6/5/21

“In the Garden”

Text:  Genesis 3: 1-21

Aside from the book of Revelation, Genesis is probably the most misread, misinterpreted, and abusively applied book in the Bible. Citing Genesis, people have historically put down women (you know, because of Eve), persecuted Galileo and his colleagues, and made ridiculous speculations about the dinosaurs. 

Be clear: like the book of Revelation, Genesis is a work of theology, not a history as we understand history today. Yes, it is historical—it contains history—but mere history was never its interest or intention. Genesis is primarily a book about God—who God is and how God differs from the gods of this world. It is closer to a sermon than a biology textbook and needs to be read as such. 

Today we look at the story of the Fall of humankind with an eye to its inherent humor. If you’ve never found it. . . funny, you may have overlooked some of the details. As we look at some of those details, we can also appreciate the central insights of the text.  [GEN 3: 1-21]

Walking in the Garden

So God created a paradise for Adam and Eve—a perfect garden—and they were free to do as they pleased with only one rule (ONE!): leave the tree of the knowledge of good and evil to itself. We could call it the Tree of Wisdom—ethics, morality, right and wrong—just leave it alone, don’t touch it, and don’t eat its fruit. 

So what happens? It becomes the most interesting tree in the world. Wisdom and death surround it. God-likeness. How fascinating. In a cosmos full of yeses and one no, what is it about us that draws us with such fascination to the one no? 

So Eve is there contemplating the possibility of taking the fruit. To have God-like wisdom—what would that be like? How would life change? How impressed might Adam be? She remembers God’s words, “Don’t touch it lest you die,” but what was death? Death didn’t even exist—how else could she learn what this “dying” was all about? 

“Don’t touch the tree/ don’t eat the fruit” how could she think of anything else? There is no such thing as a psychological negative. If I say, “Do not imagine putting  cheddar cheese on a peanut butter sandwich,” then I’ve got you. And I realize I’ve lost some of you for the rest of the sermon because you’re going to be sitting there trying to imagine what that peanut butter and cheddar would taste like. 

By the way, nowhere in the Bible does it say the forbidden fruit was an apple, so to those people who think Apple computer is evil because of its bite-out-of-the-apple logo, I say, “Don’t be silly: there are million reasons Apple computer may be evil, the apple has nothing to do with it.” 

At Dinner

So Adam comes home that night from a day of swimming and playing with dolphins, and Eve looks different. There is a certain knowing look in her eye, and he is curious. 

“So what did you do today, Eve?” 

“Oh, I evolved today—did you have fun with your dolphins?” 

“Yeah, but what’s with you—you seem so different. I’d say you look sophisticated but I don’t really know what that word means.” 

“Of course you don’t don’t dear, but I do!” She said this with such an air of confidence and devil-may-care ease that Adam became a little anxious.

“You really are different, Eve! You seem so. . .”

“Wise?” 

“Well, yeah. Say, you haven’t been hanging around the Tree of Wisdom again, have you? There’s no good to come from that tree.” 

“Oh Adam, you really are so predictable, but then again, what else can I expect of one so unambitious, so risk averse, so inhibited.” She says the word almost with disgust. “I was there with the snake and we had quite the conversation?” 

“Wait,” says Adam, “A talking snake? I mean, a snake with intelligence and the gift of reason? Why haven’t I seen it? I named every animal in the world and I never saw a talking, thinking snake. Could it be you are projecting your own thoughts and ideas onto an innocent reptile?”

Eve sighs impatiently, “Adam. Do you want to hear my story or not?”

“Eve, I’m not so sure what to think of this new you.”

“Well, you wouldn’t,” she says, “how could you possibly know what to think of me now? I’ve surpassed you, Adam.” 

“Wait a minute! Eve, please tell me you didn’t eat some of that forbidden fruit.” 

Eve sighs, “I knew this would be difficult for you. You’re such a goody two-shoes that there’s no way you can see the world at my level.” 

Adam stiffens, “Oh, so you think you’re better than me? And by the way, what are shoes?” 

Eve holds up one of the fruits she brought back. “It’s okay, Adam, it shouldn’t bother you that I’m smarter than you now, and much, much wiser than you.” 

Adam can’t take anymore. “We’ll see about that!” he says as he lunges forward, grabs the fruit and takes a bite.” 

Naked

Next scene: Adam and Eve are trying on different leaves. 

“These ivy leaves are no good, Eve; the they just split with the thread.”

“Use the fig leaves, Adam—they’re larger and hold together much better.” Several minutes of quiet sewing and fitting pass. Once they’re sufficiently fig-leafed over, Adam says, “Eve, What have we done? I don’t feel wiser, just ashamed.” 

Now Eve begins to  cry.  “Oh Adam, I’m so sorry! I messed up everything and didn’t want to be all alone in this misery. I had to have you with me.” 

Just then, a voice from the edge of the garden calls out, “Adam! Eve! You guys here?” 

Adam panics: “Ugh! We’re in for it now!—come on, let’s hide!” They duck down behind some beautiful hibiscus bushes. 

God walks straight up them and says, “Really? You think you can hide?” 

They step out, arms and hands attempting to cover their nakedness, even though they have fig leaves all over them. Adam shugs as if to answer the question. 

“So why are we playing hide and seek today?” says The Lord, “You didn’t eat some of that forbidden fruit by any chance now, did you?” 

At first Adam and Eve look helplessly to each other wondering who is supposed to answer. Eve hangs her head in shame. Adam looks at God and goes [gesturing ever so subtly toward Eve with furtive eye-glances and thumb pointing]. 

God says, “Oh, so it’s not your fault, Adam, but Eve’s fault.” Eve looks up and then at Adam, feeling real anger for the first time in her life. Adam plays dumb, for the first of many, many times in their marriage. Eve realizes that the Lord is now looking at her for an answer. To her great luck, a snake is lazily slithering very nearby. She bites her nails on one hand; with the other she shyly points down at the snake. 

God says, “Oh, it’s the snake’s fault, is it? The snake made you do it. Well then, naughty, naughty snake! Because you have done this, you will have to live your life on your belly, and no one is going to like you.” 

Sin and Responsibility

Cut away for a moment. Adam blames Eve and Eve blames the snake. God seems to humor this chain of denial for the moment, but it will not stand. Herein is the true heart of human sin—not so much in eating a fruit as in denying responsibility for one’s sin. 

The human propensity to avoid responsibility for sin and to pass blame elsewhere is constant and pandemic. We live in a society chock full of people who blame others for their misery, and thereby remain trapped in sin. They cheaply cover themselves with lame excuses and hide behind whatever is handy to keep them from facing the reality of their own sin. 

“Society makes this way!” [translation: “It’s not my fault. I am not responsible”]

“I was abused by bullies” [translation: “Feel sorry for me and give me a pass on responsibility”]

“The system is unfair!” [translation: “ I don’t have to take responsibility for myself.”]

There are a million variants on this theme—all of them one way or another of passing the blame on to someone else, or blaming nature, or God, or the stupid snake, as in “the Devil made me do it” which is a way of saying the Devil is responsible, but not so much me. 

This is sin: the denial of responsibility for our own sin. 

For the consequences of the Fall, Adam and Eve have no one to blame but themselves. Their spiritual health, like yours and mine, stands directly in proportion to what degree they will own responsibility for their choices. 

New Clothes

The most interesting thing in this story is not human sin, which we all know only too well, but in God’s unreasonable grace—His desire to patch them up and put them on their feet again. They are expelled from Paradise and the natural world falls with them. The hibiscus bush becomes a cholla cactus, and the ground takes on thorns and nettles. 

In order to eat, Adam must now work by the sweat of his brow. Eve will have long, difficult pregnancies, and the snake. . .goes on being a snake, because it wasn’t really the snake’s fault, was it? 

One day, God shows up at their cave with some new clothes for them. 

Eve looks like she was about to say something, but stops. What she was thinking was two things at once: 

1. Leather? Where did leather come from? She had been thinking of becoming a vegan. 

2. Is there any chance it comes in pink? 

They put on their new clothes—God has covered them with dignity in spite of their sins. Eve puts on new dress, then turns her back to Adam and asks, “Does this make by behind look fat?” Adam was about to answer when God nudged him and [warning gesture: No! No!].  “Not at all dear, you look great!”  Later, Adam would ask the Lord whether or not what he said counted as a lie. God said, “Don’t worry about it. You did the right thing. And by the way, when you tell your story to your children and great grandchildren, keep the snake in the story.” 

Adam nodded. “By the way,” said the Lord, “As to this whole sin problem, don’t worry. I intend to take full responsibility for you, Eve, and all your children. By the end of the story, I will make all things well and will pay every penalty myself.”  Adam nodded gratefully as if he understood, but there’s no way he could really understand at all. Come to think of it, Grace remains a mystery to us all. 

Epilogue

Cut to eight months later. Eve is miserably pregnant. She says, “I knew I would suffer pain in childbirth, but I never dreamt it would be three months of constant pain leading up to it! And every time I leave the cave to get some berries, I never fail to step on one of those horrid thorns!” 

The next day, after work, Adam comes home with a gift for Eve. “Open it,” he says, because he wrapped it up in banana leaves and flower blossoms. Eve is giddy with excitement. “Oh you shouldn’t have! What is it?” she says as she eagerly tears it open.  She holds up the first pair of sandals, but there is a puzzled look on her face. Adam says, “I call them ‘shoes’—you put them on your feet and they protect you from the thorns!” 

“Oh Adam, that’s so thoughtful!” she says. 

“Do you like them?”

“Oh, yes, they’re delightful” says Eve, though she knows they are hideous and will look terrible on her. 

She asks, “What are they made of anyway:” 

Adam stands tall, looking proud of himself, and says, “Snakeskin!” 

As we come to the Table we celebrate the final action of God by which God takes all responsibility for sin upon himself, Christ is the reverse of the human curse of sin. As all humankind fell through Adam, all humankind finds redemption through Christ. †

Questions

1. Why is Genesis more like a sermon than a history book? 
2. Although Genesis contains history, its focus is not on history but on something else. What is that something else? 
3. Why is the snake in the garden? Is the snake even necessary to the story? 
4. After the fall, what are the immediate consequences of sin? 
5. How are sin and responsibility connected? 
6. Sin loves to lay blame elsewhere, so what is the noble and correct response to sin? 
7. Today, where do we see blaming others triumphing over taking responsibility? 
8. What happens when we stop blaming anyone else for anything? 
9. It is right that every person should take full responsibility for his or her sins. Even so, what responsibility does God take for our sin? 
10. How much responsibility for sin does God take upon himself?\