NOW THE SERPENT was more crafty than any of the wild animals the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?”
2The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, 3but God did say, ‘You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.’ ”
4“You will not surely die,” the serpent said to the woman. 5“For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”
6When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. 7Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.
Original Meaning
GENESIS 1 RECOUNTED the establishing of functions and the installation of functionaries, which brought order out of chaos to produce the operational cosmos. Genesis 2 provided the means to address the nonfunctionality of the blessing: food acquisition (the garden) and reproduction (Eve). Now in Genesis 3, human disobedience complicates the free functioning of these elements of the blessing.
The Serpent (3:1a)
THE TEXT BRINGS the serpent on the scene with little introduction and no strategic identification. We will consider the connection to Satan under Bridging Contexts, but for now it is important to understand the details the text does give rather than read between the lines. We will therefore discuss the creature, the characteristic, and the classification.
Creature. When the Israelite audience considered the serpent, certain ideas would be associated with it in their minds. In the ancient world the serpent was viewed as possessing mystical wisdom and as a demonic and hostile creature.
Throughout the ancient world, [the serpent] was endowed with divine or semidivine qualities; it was venerated as an emblem of health, fertility, immortality, occult wisdom, and chaotic evil; and it was often worshipped. The serpent played a significant role in the mythology, the religious symbolism, and the cults of the ancient Near East.1
In Egypt, where Israel had spent several centuries, the serpent was considered a wise and magical creature. Wadjet, the patron goddess of lower Egypt, is represented as a snake (uraeus) on the pharaoh’s crown. This came to symbolize the power of the pharaoh. But additionally Apopis, the enemy of the gods, in the form of a snake, represented the forces of chaos. Most significant in Mesopotamia are the intriguing characteristics of the Sumerian god Ningishzida (also, Gizzida), city-god of Gishbanda in the vicinity of Ur. Not only is this one of the deities who offers Adapa the bread of life by which he can attain immortality, he is also serpent in shape, rules in the netherworld, and is connected to some primordial tree.
Ningishzida was . . . a power of the netherworld, where he held the office of “throne-bearer.” Originally he seems to have been a tree-god, for his name appears to mean “Lord Productive Tree,” specifically perhaps god of the winding tree roots, as he was originally envisaged in serpent shape.2
The creation account in Genesis 1 contained no serpentine sea monster to threaten God’s establishment of cosmic order, but here we find a serpent who begins to work against the order that exists in the human realm.
The characteristic. In the context of Genesis, the serpent is described as crafty (ʿarum), but not sinister or magical. Other translations have rendered this word “shrewd” (NJPS) or “cunning” (NKJV). That this description is neutral with regard to good and evil can be seen from the fact that it is a quality considered worthy of pursuit in Proverbs (e.g., Prov. 1:4; 8:5; 15:5) as well as an attribute of Dame Wisdom (8:12). It is often seen as the remedy for naiveté, which is especially significant in Genesis 3, as the serpent’s shrewdness is contrasted to the nakedness (ʿ arummim) of the man and woman (2:25) through wordplay.
Nonetheless, ʿarum can carry negative connotations, as in passages such as Job 5:12, where the shrewd are plotting against God, and Job 15:5, where shrewd words are used to devious ends. In Exodus 21:14 the murderer acts in this way to snare his victim. If tempered and controlled in the context of the fear of the Lord, this can be a positive quality. But if it is used as an instrument for the schemes of our human fallenness, it can be dangerous.
The classification. It is important to recognize that the serpent is simply classified as one of the wild animals. This classification mitigates any speculation concerning an Israelite understanding of a hidden identity of the serpent. There is no god or demon or genie lurking beneath the guise of the serpent. It comes with nothing out of the ordinary that would alert the woman’s suspicions. Of course, we cannot help but wonder what she thought when the serpent talked. This will be discussed under Bridging Contexts.
The Temptation (3:1b–5)
THE SERPENT INTENTIONALLY misconstrues the command of God by formulating a question designed to get the woman to express the command in her own words. The serpent then targets the penalty as Eve expressed it. It has often been noted that Eve adds that the tree was not to be touched. But the narrative does nothing with that miscue. That obvious addition does, however, alert the reader to the fact that Eve is giving her own rendition. It is then her next phrase, also a variation, that becomes crucial. She does not repeat the syntax of God’s statement (“You will surely die”) but simply says, “or you will die.”3 She has not misrepresented God, but she has blurred an important nuance. There is a difference between the two, and the serpent capitalizes on the oversight by negating Eve’s version rather than God’s. We must investigate the serpent’s statements both in terms of what he says will not happen and what he indicates will happen.
First, a technical study of the syntax shows that the serpent knows enough not to deny the precise penalty as God worded it. God’s statement in 2:17, “You will be doomed to death,” was discussed in the previous chapter (see pp. 174–75), where it was identified as an absolute infinitive coupled with the finite verb of the same root. To negate this sort of syntactical construction, the negative particle is placed between the two verb forms, in effect negating the finite verb.4 In this case that leads to the translation, “You will not be doomed to die.” But that is not the construction the serpent uses. Instead, the negative particle precedes both verb forms, thus negating the absolute infinitive. This construction occurs only two other times in the Old Testament (Ps. 49:8; Amos 9:8). Since the absolute infinitive serves in these cases to indicate the inevitability of the action, the negation of the infinitive absolute is a negation of the inevitability.5 He has contradicted Eve’s phrasing of the penalty, not God’s, though he has not said that she will not die. The serpent’s statement can therefore be paraphrased something like, “Don’t think that death is such an immediate threat.”
The link to the next statement creates the sense that, according to the serpent, it was never really God’s intention to put them to death. “He only said that to discourage you from acquiring the marvelous properties of the tree.” In effect, then, the serpent does not actually contradict God; he only suggests that there is nothing to worry about.
When the serpent then suggests what will in reality take place (3:5), it is difficult to find fault with his statement. In 3:22 God confirms every part of his statement. We have already noted in chapter 2 that the knowledge of good and evil appears to be a positive pursuit. Here we discover it is a trait that makes one “like God.” Why would such a tree be forbidden? In ancient mythology the gods do not possess qualities that are particularly attractive to humans, but certainly their powers are enviable. In that context, the gods want to prevent people from becoming like them and withhold anything that may lead to that result. It is simply a matter of the gods jealously guarding their divine prerogatives and status.
This is the picture attributed to God by the serpent, but it is a misrepresentation. Such behavior is not at all characteristic of the God of the Bible. He is possessed of qualities and characteristics that he wants people to emulate or acquire. If (1) the tree is not prohibited because what it grants is bad, and if (2) it is not prohibited because of divine repression, then one can logically conclude that the prohibition concerned timing. So, for instance, there is nothing wrong with driving, but there is something wrong with a five-year-old driving. Or we might observe that sex is a wonderful creation of God, but there is an appropriate time for such activity.
God’s prohibition of the tree need not lead us to conclude that there was something wrong with what the tree gave (remember, everything was created “good”). Rather than God’s putting the tree there simply to test Adam and Eve, it is more in keeping with his character to understand that the tree would have use in the future. When the time was right, the first couple would be able to eat from it. One can compare this to the temptation of Christ, when Satan offered him all the kingdoms of the world if Jesus would bow down to him (Luke 4:5–7). There was nothing wrong with Christ’s ruling all the kingdoms of the world—it was his destiny. The temptation involved bypassing appropriate process and timing, seizing them through deviant means.
Adam’s Role (3:6)
WHERE WAS ADAM through all of this? The text tells us, but for some reason we have been reluctant to accept what the text says: Adam was there with Eve. What else can verse 6 mean besides that he was present at the temptation? If Adam’s being with his wife only means that he is in the cosmos with her or an occupant of the garden with her, it is a nonsensical and unnecessary statement. In addition, the text cannot be construed to say simply that he joined her by partaking of the fruit. If the text wanted to say that, the prepositional phrase “with her” would be in the clause with the verb “eat” instead of where it is, in the clause with the verb “gave.”
Finally, it should be noted that all the verbs in this section are plural. From verse 1 where the serpent addresses the woman but uses the plural “you,” to the woman’s use of inclusionary “we” and the serpent’s description of the results formulated to both, there is every grammatical indication that both are there.6 Why does the woman do the speaking then? Because she is addressed (v. 1). Why does the serpent address the woman? The text does not say. Why does the man not correct the woman’s statement? Again, the text offers no explanation.
The Results (3:7)
AS THE SERPENT indicated, their eyes are opened. The first view their new knowledge gives them is shocking: They become suddenly aware of their nakedness. We must address this statement seriously. For all the potential transformations that may have taken place as a result of eating from the tree, the text only gives us one before/after glimpse. Before eating they were naked and unashamed; after eating their eyes are opened and they know they are naked. This contrast draws together the issues of shame and knowledge. We deduce that they were not ashamed because they were unaware of their nakedness, and conversely, when they become aware, they feel shame.
Their response to this new feeling is to craft coverings for themselves from fig leaves. Fig leaves are the largest leaves found in Canaan and provide limited covering for the shamed couple. It is also intriguing that the fig tree becomes a symbol of fertility.
SERPENT AND SATAN. From the New Testament (esp. Rom. 16:20 and Rev. 12:9), it is easy for us to connect the serpent and Satan. This theological conclusion, however, comes as a benefit from progressive revelation. What results does Old Testament exegesis produce?
Satan terminology in the Old Testament. In ancient belief the world was full of supernatural powers, known and unknown, good and evil, active and passive, chthonic (connected to the netherworld) and celestial. Despite Israel’s theological distinctness from her neighbors, she shared in much of this belief.7 Today we live in a modern world that is often skeptical about the supernatural. Yet Christianity has historically affirmed the existence of demons, angels, and the archenemy, Satan. We have therefore traditionally adopted an approach to the Old Testament that posits a significant degree of continuity between their beliefs and ours. Indeed, a substantial amount of our information about Satan is derived from Old Testament texts.
Before we glibly equate Israel’s beliefs with our own, we must examine the texts on their own merit and within their own contexts. Before we can commend an exegetical identification of the serpent as Satan in Genesis itself, we must ask, “What did the Israelites know about Satan?” If we were to build a profile of Satan solely from the Old Testament, what emerges?
“Satan” is one of the few words in English that has a Hebrew origin. In the Old Testament it finds usage both as a verb and a noun. As a verb śaṭan means “to oppose as an adversary” (Ps. 38:20; 71:13; 109:4, 20, 29; Zech. 3:1). As a noun it can be applied to a human being, thus designating him an adversary, as follows:
Reference | Adversary | To whom |
1 Samuel 29:4 | David | Philistines |
2 Samuel 19:22 | Abishai | David |
1 Kings 5:4 | Political enemies | Solomon |
1 Kings 11:14 | Hadad (Edomite king) | Solomon |
1 Kings 11:23, 25 | Rezon (Aramean upstart) | Solomon |
Psalm 109:6 | An evil man | Psalmist’s enemy |
Finally, in the category of most interest to this study, the noun is applied to supernatural beings (14× in Job 1–2; 3× in Zech. 3:1–2; Num. 22:22, 32; 1 Chr. 21:1).
There are no cognates to Hebrew śaṭan in related Semitic languages Ugaritic or Akkadian, though the root does occur in Aramaic, Syriac, Arabic, and a number of distantly related languages. If the technical usage (noun applied to supernatural being) is original and the other usages developed from it, we would have to conclude, judging from the nuances of those other usages, that there was little of a sinister nature in the being, for these other uses evidence none of that element. In contrast, however, the broadly generic sense of the common noun and verb suggests that the technical usage is a secondary development. If so, it is logical to assume that a supernatural being would have been given this designation as a description of his function, that is, a heavenly adversary.
This finds confirmation in the fact that in most of the cases where the noun is applied to a supernatural being, the definite article is attached to it. In English when we refer to someone by means of a proper name, we do not use a definite article (e.g., “Sarah,” not “the Sarah”). In this practice Hebrew behaves identically. Therefore, we conclude that the individual in Job 1–2 and Zechariah 3:1–2 should be identified not as “Satan” (proper name) but as “the accuser” (description of function).
Another assumption we have often carried blindly into the Old Testament is that the technical term always applies to the same supernatural being, a single Satan. This is easily refuted by the fact that Numbers 22:22 and 32 speak of “the angel of the LORD” as being a śaṭan (NIV “to oppose [Balaam]”). Not only can we identify śaṭan here as a functional designation, but we can also now consider the possibility that as a function it is not intrinsically evil.8 Furthermore, since we cannot assume that the angel of the Lord is the accuser in every context, we must accept that the accuser is not necessarily always the same supernatural being.
Consequently, it is possible that the individual designated the accuser in Job is not the same individual designated the accuser in Zechariah or Chronicles. Though they may be the same, we cannot simply assume that they must be or that the Israelites would have considered them to be the same individual (though the function is certainly similar).9 It may be that only later revelation has provided the information necessary to aggregate all the accusing functions into one individual. Based on the use of śaṭan in the Old Testament, we must conclude that Israel had little knowledge of a being named Satan or of a chief of demons, the devil.
Satan and the serpent. There is no hint in the Old Testament that the serpent of Genesis 2–3 was either identified as Satan or was thought to be inspired by Satan.10 The earliest extant reference to any association is found in the Wisdom of Solomon 2:23–24 (first century B.C.):
For God created man for immortality,
and made him the image of his own eternity,
But through the devil’s envy death came into the world,
And those who belong to his party experience it.11
Here there is reference to the devil, though still the name Satan is not given to him. In fact, the devil was variously named in early Jewish literature:
This figure normally became Sammael in the Targum and in rabbinic tradition, but in a text known as the Apocalypse of Abraham, preserved only in Slavonic translation but datable to the same period that inspired the Syriac Baruch and the Apocalypse of Ezra, the seductive angel is called Azazel.12
Unlike Christian theology, pre-Hellenistic Israel did not embody all evil in a central figure or trace its cause to a single historical event.13 Therefore, they were quite willing to recognize the serpent as representing an evil influence without any attempt to associate it to a being that was the ultimate source or cause of evil. In fact, the author of Genesis seems to intentionally underplay the role or identification of the serpent. This correlates with the other polemical elements of the early chapters of Genesis.
It is important to remember that in the ancient world most cosmological models were built around a god’s taming or defeating the chaotic forces, often represented in the sea.14 In Canaanite literature this role of chaos was played by the serpentine Leviathan/Lotan. By contrast the biblical narrative has stated that the great sea creatures were simply another of the beasts God created (1:21). This demythologizing polemic may also be responsible for avoiding any conspiratorial uprising theory for the existence of evil.
In conclusion, we do well to cite the treatment of this issue by the renowned conservative scholar, E. J. Young. While he recognized that Satan is not mentioned in the passage, Young contended that “it is perfectly clear that Satan is here at work.”15 One might reasonably ask, “Perfectly clear to whom?” Young goes on to clarify his remark:
In the light of the plain statements of the New Testament [he refers to John 8:44; Rev. 12:9; 20:2] we have every right to say that Eve was tempted of the devil. The evil thoughts which issued from the mouth of an actual snake found their origin in the devil himself. In some sense that we cannot understand, for God has not revealed it unto us, the snake was an instrument used of the devil. To attempt to explain how the devil employed the snake is a task of which we are not capable, nor is it particularly profitable that we should know how this was done. That it was done, however, the data of the Bible compel us to believe. We are far from saying that Eve herself understood this when the words issued from the serpent’s mouth; even Moses, the writer of Genesis, may not have had the full knowledge of the subject that is possessed by New Testament believers. [italics added]16
Young appropriately differentiates between our theological beliefs and the findings that can be exegetically derived from Genesis. We should also be reluctant to impart to the Old Testament texts the information that Satan is to be equated with the serpent. Likewise, we cannot rely on the narrative of Genesis 3 to enhance or inform our understanding of the Old Testament view of Satan. Nonetheless, on the strength of allusions such as Romans 16:20, we are justified in accepting that the New Testament authors identified the serpent with Satan; note too how Revelation 12:9 refers to “that ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan,” and John 8:44 names Satan the father of lies. Thus, we can be comfortable with that identification from a theological standpoint, even if the association was not recognized by Old Testament Israel.
In conclusion, the New Testament views the serpent as related to Satan and so ought we, but it offers few details about how close an identification should be made or how the two were related.
Exegesis and doctrine. Genesis has traditionally played a prominent role in the discipline of systematic theology. Many of the cherished doctrines of the faith have been built at least partially on texts from Genesis as supporting evidence. From a methodological standpoint, we should admit that it is possible to call into question the relevance of any given text to a particular doctrine without calling the doctrine itself into question. Systematic theology begins with the question, “What do we believe?” and draws on the whole counsel of Scripture as it seeks to articulate and support the tenets of the faith. Exegesis begins with the question, “What does this text say?” and draws on the context and the language to elucidate the author’s communication to his audience. Since they start with different questions, the theologian and the exegete might end up with very different affirmations about the text.
In this commentary, the approach has been mainly that of the exegete. Lest it at times appear that certain biblical doctrines suffer at the hands of this exegesis, it is important here to enumerate a number of important doctrinal affirmations.
• God created everything from nothing (Col. 1:16–17; Heb. 11:3), even if Genesis 1 does not tell that entire story.
• The Holy Spirit always existed (Heb. 9:14), even if the author and audience of Genesis knew nothing about him.
• The Trinity is a biblical doctrine (Matt. 28:19; 2 Cor. 13:14; 1 Peter 1:2), even if the fact of the Trinity is not revealed in the Old Testament.
• Jesus is the Messiah (Matt. 16:16–17; John 4:25–26), even if Genesis does not give an indication of that.
• Satan is the source and cause of all evil, even if the Israelites had little knowledge of him.
• God made provision for Old Testament saints in eternity, even if the Old Testament does not delineate the details of their redemption.
All of these affirmations are firmly entrenched in the fabric of the traditional theology of the church and in my own belief system. Holding such beliefs, however, does not mean that we must find them in every nook and cranny of the canon. Exegesis using sound hermeneutics must guide us in each passage, and the role of progressive revelation must be recognized. Decisions against traditional exegesis need not, and do not, represent a departure from orthodox doctrine.
Myth or history? A first grader was sitting in class as the teacher was reading the story of the Three Little Pigs. She came to the part of the story where the first pig was trying to acquire building materials for his home. She said, “And so the pig went up to the man with a wheelbarrow full of straw and said ‘Pardon me sir, but might I have some of that straw to build my house with?’ ” Then the teacher asked the class, “And what do you think that man said?” My friend’s son raised his hand and said, “I know! I know!” he said. “Holy smokes! A talking pig!”17
How do we respond to the talking serpent of Genesis 3? There is an exercise that I conduct with my sixth-grade Sunday school class on doctrine when I am trying to explain to them what we mean when we say the Bible is true. I read several stories to them from various sources (Aesop’s fables, odd newspaper stories about animals behaving in strange ways, etc.), asking after each one whether they would consider the story true or not. Then we talk about their reasons for their conclusions as well as discussing what they think the author wanted us to believe. Invariably one of the conclusions they draw is that the examples from Aesop cannot be true because they feature animals talking, and we all know animals cannot talk. I then read the narrative of Genesis 3 to my sixth graders and ask them whether it is a true story. Their confusion and uncertainty creates a wonderfully teachable moment.
How do I work through this with the kids? One of the stories I read them concerns a dog who regularly gets into the refrigerator while his master is gone, takes out the catsup, squeezes the contents out all over the floor, licks it up, and drops the empty bottle in the trash can. The owner thinks he is losing his mind when he can never find the catsup that he is sure he just bought. The mystery is finally solved when one day the dog misses the trash can with the empty bottle and the evidence leads to discovery. When the sixth graders respond to this story, they initially indicate that it is not true because animals do not act this way. Their answers change immediately when I tell them the source: The story came from a news item in the local paper. It wasn’t on the comics page but was reported as news. This information changes their answer immediately, and they accept the story as unusual but factual. Even sixth graders have learned to be students of genre, and, as we all do, they judge the story by its source.
This is exactly the point as we come to the narrative about the serpent and the Fall. The larger methodological issues have already been discussed in the introduction under the heading, “Genesis and History.” Regarding this passage in particular, unless one is willing to consider the whole of Genesis 1–11 as myth (which I am not), the face value of the text suggests that the author wants us to believe that this event really happened. Moreover, the reality of the Fall is an essential foundation to Pauline theology, and the New Testament consistently shows it considers the events of Genesis 3 to be true, as historical realities. Thus, as students of genre and considering the source, we must discount the unnatural behavior attributed to the serpent and accept the story at face value.
What happened at the Fall? Mesopotamian literature offers us some examples of how the ancient world incorporated some of the issues of this chapter into a very different worldview. Westermann highlights some of the significant issues of the narrative as he compares them to two accounts in ancient Near Eastern literature: the Tale of Adapa and the Gilgamesh Epic.18
Like Genesis 3, the Tale of Adapa cites an opportunity for a representative human, Adapa, to gain a characteristic of deity, but the issue is reversed from Genesis. In Genesis, Adam and Eve have access to the tree of life but not to the tree of wisdom. Adapa, in contrast, had been given wisdom but not eternal life (line 2). Moreover, rather than being tempted to take something that has been withheld, Adapa is tricked by the god Ea into refusing the boon of eternal life being offered by the god Anu. In other words, as Westermann points out, Adapa loses out by obeying rather than by disobeying.19 He refuses something that was for his own good because he has been persuaded it was evil. Adam and Eve accept something illicit because they have been persuaded it is for their own good.
In the Gilgamesh Epic, the parallels are found in the seduction of Enkidu. Enkidu was created by the gods as a compatriot for Gilgamesh. He accompanied him in his endeavors and distracted Gilgamesh from being oppressive toward the people of Uruk. Enkidu’s lack of wisdom is portrayed in his animal-like existence. When Shamhat, a prostitute sent to capture Enkidu by seducing him, succeeds, he is rejected by his animal friends. Shamhat’s explanation of this rejection is that he has now become wise like the gods. The text describes this in various ways, indicating that he had acquired judgment or reason20 and knew his own mind.21
Though this newfound wisdom is accomplished through a sexual mechanism, Enkidu’s similarity to the gods was not predicated on sexual activity. Sex was merely his initiation into the civilized world. As part of the civilizing process Shamhat takes half of her garment and clothes him in it. Here we can see that the change is considered desirable in that it leads to a wisdom equated with civilized behavior. Again, though the Gilgamesh narrative represents the reverse of the Genesis narrative, many of its motifs continue to find use in Genesis.
These parallels offer us a basis by which we can contrast what we find in the Genesis account to what circulated in the rest of the ancient world. As we begin to unravel the Israelite understanding of the Fall, just a few pieces of evidence are provided for our consideration.
1. The meaning of the knowledge of good and evil
2. The significance of nakedness in the before-and-after pictures
3. The role of the fruit and tree
4. Correlation to the statements of 3:22
In addition, our understanding must address two points of logic:
1. What Adam and Eve gain must be viewed as something they do not possess but naturally desire.
2. What they gain must have some reason for being forbidden.
The most common interpretation in traditional theology is one that sees the tree as a probationary test. In this view neither the tree nor its fruit have any particular qualities. Instead, one gains knowledge of good by passing the test and resisting the temptation. In contrast, one gains knowledge of evil by succumbing to the temptation and eating of the fruit. As we consider the merits of this view, it appears to have trouble with each of the four criteria listed above.
1. It separates the knowledge of good from the knowledge of evil as is done nowhere else in the use of the phrase (ignoring the merism as it does so). It cannot easily be reconciled with the record of Eve’s statement that the fruit was desirable to make one wise.
2. It ignores the nakedness issue altogether—why should their nakedness become evident to them just because they disobeyed and failed the test?
3. It devalues the significance of the fruit and tree in that God could have just as easily made the test a river that they weren’t to swim in or a mountain they shouldn’t climb. In contrast to this, the report of Eve’s statement focuses on the fruit’s capacity to make one wise. One might object that Eve’s assessment is not normative, but she is closer to it than anyone else. The text gives every indication that there is a property in the fruit itself (just as there was in the tree of life) that would lead to the knowledge of good and evil.
4. It is difficult to reconcile this view with 3:22, because it portrays Adam and Eve as gaining knowledge of evil (instead of good) through their experience of evil. There is no way that this can be construed as being like God in his knowledge of good and evil.
In other words, this view appears to make the tree little more than a theological token, and in so doing fails at every turn to account for the evidence provided in the text.
The knowledge of good and evil has been discussed already and is the first key toward approaching a solution. We interpreted it in Genesis 2 as wisdom that gave one the ability to discern and be discriminating (see pp. 170–72). This is more subtle than the idea that the fruit gave Adam and Eve the ability to know the difference between good and evil (sense of morality).22 But if we ask what condition an Israelite might imagine that would feature a lack of knowledge of good and evil, the answer is ready at hand: children—or by analogy, those who are inexperienced. If we also ask what condition typically features individuals who are unashamed of their nakedness, the answer is the same: Children run about naked with little concern for modesty (or for their parents’ embarrassment).23
These factors suggest that prior to the Fall, the text presents Adam and Eve as possessing a childlike perspective, a preadolescent frame of mind. In eating from the tree they undergo the hormonal changes that accompany adolescence and become sexually aware as well as gain a more mature perspective on themselves and the world around them. This gives them a degree of autonomy and the ability to make decisions for themselves independent of God. The sexual awareness is a side effect, not the definition of the knowledge, so there is no conflict with 3:22.
We must consider problems with this view. Some object that such a preadolescent condition precludes Adam’s ability to carry out the tasks attributed to him in chapter 2, especially the care of the garden and the naming of the animals. With regard to the first task, note the discussion about serving and preserving, where we suggested that those do not require advanced horticultural knowledge. For the second, it is important to remember that Adam’s naming of the animals was not a display of wisdom but of authority. They were his to name. One might compare the situation when children receive a stuffed animal for a gift and are told they may name it whatever they wish. While the choice may end up something completely arbitrary, it will often reflect something about the toy or circumstances surrounding the receiving of the gift. A preadolescent Adam would be perfectly capable of carrying out this task.
A second objection suggests that this view compromises the blessing to be fruitful and multiply given in 1:28. How could this blessing have been given and actualized if the human pair had no sexual awareness yet? Again we have only to consider what we know of children to find the answer. Little girls and boys play house all the time. They fully expect to grow up and get married and have children. That doesn’t mean they are ready to do it right away, but they are made aware of the potential that the future holds. Likewise, Adam and Eve would have been aware of the potential the future held for them.
A third objection asserts the unfairness for the destiny of the human race to be put on the heads of a preadolescent Adam and Eve. How could children have sufficient understanding to be held responsible for their actions? Once more we must consider what we know of children. Is there a parent who has not had the experience of puzzling over the complexities of a decision only to find that their children see right through the complexities to the black and white of the issue? Children are often much more capable of seeing things in terms of opposites. Furthermore, obedience and disobedience is the first thing that most parents hold their children responsible for, even as young as two and three, and I am not suggesting anything that young for Adam and Eve.
My interpretation, then, is that in eating of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil Adam and Eve passed into (or through) adolescence.24 Their desire to eat from the tree stems from the natural desire observable in preadolescents to gain some independence and make their own decisions. In passing through adolescence, they also became sexually aware and therefore knew that they were naked. Their newfound knowledge did indeed give them the maturity, independence, and autonomy that would allow them to be described as like God in that regard. Temptation is most effective when it dangles something before us that can easily be interpreted as good. Satan himself recognizes this as he masquerades as an angel of light (2 Cor. 11:14).
Satan must appeal to our God-given appetite for goodness in order to win his way. . . . To prevail, evil must leech not only power and intelligence from goodness but also its credibility. From counterfeit money to phony airliner parts to the trustworthy look on the face of a con artist, evil appears in disguise. Hence its treacherousness. Hence the need for the Holy Spirit’s gift of discernment. Hence the sheer difficulty, at times, of distinguishing what is good from what is evil.25
In this view, God has prohibited the tree because autonomy and sexuality should come only at the end of an appropriate process. Adam and Eve are not ready for it. Our society is well-aware of the problems that arise when children are given autonomy too early or become sexually active too young. It is not the fruit that brings death. It is the disobedience that brings the sentence of death, carried out by their being denied access to the tree of life.
This approach addresses all the pieces of evidence as well as accounts for the logical necessities of the case. As is often the case in everyone’s experience, “growing up” falls far short of its billing. Any independence we experience is fleeting as old dependencies are simply replaced with new ones. We find this to be the case in Genesis 3 also as the conversation with God restructures the dependencies between God and his people.
Contemporary Significance
HOW DO WE view this search for independence from God today? For most of the centuries of human fallenness people have been willing to admit regretfully that there was no sadder day in history than the one described in Genesis 3. But in our society, autonomy has been elevated to new heights. It has become not uncommon to hear the opinion that it was commendable for Adam and Eve to seek autonomy and that it was worth the cost. R. Simkins offers his opinion that “as appealing as paradise might be, this is not the world in which humans live, nor is it the world in which humans prefer to live.”26 Is independence really a good thing? It gets good press, but it has its drawbacks. There are always trade-offs.
As we think about it, we should first be careful not to confuse independence with freedom. One can have freedom even when heavily dependent on another. Countries may seek independence in order to achieve freedom from a tyrannical or oppressive situation. Yet in a democracy we choose to be dependent on elected officials, though we contend that we still enjoy freedom. Indeed, we would do well these days to heed John Locke’s persuasive essays warning that without limits there is no true freedom.27 The apostle Paul too reminds us of our freedom in Christ (Rom. 8), yet we rejoice in our dependence on him.
C. S. Lewis observes that a parent’s love for a child acts in order to eliminate the child’s need for the parent. God’s love, in contrast, is not optimized in his becoming superfluous but in our becoming dependent on him in continually maturing ways.28 God offered nothing less to Adam and Eve than the privilege of freedom and the joy of dependence. Our society treats this as an oxymoron and labels God a tyrant. In rejecting dependence on God (though in no way escaping from it) people choose a far more costly dependency—on themselves and their own resources. In seeking autonomy, freedom, and power, they only forge new chains.
This elevation of autonomy has been portrayed in all its attractiveness in contemporary cinematography. This is clearly evident in the movie The Truman Show, which was probably one of the most theologically intriguing films of the 1990s. It tells the story of a man named Truman who was unwittingly the star of a TV show that was his life.
Without his knowledge, he was born and lived his entire life in a huge television studio. For over thirty years, he did not know that everyone he came into contact with—his father, mother, wife, friends, and even the people walking their dogs down his street—were paid actors, nor did he know that he was the subject of a television show that played twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. There were five thousand cameras in the studio, in the buttons of actors, in street lights, in his desk at work. The weather and even the rising sun were controlled by computers. He was the center of a huge soap opera, and what caught the attention of the audience was the fact that he did not know it.29
As the show proceeds, odd occurrences make Truman increasingly aware that something artificial is going on. He finally succeeds in tricking the cameras and making his way across the man-made ocean, surviving a contrived storm, and reaches the edge of the set as he bumps into the horizon. In this last extremity, the director, Christoph, his “creator,” finally communicates with him and tries to persuade Truman to remain in the world he has created for him. In an interview earlier in the film, Christoph had stated, “I have given Truman the chance to live a normal life. The world, the place you live in, is the sick place. Sea Haven [Truman’s town] is the way the world should be.” Christoph’s benevolent intentions for Truman are clear, but Truman opts to accept all the uncertainty of life outside the bubble in order to gain his autonomy. The audience in the movie, undoubtedly along with the majority of those viewing the movie, cheer wildly to applaud Truman’s heroic choice that cost a lot but purchased so much more.
If the script of Genesis 3 were written today, Eve especially, and Adam secondarily, would be the heroes. Like Truman, they boldly choose wisdom and knowledge over a controlled security. Compare the sentiments expressed by the android Andrew Martin in the film Bicentennial Man (starring Robin Williams). He wants to be considered human rather than machine and in the end builds mortality into his system to accomplish that end. In his speech to the United Nations he says, “As a robot I could have lived forever. But I will tell all of you, I would rather die a man than live for all eternity as a machine.”
The cost was great, but the gain was worth it. One modern reader of Genesis expresses it this way:
Eve’s decision to eat the fruit is the first act of human independence. This independence forces the human and the divine into a real relationship of give and take rather than an artificial relationship of puppet and puppeteer. Eve does not “sin”; she chooses reality over her naïve, paradisiacal existence. Her choice marks the emergence of human character.30
H. C. Brichto frames it similarly when he sets up their choice as between personal eternal life (no death, no sex) and propagation of the race (by sex, with death). He implies that Adam and Eve should be commended for their noble choice. Among those who feel free to deconstruct the text, the serpent becomes the hero, leading the first couple to enlightened freedom from the chains of bondage in the garden set up by the villainous deity.31
It is a hallmark of our society that personal freedom and the right to liberty are values above all others. Even eternal life is dispensable. Is God really nothing more than a benevolent manipulator like Director Christoph in The Truman Show? It will be instructive for our view of God to observe some important differences.
1. God’s control was not diminished by Adam and Eve’s choice. When Truman left the set, he walked totally out of reach of Christoph. Neither Adam and Eve, nor any of us, has the choice to remove ourselves entirely from God’s control. Dependencies may shift and transform, but dependency will never go away. Without God we do not exist.
2. God does not manipulate, because his sovereignty never needs to be protected from jeopardy. Christoph’s manipulation was designed to maintain the margin of control that he had and that was constantly in danger of evaporating if Truman became aware of his situation.
3. God’s actions are not selfishly driven. He has no needs. Christoph, though benevolent, did not act out of pure altruism for Truman’s sake. He had much to gain both psychologically and professionally. God has nothing to gain. In fact, we can say that God cannot be selfish, because selfishness results from a desire to elevate oneself and meet one’s own needs. God cannot be elevated any more than he already is.
4. God’s plan for Adam and Eve included more autonomy and wisdom—in the right way at the right time. Christoph could take no such risks. Any knowledge was dangerous. He intended only to maintain the status quo.
5. Christoph controlled choices and prevented choices. In fact, Truman never knew he had a choice. All through the film but especially in the end, Christoph plays an active role in trying to prevent Truman from learning the truth and escaping. It was only when he was powerless to stop Truman that he offers him a choice. In contrast, God made the choice between obedience and disobedience clear.
6. If one is looking for a comparison to Adam and Eve in The Truman Show, it would be better to consider the situations of the actors and actresses. Though they were controlled by Christoph, that was mostly through their own choice. They gave up their freedom in order to live in his created world. In contrast, one of the actresses, Sylvia, who longed for Truman’s release, attempted to invade that world and give Truman understanding. She chose to disobey the director and was cast out, losing the benefits of the artificial world of Sea Haven. She is the figure most comparable to the serpent, but in the movie she is one of the heroes. The film ends with her running out of her apartment to go find the liberated Truman and welcome him to the real world.
Glorify this bold embrace of autonomy though they will, many find the reality hollow. Left to the moviemakers, the sequel to The Truman Show might portray Christoph trying again, while Truman and Sylvia try to infiltrate the set to free the new victim or perhaps even become involved in an intrigue targeting Christoph. But what kind of life would we see for Truman, were there a realistic sequel? I picture him building a hovel on the outskirts of the studio that was his world and wondering if there was a door back in. Even if there were, it would never be the same, because he would always know that the Sea Haven world was built on deception. There is the difference, because as we look back into Eden along with Adam and Eve and the hundreds of generations that have come and gone since then, we know that it is Eden that was the true reality. The world we know is the deception. C. S. Lewis captures the contrast as his Narnians enter the heavenly country that looks remarkably like the Narnia they have left, though with important differences.
I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved Old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this.32
Nevertheless, there is no return. Peter Jones illustrates this in the story of Madame Helena Blavatsky. At the end of the nineteenth century this Russian princess abandoned her roots and formed the Theosophical Society in New York, which attempted to merge Western occultism with Eastern spirituality. Later in life she was quoted as lamenting to a friend: “I would gladly return, I would gladly be Russian, Christian, Orthodox. I yearn for it. But there is no returning; I am in chains; I am not my own.” To this sad commentary Jones appends, “The trouble with this freedom is that it is slavery to the powers of Evil. Its glittering promise is the same old lie. Its wages lead to personal dissolution and death. But it is a real lie, spoken by the Father of Lies.”33
Charles Colson and Nancy Pearcy note that our society is discovering the same thing as modernity has played out its destructive logical consequences. They conclude that the failure of individual autonomy to deliver is what has led to the cultural shift to postmodernism.
All the ideologies, all the Utopian promises that have marked this century have proven utterly bankrupt. Americans have achieved what modernism presented as life’s great shining purpose: individual autonomy, the right to do what one chooses. Yet this has not produced the promised freedom; instead it has led to the loss of community and civility, to kids shooting kids in schoolyards, to citizens huddling in gated communities for protection. We have discovered that we cannot live with the chaos that inevitably results from choice divorced from morality.34