My grandfather- who loved telling stories and who, in his last years, would endlessly retell the same stories- was particularly partial to the story of the fellow who, condemned to hang for his crimes, was nevertheless permitted a bit of exercise the day before.
In the Poetics of Aristotle, that wonder of brevity and wit on the art of making (poiesis), there is a clever little thing called peripety, which is a device deployed by the artist to alert his audience to any sudden or unexpected turn of events in the unfolding of a story.
It is only in these last days of Lent—before, that is, the high moments of Holy Week that will mark the earthly end of his life—that the public appearances of Jesus become especially fraught, ever more heightened and dramatic.
The belief that it was an infinite and necessary God who created this finite and contingent universe, and not some stray spark igniting the primeval sludge, is not to say that the entire evolutionary process is bogus.