clarity of mind because they didn’t follow God’s law: Esau, Saul, Nebuchadnezzar. So sin DID change their relationship with God.
3. Jesus cried on the cross, “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?” It was because Jesus bore our sins.
* SIN separates us from God but has no power to keep us separated because of Christ’s work on the cross. Light cannot dwell with darkness. Dying in our sin is separation from God eternally.
Yes, for the saved, but no for the unsaved.
Thanks for jumping in, Lyle. That’s a distinction many of us were taught—that sin separates the “unsaved” from God, and only after salvation does relationship begin. But I’d gently offer another possibility:
What if God’s presence precedes our salvation?
The Scriptures are full of stories where God draws near to people before they’re “saved” in any formal sense—Hagar in the wilderness, Jonah in his rebellion, the Samaritan woman at the well, Zacchaeus in his tree, Saul on the road to Damascus.
Romans 5:8 reminds us that “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” God didn’t wait for us to clean up or believe first—He moved toward us in love, even then.
So yes, I believe salvation matters deeply. But I don’t believe Jesus comes into our lives only after we cross some theological finish line. I believe He’s been present and pursuing us all along, working for our healing even before we knew what to call it.
To me, that’s grace—and it’s bigger and better than I used to think.
Appreciate your comment and the conversation it opens up!
Sin is merely the ability to activate “will” or consciousness outside of Yahweh’s Will or “mind” (see verses related to the mind of Christ).
That’s why He blocked access to the Tree of Life, He did not want us to risk becoming immortal embedded with sin consciousness (“knowledge of good and evil”).
I’ve spoken extensively on this subject and you’re right, its not “sin” that ever separated us but our willful thoughts, words, and deeds that invited us to hide or attempt to separate ourselves from our Dad.
While Satan’s first sin was pride, our first sin was judgment. We judged “good and evil” hence creating a separate consciousness from the Father after God had already declared all of creation GOOD.
It was not within our original design to judge good from evil, and hence that created the “separation” (see Jesus’s words on judgment in the NT and greater insight will be found as we are “judged according to the same measure we judge by” and “forgive your brother so that your Father may forgive you” - all of modern neuroscience and psychology resonates with these truths as well).
Sean, this is such a rich and expansive reflection—thank you for bringing your voice and insight to the conversation.
I especially appreciate how you frame the root of sin as a rupture in consciousness—a shift away from union with the mind of Christ toward self-determined judgment and control. That insight about our first sin being judgment rather than merely disobedience is profound. It reframes the Genesis narrative not as a legal transgression, but as a tragic departure from trust and communion.
Your point about God blocking access to the Tree of Life as a protective act—not punitive but preventive—really aligns with what I’ve been wrestling with: that separation is something we enact, not something God imposes. It’s the shame-spiral of hiding, not the wrath of abandonment.
And yes—the neuroscience is catching up to the gospel! The more we understand trauma, attachment, and the human brain, the more it becomes clear: judgment breeds separation, but grace restores connection. Jesus didn’t come to reinforce the knowledge of good and evil—He came to liberate us from it, to bring us back into alignment with the Father’s love.
Thank you for bringing such theological and psychological depth to the conversation. I feel like we’re standing at the edge of a much bigger story—and I’m grateful for your witness within it.
Are you saying that sin doesn't ever separate a person from God or that it doesn't do so to those who are in Christ?
Thanks for asking such a thoughtful clarifying question. What I’m saying is that sin doesn’t separate any person from God’s presence or love. Scripture is clear: nothing can separate us from the love of God (Romans 8:38–39). That includes sin.
But sin does affect us—it clouds our vision, hardens our hearts, and creates a kind of spiritual disconnection on our end. It’s not that God walks away from us; it’s that we turn away, hide, or assume we’re too far gone. That’s what happened in the garden with Adam and Eve—they hid, but God came looking.
So yes, sin creates a kind of “felt” separation—but not an actual abandonment by God. Whether we’re in Christ or not, God is always the one pursuing, always inviting, always present. And for those in Christ, we are empowered by grace to respond with repentance and return to communion—not to earn closeness, but to remember it.
It’s not “sin doesn’t matter.” It matters deeply. But sin never has the power to un-belong us from the One who already called us beloved.
If sin in no way separates us from God, why do the Scriptures speak of salvation in terms of being reconciled to God, brought near, and being drawn to Him?
So the relationship of the unsaved person to God doesn't actually change, only their understanding grows clearer of how things have always been?
Beautifully put, Timothy—and I’d say yes and no, depending on how we define “relationship.”
Yes—in the sense that God’s posture toward humanity never changes. God has always been the One who seeks, who comes near, who loves first. That’s why we see phrases like “God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself” (2 Corinthians 5:19), not reconciling Himself to the world. The movement is always from God to us, never the reverse.
But also no—because while God hasn’t changed, we have. The shift is real. It’s not merely cognitive (as if salvation is just learning a new fact). It’s relational, participatory, and transformational. As our awareness grows, so does our trust, our love, our ability to live in communion. And that communion feels like a new relationship because we’re finally stepping into the truth that was always there.
Think of it like this:
A child estranged from their parent by misunderstanding might believe they’re unloved. The parent never stopped loving—but the reunion, the reconciliation, feels like everything has changed. And in a very real way, it has.
Salvation is not just about clarity—it’s about responding to the love that’s always been pursuing us… and being transformed by that encounter.