Morning Prayer: Shannon Cook Choral Amen Hymn of Faith *Spirit of God, Descend upon My Heart* Witness of Scripture: Genesis 3: 1-13 Anthem *Lord, for Thy tender mercies' sake* Richard Farrant. Chancel Choir Sermon *Essentials: Falling & Raising
Recorded on September 8, 2024
In his book Genesis: A Living Conversation, Bill Moyers writes “My mother used to leave her freshly baked sugar cookies right in the middle of the table, warm and inviting but forbidden until supper was over. If she meant the temptation to be a test of discipline, to build character, my brother and I often flunked. I think of this when I hear the story of the Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden. Why didn’t God place the forbidden fruit on the very top branch, beyond the reach of innocence? Genesis confronts us with many tempting questions.” (p. 39)
Perhaps of all the scriptures that hang heavy on the religious conscious of Western Christianity, none is weightier than this story from Genesis 3. It has been given the ominous title of ‘the Fall,’ which has tended to shape a particular hearing of this story and thus shutting down the ‘many tempting questions’ to which Moyers alludes. That Western Christianity has tended to see this story in only one way has been informed by Paul’s reference to this story in his letter to the Romans, and even more significantly Augustine’s interpretation that Genesis 3 is the prescriptive statement of the sorry condition of humankind, a perspective that has become the doctrine of ‘original sin.’Perhaps many of us were raised on this idea—that we are innately flawed, thanks to Adam’s sin being genetically passed down from one generation to the next because of what happened long ago in Eden—one bad apple spoiled the whole bunch. No doubt, Genesis 3 is a tragic story of loss and consequence from which we must learn; and yet perhaps there is more than one way to hear this story.Frankly, Genesis 3 as the definitive statement on human gone wrongness is not necessarily supported by…Genesis 3.To be sure Christian history and church theology has loaded down this story with all sorts of interpretive baggage, which ironically might be the true original sin, if one wants to maintain the notion of original sin. But again, that doctrine comes from church history and not Genesis 3. William Sloane Coffin once said, “It is bad religion to deify doctrines and creeds. While indispensable to religious life, doctrines and creeds are only so as signposts. Love alone is the hitching post. Doctrines, let’s not forget, supported slavery and apartheid; some still support keeping women in their places…moreover, doctrines can divide while compassion can only unite. In other words, religious folk all our lives have both to recover tradition and recover from it!” (Credo, p. 9) Perhaps Genesis 3 is one of those recovery expeditions, for as Coffin goes on to affirm, “Faith is no substitute for thinking. On the contrary, it is what makes good thinking possible. It has what we might call a limbering effect on the mind; by taking us beyond familiar ground, faith ends up giving us that much more to think about.” (Credo, p. 8) So, perhaps a little limbering and stretching might help us rehear something not considered or not emphasized in the interpretation of Genesis 3.
Walter Brueggemann, in his magnificent commentary on Genesis (pp. 41 – 42) is a helpful guide in our limbering up for Genesis 3. He reminds us that Genesis 3 is not the definitive statement about humankind. Though Ezekiel 28 might draw from Genesis 3, many texts in the Hebrew scriptures hold humanity in high regard. Psalm 8 comes to mind—“yet, God has made humanity only a little lower than the angels and crowned them with glory and honor.” While there are clearly stories of human neglect and failure found in the prophets, there are also stories that humanity can in fact follow God’s decrees.Even Jeremiah, who tended to be a real downer at a dinner party, spoke for God when he wrote, “I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people.” Sometimes Genesis 3 has been used as an explanation for how evil or death came into the world, but Brueggemann asserts that the Hebrew scriptures are not interested in such abstract issues. The story offers no explanation for evil…nowhere does the story suggest the serpent is a devil in scaled clothing; and since no one dies in this story, its focus is less about death and more about living amidst life’s struggles and anxieties. And then there is this—when any story involves fruit and people running around scantily clad, the prurient impulses tend to get stirred and take center stage.None of us needs to work out Augustine’s early life issues 1600 years later—this is not a statement about s-e-x and s-i-n! To be sure, the story deals with power and trust and autonomy and honesty, because that is what impacts every aspect of our relationships. So, to read Genesis 3 as the prescriptive statement of the human predicament is rather like reading the story of Jonah as a fishing manual for effective whaling. We can read it that way—it’s just not the story.
Western Christianity’s reading of Genesis 3 also tends to create several logical issues—the most difficult one being that if our two main characters are indeed in a state of innocence and pre-conscience, how can they be held responsible for a decision when they could not have possibly known the implications?It almost feels like a set-up—they are two young people in a world of complexity. The warm cookies are on the table, and when the inevitable happens, it seems that God’s punitive response is swift and out of proportion. We certainly would not ignore this part of the story because there is much to learn here; yet emphasizing this part of the story establishes a rather severe picture of who God is. And of course there is another big problem. Who has tended to shoulder the blame for the whole situation in Eden? At least half of you know the answer immediately. It is the woman, who in some religious circles has been named ‘the first in the Edenic fall,’ formulated into a doctrine with destructive and despicable consequences. Here’s an idea—how about we forgive Eve!? God certainly has—maybe it is time for the rest of religion to do that as well!
Well, one can only complain so long about something before others start getting annoyed, or wondering if there is anything more than just whining, which is a rather unattractive trait. Pondering other possibilities for hearing Genesis 3 is not to take the text less seriously; in fact, it might help us hear the text more broadly by shedding needless burdens of guilt or blame while freeing up space to hear the text more relevantly. Consider Genesis 3 not as a prescriptive statement of human failure, but a descriptive statement of daily struggles; hear Genesis 3 not as a prescriptive statement of God’s severity, but a descriptive statement of God’s mercy; think ofGenesis 3 not as a prescriptive statement of how life was before paradise was lost, but a descriptive statement of how life can be within God’s covenant even east of Eden; imagine Genesis 3 not as a prescriptive statement of original sin, but a descriptive statement of ongoing grace.
Reading Genesis 3 with world history, 20th century history, and the first quarter of the 21st century in mind is to hear how incredibly wise this story is.The first matter to be considered is the question of who God is. In the brilliance that is Genesis 3, we are introduced to this issue by a walking and talking snake—now that is a good symbol as disturbing images go! Here’s what the snake does—it deliberately misrepresents God. Woo-who, we are having some fun now! The snake reminds us of any and all who have ever employed God for their purposes, talking about God and making God fit into a self-advancing theology—like, what the church has sometimes done, or sometimes religious leaders have done, or sometimes nations or groups can do when wanting to justify something. Well shoot, the fun did not last long. The way Jesus said it was, “Not everyone who says ‘Lord, Lord’ will enter the kingdom of heaven.” The old slimy snake reminds us that making a claim about God does not in fact mean one is speaking of God. Shakespeare reminds us that even the devil can quote scripture.
Why the prohibition about eating from the Tree of the Knowledge of good and evil? That tree belongs only to God, because look at what happens when people claim the knowledge of God that knows absolute difference between good and evil. Claiming to have that fruit, claiming that one’s own thoughts and God’s thoughts are concentric circles leads ironically to the worst of human atrocities and the most horrific of ungodlike actions. People who claim such fruitful knowledge are poisoned to believe themselves infallible—a claim that leads to Crucifixions and Crusades, to Auschwitz and ideological extremism, to egregious actions wrapped in religious veneer and hatred masquerading as piety. The prohibition about eating from the Tree of the Knowledge of good and evil is not endorsement for ignorance nor naivete; not permission for moral laxity nor social irresponsibility. Instead, it is counsel for humility over arrogance, learning over certitude, discernment over dogma, courage over fear. We are called to the hard work of wrestling with how our faith speaks to every situation, without claiming to have eaten from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, a fruit that only God can digest. Time and again our biblical story reiterates this truth—“for my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,’ wrote Isaiah; 'for now we see in a mirror dimly…for now we know only in part,’ wrote Paul.
The story also reminds us how easy it is to pass the blame—this is so obvious it almost feels comedic. “Did you eat the fruit?” That question is not even answered; instead save his own skin Adam says, ‘it was the woman you gave to me God’ (an excuse wrapped in an accusation); followed by the woman who did in fact challenge the snake’s first misrepresentation of God, but eventually gets rubbed slick by the lies and says, ‘it was the snake.’ Their revealing responses remind us it is easier to blame than take responsibility, easier to be defensive than courageous.
This is a wise and wondrous story—with loss and consequence not spared; but that is neither the prescriptive nor final word. Genesis 3 gives us a picture of who God is even when we fail to be our best selves—God walking at the time of the evening breeze, searching and wondering where we are. This is not a distant and severe God, but a seeking relational God who despite all the imperfections and insinuations, does not give up. Toward the end of Genesis 3, God has gone into the knitting business, providing a way forward so that these two will not have to live in shame and embarrassment and inequity for the rest of their days. This is the most stunning part of the story—God knits them back together with clothes for their bodies and grace for their future. We can still think of this as a story of falling—not as falling from but as falling toward this God who raises up these two to live another day. It is as the Psalmist writes—"God’s steadfast love endures forever; God’s faithfulness is to every generation.” This is essential, and that is fruit worth chewing on.