Now the serpent was more crafty than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, "Indeed, has God said, 'You shall not eat from any tree of the garden'?"
The serpent . . . evil, the devil, Satan, whatever you want to insert in this particular "blank," the point is clear--something was amiss in the order of creation, and whatever it was wanted to manifest itself in the actions of human beings. I'm not sure what origins evil had, and frankly I'm not sure any of us can know this side of Christ's return, but the character of evil is constant throughout the Bible and, I would argue, throughout human history. It is (1) innately hostile toward God and (2) eager in its attempts to pervert whatever God creates.
Whatever the "serpent" is, whatever it represents, it poses a question that, for the first time, accesses the full range of human free will. After all, if humans bear the stamp or image of God, it is certainly most evident in our exercise of the will, a faculty which (as we have discussed in the previous posts) animals simply do not have. Free will, however, is utterly meaningless without the room to exercise it, and what better situation in which to exercise free will than in the choice to obey or disobey God?
The serpent, then and now, is the "other side of the coin," the agent who attempts to elicit a response contrary to God's will and design. As the first person to make the choice between God and the serpent--between her design and an attempt to pervert that design--the woman had the privilege (and dreadful responsibility) of setting the tone for the entire human race.
The woman said to the serpent, "From the fruit of the trees of the garden we may eat--but from the fruit of the tree which is in the middle of the garden, God has said, 'You shall not eat from it or touch it, or you will die.'"
Notice that the serpent's first question is a direct contradiction of the command God had given both the man and the woman in Genesis 2--this is the first ploy of the tempter, to divide us from our Creator, taking away from us what Jesus would say in the book of Matthew to be what humankind lives on: every word that comes from the mouth of God. The ancient Israelis, a culture that lost its own holy books over and over again through the centuries, would have keenly understood the signficance of being divided from the "word of God." Hence, to an Israeli listener, the woman's response should have been, "God has said, 'You shall not eat from it, or you will die.'"
The "and touch it" in these 2 verses is very significant--it indicates that the woman, at this point, is vulnerable, either through her inattentiveness to God or through her surprise at the serpent's twisting of God's word.
The serpent said to the woman, "You surely will not die! For God knows that in the day you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."
This is the second ploy of the serpent--after attempting to divide the woman from the word of God, he then offers a tantalizing "goodie" in reward for disobeying God. The Hebrew Bible is replete with stories like this one, and everyone within the context of the culture that recited its words would have understood that the lure of evil is not destruction for destruction's sake but a promise of something "good," "pleasurable," or "useful" in return.
In this case, it is the one thing that human beings seem to have been unable to resist throughout their history: the temptation to become gods. Whether it is called "deciding your own destiny," "becoming your own person," or "being a free thinker," the temptation is the same . . . to become our own gods, to adopt a position of final authority (even life or death) over ourselves and others. The knowledge of good and evil has wrought more harm, more pain, and more misery on the generations of the human race than any other idea, force, or concept in our history--because it is never motivated by a desire to do the right thing but a desire to assume a position we neither earned nor deserve.
When the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was desirable to make one wise, she took from its fruit and ate--and she gave also to her husband with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked--and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loin coverings.
These verses form the core of the tragedy that the Bible recounts in its pages. Instead of remembering the words of God, the woman utilizes her own faculties of reason, assuming a place of equality with God (even though she has neither created the Earth on which she lives or herself) in her critique of his logic for banning the tree from them in the first place. She sees that it is "good for food," that it is a "delight to the eyes," and that it is "desirable to make one wise"--in other words, what we have here is the prototype of every sin known to humanity. Lust, for example, is based on these three precepts--consumption, visual appeal, and utility . . . and so are all the major religions of the world.
Yes, religion is one of the manifestations of this prototype--and I would even go so far as to say that institutional Christianity is a manifestation of this prototype as well. As the above verses indicate, it is our knowledge of what is right and wrong that gets us into trouble most of the time, and generally, religion (while claiming to serve as a force of moral instruction across cultures and time frames) aims to subjugate one person (or group of people) under the rule of another. The Hindu caste system, for example, is buttressed by all of those wonderful concepts of karma and reincarnation that have become so popular in American media, and in many countries around the world, Buddhism also creates a caste system in which a priestly class is essentially worshipped and treated as demigods.
Christianity, however, even Protestant Christianity, has been one of the worst offenders--and this is unfortunate, given that the Christ of Christianity dismantled--through His words and actions--the very systems that allow men and women to be condemned by human beings, governments, and institutions on the basis of morality. Our depredations during the Middle Ages and beyond are obvious--the Crusades, the Inquisitions, and all of our internecine acts of violence against both adherents of other religions and each other--but institutional Christianity, particularly Protestant Christianity, is no less inclined toward self-deification today than it was centuries ago. Anyone, for example, who argues that a pastor or priest has final authority over the well-being of someone's soul, or demands that a person conform to a particular culture or perspective without making recourse to Christ as his/her final authority, is in disobedience to God.
This may sound harsh, and I know that there are those reading this blog who would quote passages from Paul's letters in order to refute me, but Paul, more than anyone, understood that ultimately, whether a man or woman is in good standing with God has more to do with that man and woman's personal priorities than with any badgering, cajoling, or threats that a deacon or overseer may utilize. In that respect, his letters to the Corinthians are particularly tinged with grief, because he sees a group of people who are hardening their hearts against the Christ they adopted, and they are choosing to slip away. Paul--a man who would have been more motivated than anyone else to do anything, right or wrong, to avoid losing even one soul for Christ--understood keenly that what a man or woman prioritizes in his/her heart will guide the choices he/she makes, no matter what anyone else--even God--says . . . and he knew that the Corinthians, for good or ill, were beyond his control.
They heard the sound of the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the LORD God among the trees of the garden. Then the LORD God called to the man, and said to him, "Where are you?"
Obviously, the story personalizes God to an extent that ancient Israeli listeners and reciters would have understood--and remembered--this story, but what is importnat here is that the man and woman separated themselves from God.
I have heard a great many pronouncements in Protestant Christian circles that sin (an inanimate idea) separates us from God . . . but this verse demonstrates it to be actually humans who separate themselves from God. Intimacy, communion . . . these things are the first to go whenever we decide, in our hearts, to pursue something that is against the way we were designed--and we are the ones to discard them. I think it is emblematic of our culture today that 50% of marriages end in divorce--and that the statistic is actually higher in institutional churches. We are, as any foreigner can readily attest, an anti-relational society, right down to the Gameboys, Blackberries, and other assorted gadgets we have invented in order to give ourselves an excuse not to talk to each other.
He said, "I heard the sound of You in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid myself."
And He said, "Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?"
The man said, "The woman whom You gave to be with me, she gave me from the tree, and I ate."
Then the LORD God said to the woman, "What is this you have done?"
And the woman said, "The serpent deceived me, and I ate."
In this section of dialogue, we have history's first blame game--at least as the ancient Israelis would have understood history. Instead of taking responsibility for their actions, which God was giving them a chance to do, the man and woman point fingers at someone else--and in the man's case, they even subtly point fingers at God ("the woman whom You gave to be with me"). The road to maturity in ancient Israel was understood to be a road in which one takes responsibility for his or her actions--to assign blame to "society" or "God" or "events from my past" is not enough. It was understood among those who first heard this text that the ability to make decisions entails an ability to understand, at least unconsciously, their consequences.
Again, we live in a Protestant Christian culture which uses the word "sin" as an escape hatch--it is "sin" which separates us from God, not ourselves. The Bible, however, is clear--if we are separated from God, then it is no one's fault but our own. We have chosen to hide ourselves from Him--either to conceal something we did and knew was wrong or simply because we don't want to deal with a conversation that will end in our discipline--and though He may seek us out (as He is shown doing here), it is our choice to respond either with honesty . . . or with lies, obfuscation, and blame.
Yes, we have evil in the world . . . a serpent, devil, Satan, or whatever you want to fill in that particular "blank," but that agent of temptation is not responsible for all the suffering and misery that have been, and continue to be, peculiarly indicative of human history.
We are.
Until we begin to recognize this fact, we will continue to stumble in the dark, not knowing who we are, at war with ourselves, each other, and ultimately, with God.
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