[11/17/19]
We’ve been edging up to it, but here’s the reality of the situation: While man as originally created was capable of resisting sin even without knowing what sin was, man failed to do so. In an odd twist of irony, had man not sinned, he would not have had an awareness that what he had done was in fact a sin. He would have no words to describe it. Indeed, he still didn’t. He just knew. That was bad, and bad will come of it.
Yet, it has to be observed that just as the capacity to withstand temptation was inherent in their being, so too was a propensity for acceding to temptation. What this tells me is that however much they may have lacked in the knowledge of good and evil, they still understood he urge for autonomy. They still knew the tug of the forbidden, the sense that what is withheld must imply privilege or some such, and as such becomes the more desirable. It was not that the serpent introduced some new idea with his whisperings, but that his whisperings touched on something already present in man.
Note how the conversation goes between serpent and man. The serpent asks a seemingly innocent question. “Has God really said, ‘You shall not eat from any tree of the garden’?” (Ge 3:1b). Now, that question indicates an awareness of the answer. He knew what had been said, and as such, his mis-statement of what was said is clearly intentional. The answer he is given is, at first, quite correct. “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’” (Ge 3:2-3). Okay, let’s go to tape. What did God actually say? “From any tree of the garden you may eat freely; but from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day you eat from it you will surely die” (Ge 2:16-17).
Now, it may seem to us that the answer given the serpent was near enough to verbatim. Surely, it captured the intent if not the exact wording. But there is that added stricture which God did not speak. Not only is there the call to refrain from eating, but even from touching. Here is one of the most common paths to sin exposed from the outset. It is the same path the Pharisees trod, and the same one we tend to set our feet upon at every opportunity. It starts from holy intentions. We read the negative commandment and then add to it. We think that we are thereby guarding ourselves from even approaching the sinful act. If it is not for us to eat, best we don’t even touch it. There’s even a sense of appropriateness to that idea, isn’t there? Guard yourself not only from evil, but even from the appearance of evil. Surely there is wisdom in that! But there is also temptation, for God sets upon us a burden we are able to bear. By adding to the command, even in so innocent a fashion, we increase the burden and undermine ourselves.
Interestingly, the serpent does not choose to exploit the misstatement, but injects another. “Surely you will not die!” (Ge 3:4). Here comes a note of doubt. But in its way, it does actually build on the misquoting of the command. If you can’t remember what He said, perhaps you have also misunderstood what He said. Maybe you got that part wrong. Or maybe, and here the insinuation turns darker, maybe you shouldn’t listen to Him in the first place. After all, what makes Him the boss of you? “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” (Ge 3:5). Okay what’s going on here? If man had no knowledge of good and evil prior to partaking of that forbidden fruit, how much meaning could there have been to the serpent’s claim? What would they have understood about knowing good and evil? They knew, I suppose, right and wrong, at least at some level, and they must have had some base definition for good and evil, else the words would be just so much noise in their ears. But I think what they heard is this: Knowing good and evil is what it means to be like God.
Knowing, yada`, much like it does in Greek and English, carries a range of meaning, a range of connotation. It could simply speak to perception and awareness. It could mean to experience and relate to. It could go so far as to take in the idea of carnal knowledge, or simply so far as to be skillful in. Suddenly, knowledge turns dark. It’s one thing to have an awareness of what defines good, and thereby delineates evil. It’s quite another to have experienced both, to be skillful in both. In that latter sense, to claim this knowing is like God is a most libelous claim. It is also, on the serpent’s part, a bit of projection.
God, as we know, is good – perfectly good. As explored at the outset, this being of His essence, the very nature of being God, He cannot be otherwise than good. This being the case, God cannot possibly have experience of or skill in evil. He has, most assuredly awareness of evil, for by His own goodness, evil is delineated. We might say, it is that which is not like God, if we wished to have a simple, if not particularly useful definition. This serpent, on the other hand, has in fact experienced both good and evil, and been skillful in both good and evil. At minimum, we know that he walked amongst the sons of God in heaven. This is where we meet him in the opening moments of Job. He has access to the throne room and right of petition before God Himself. If the common supposition is correct, he was even the worship leader at one point, but he got too full of himself, and the temptation he sets before man is that to which he himself succumbed, the urge to autonomy, to self-rule.
Go back to man. What is heard? “You will be like God.” Isn’t that the goal for all God’s children, to be like Him? If that’s the case, then perhaps this creature speaks wisely. Perhaps we did misunderstand the instruction, for to be like God is good, and good is what God wants. Ergo, it follows that this fruit that will make us like Him must be good for us to eat. That is perhaps the best light in which we can cast man’s thinking. I suspect, however, that the response to this argument comes from the same root issue as led to Satan’s fall: the urge to autonomy. I cannot be certain of this, but it certainly fits with our self-understanding. Every one of us, pretty much from birth, struggles to come to a place of self-rule. We want to be in charge. In every relationship we want to be the one calling the shots. It is there in the baby’s demands upon its mother. It is there in the child’s insistent tantrums when denied whatever small thing the child seeks at the moment. It is there in the struggles between siblings, between husband and wife. It is there in our work relationships, as employee seeks to avoid the more onerous duties required by the boss, and the boss seeks greater rule of his employee than the relationship imparts. It is there in our propensity to heed only such laws as suit our mood. I find it perfectly believable that this fatal flaw was there in man in the garden, and Satan knew it.
So, then, the woman took and ate, being fully aware of God’s command. And she gave it to ‘her husband with her,’ and he ate (Ge 3:6). See, it would make them wise! It would be good to eat it. Wisdom, man had concluded, did not consist in the fear of the Lord, but in knowledge and experience of good and evil. How can we know what to avoid, if we have not at least tried it and found it bad? How shall we learn not to touch the stove except we once touch it and discover the reason for the restriction? Ah, such wisdom! But the greater wisdom lays in trusting God, obeying His command with or without understanding of the reason for the command.
[11/18/19]
Now comes the hard question: Who sinned? Or, more succinctly, who sinned first? We know that it was Eve whom the serpent deceived, as the Genesis account makes clear, and Paul reiterates to the Corinthians. “But I am afraid that, as the serpent deceived Eve by his craftiness, your minds will be led astray from the simplicity and purity of devotion to Christ” (2Co 11:3). “And it was not Adam who was deceived, but the woman being deceived, fell into transgression” (1Ti 2:13). Now, I have to say, this is a statement that very nearly leads me to suggest Paul is wrong. Indeed, were it not for one thing, I would say this is the case. But, that one thing is that Paul writes by the Holy Spirit, the same Holy Spirit who superintended both the writing and the canonization of Scripture. What He chose to see included, He chose because it was trustworthy and true. Ergo, I must accept Paul’s statement here, at least in such context as it is given.
Does context in any way constrain or alter the plain sense of what has been said on this occasion? Overall, the chapter in which that verse is found finds Paul discussing matters of proper practice in the Church. We should pray on behalf of all, with particular notice given to civil authorities. We should pray for unbelievers because God desires all to come to truth.
Taking a slightly wider view, though, we may see that the larger discussion is not merely church practice, or exercises for grace. It is more to do with governance in general. Why do we pray for the civil authorities? “So that we may lead a tranquil and quiet life in all godliness and dignity” (1Ti 2:2). Later, in chapter 3, Paul turns to religious authorities, and discusses the qualifications for those men who would serve as elders, deacons, overseers in the church. But, before he turns to the men, he discusses the place of women. They ought to be modest and discreet, not showy and gaudy. They ‘must quietly receive instruction with entire submissiveness’ (1Ti 2:11). There’s a message that’s going to go over well in the current climate. But, look once again at what the primary subject is here. It’s one of governance and order. “I do not allow a woman to teach or exercise authority over a man, but to remain quiet” (1Ti 2:12-14). Why? “For it was Adam who was first created, and then Eve. And it was not Adam who was deceived, but the woman being deceived fell into transgression.”
In the most literal of terms, his statement is perfectly accurate, is it not? The only questionable detail is the claim that Adam was not deceived, and that is not a claim that the Genesis account disallows. It is, however, a detail left unnoted.
So, Eve was deceived and Adam was not. Now consider Adam. For, he ate, and based on this testimony, he ate knowing full well what he was eating and where it had come from. Arguably, he was there watching Eve fail the whole time. I know a ways back in this effort I observed that three cord statement of Solomon’s and suggested that had Adam and Eve remained united and together, they would have, or at least could have, withstood this temptation in the garden. I think I must revise that. In point of fact, either one alone could have done as much, for either one alone would still stand with God. Further, if we look to the conclusion of this failure, we find that ‘she gave also to her husband with her, and he ate’ (Ge 3:6). So, at bare minimum, Adam recognized what it was she was giving him. And he ate. I suggest, though, that this identification that he was with her, which would be rather obviously the case in whatever circumstance she might find to offer him a taste, would seem something of an unnecessary detail to mention in regard to some later, unconnected occasion. Of course, he was with her. How else could she give to him? What I am suggesting, then, is that he was there the whole time. Nothing indicates that Eve was alone through all of this, only that she was the one questioned, and the one who answered. She was the one who was deceived, yes, but let me offer this thought. If she was deceived, I could almost accept that she was, if not without sin, at least a sinner who had sinned due to the deception of the devil. Adam, however, is left without excuse. He was not deceived.
This is not a point I am willing to stake out as a necessary point of doctrine, nor even a certainty, in all fairness. I’m not sure how to read this in terms of how my question should be answered. Who sinned? Well, clearly, both did. If the account itself did not suffice to make that plain, then later matters, such as Paul’s assessment of humanity, should settle us on the matter. “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Ro 3:23). That wasn’t just for the day in which he lived, nor even from that day forward. It was a declaration for the ages. Past, present, and future, from the first man to the last, the statement holds, with the singular exception of the God-man. Let me just observe as an aside, that this necessarily includes those like Enoch and Elijah, in spite of their being taken up into heaven by the direct route. This necessarily included Melchizedek, if indeed he is found to have been a man. There is the off chance that he was not so much a man as a manifestation of God, but this is not a claim Scripture makes explicitly, and as such, we do better to account him a man, even if a man whose generations are unknown and unknowable.
Adam sinned, and sinned hugely. Given the circumstances, I must suggest that his sin went far beyond the act of eating that fruit, although that was the delineating crime. God said no. Wife said yes. Who did he listen to? Oops. To borrow the sad comment from a few years back, “he did not choose wisely.” This, I must observe, has been a tension in all our relationships ever since, but most powerfully affects us within that most powerful of earthly relationships, which is marriage. Of this we are clearly warned, although it is not a call to dissolve the relationship, rather to cling the more to God.
As we observe Adam’s behavior when next God comes to visit, it is clear, quite frankly, that he knew full well what he had done, and the enormity of it. “The woman You gave to be with me, she gave me from the tree, and I ate” (Ge 3:12). See, God? It’s clearly according to Your plan and design that this happened. No use blaming me for it. The woman was no better. “The serpent deceived me, and I ate” (Ge 3:13). She, too, is seeking to lay the blame somewhere outside herself. Well, there you go, then, now they know evil. But Adam’s failure is not only in eating. Indeed, in spite of Eve’s attempted defense, and Paul’s disclaimer, it has to be said that both Adam and Eve ate knowingly. They knew what God had said. The serpent had deceived Eve, yes, but only because she chose to be deceived. Deception is no excuse.
But Adam did worse than to eat. He failed to take preventative actions. He failed to speak truth when Eve misspoke. When she added the provision about not touching the tree, he did not correct this. And again, I am reasonably well convinced he was present to hear the conversation Eve and the serpent were having. Nothing says she was alone. Nothing says the serpent was speaking sotto voice to avoid being overheard by Adam. Adam had a duty to guard and protect this woman God had given him. If she was, indeed, ‘the woman You gave me’, then certainly, as a gift given by God, she ought rightly to have been cherished and guarded, even if this required guarding her from herself.
But they had no knowledge of good and evil, you say. Adam had no reason to be on guard there in the garden. That is as may be, but whatever he lacked in knowledge of good and evil, he certainly knew the one command God had given them, and he knew that by rights, that command was binding upon him.
Thus, it is Adam’s sin which we find declared as fatal to the human race. It is Adam’s sin which we find passed down through every generation. Eve’s sin, somehow, does not do this. Eve may be the mother of all, but it is in Adam that all men sinned, and in Adam all die (1Co 15:22). It is for this cause that Joseph could have no role in the birth of the Son of Man. Indeed, no man could have a role, for it is through the male that the inheritance of sin proceeds. I do not claim great understanding as to why this is the case, but the record of Christ’s birth makes clear that it is. Mary, who had not known a man, gave birth, and the seed of sin was not present in the one she bore. So critical was this point that Joseph, presumably informed by the Spirit of God, refrained from having relations with Mary until that child within her had been born. There must be no doubt, no least potential for the sinful influence of Adam’s legacy.
I am going to suggest, and I stress, only suggest, that the greater crime here was Adam’s neglect of duty. He should have stopped this from happening. He should have gently corrected Eve’s mistaken answer, and cut off the whole process at the head. Indeed, it could be argued he should have given answer to the serpent in the first place, and not left it to Eve to do. But, the lure of autonomy was too strong. The lure of power was to easy. And through one man sin entered into the world, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men, because all sinned (Ro 5:12). It would be tempting to try and read that ‘one man’ back in the Genesis sense of things, and suggest that Paul is thinking of Adam and Eve as one, the one flesh root of humanity. But he doesn’t allow us to soften the blow in that way. “Nevertheless death reigned from Adam until Moses, even over those who had not sinned in the likeness of the offense of Adam, who is a type of Him who was to come” (Ro 5:14).
[11/19/19]
Here we find cause once again to stop and think about what was just said. Paul writes of the period between the first sin in Eden and the giving of the Law and observes that in spite of the lack of any declared law, and in spite of the fact that those who lived during that period had not sinned in the same way that Adam did, they in fact died, undergoing the full penalty of sin. Ergo, it must be that they in fact sinned. It becomes a necessary conclusion that this is so. But it is that matter of not sinning ‘in the likeness’ that captures my attention. Its phrasing can’t help but bring our thoughts back to the creation of man in Adam. “Let us make man in our likeness.” Here, it is a question of sin that is not ‘in the likeness’, but the parallelism of thought is there, particularly as we are considering Adam, and Adam’s role, in that passage.
Here, the lexicons are helpful in letting us understand the sense of the term being used, homoioemati, at my best approximation. The term has that sense to it, of being like that to which the comparison is made, if not by direct image than by other reasons. Yet, it must be stressed that this likeness is not complete, but permits of distinguishing differences. Thus, Jesus in the likeness of man has yet those distinctions that are His by the nature of Him being God. He is human, but sinless. He suffers all the temptations common to man, but without sin.
So, then, these of whom Paul writes in that pre-law period may not have, like Adam, eaten from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Indeed, given the angels posted at the entrance back into Eden, it would seem utterly impossible that any could have done so. Yet, death shows that in fact they did sin. They identify with Adam yet have their differences. They are all sinners as heirs of Adam’s sin, but their sins vary. They are all rebels against a holy God, whether or not they are possessed of clear and explicit instruction as to His commandments.
