A friend of W. E. Sangster, the great English Methodist preacher, was stopped by a tramp one day. “Excuse me, sir,” said the tramp. “I know I have no business to stop you. If I am caught begging I’ll be the guest of his Majesty for a bit. I guess I’m not much to look at. Poverty doesn’t help a man look handsome and there’s no denying I don’t live straight, sir. I paid the penalty to the full, but by heaven, sir, you don’t know the man I meant to be!”

Peel the pathos of that.

Go to another scene: an old movie. The setting for the particular scene is a tavern where the main character, played by James Cagney, stands at the bar drinking. His wife comes to the door of the barroom and calls to him, “John, come on home.” The man turns slowly and looks at her, and then says deliberately, “I am home.”

Peel the sadness of that. The sense of imprisonment the man knows, and the helplessness of the woman.

Now, one more story. Years ago, it was reported that a young teenage girl was found in the woods, severely beaten and unconscious, left to die. She was taken to a nearby hospital but there was not a single item of identification on her, and in her unconscious state she could not reveal in any way who she was. An alert was sent out, and the missing person’s bureau notified in hopes of finding her family. In the meantime, the hospital staff gave her a name, Jane Doe. Days went by and hundreds of parents came to the room, hopeful that she might be their missing daughter, only to discover that she was not. In the meantime, the entire hospital staff became interested and involved in her life, creating a new family of caring for her and about her.

She never regained consciousness and died, unclaimed, no one really knowing who she was. A funeral mass was held for her in the hospital chapel, which was packed with her new “adopted family” of hospital personnel. Jane Doe had died unknown by her real name and unclaimed by her family. But, within the Christian understanding of life and death, she had died known by God where her true identity exists.

Feel the tragedy of that - the fact that the young woman may never have known who she was and claimed for herself that she was known by God who had a prior claim upon her life.

Now let’s go to the story of stories - my story and your story - that ancient drama from Genesis which was our scripture lesson today. The drama moves through two people, Adam and Eve, made in the image of God, sinless and in a situation unmarred by evil. The stage is set for conflict as Adam and Eve eat the forbidden fruit, suddenly become aware of their nakedness and guilt, seek to hide from God only to be confronted by him, and thus driven from Paradise. We have called this story “The Fall”.

Whatever else we get from the story, this much is clear. Man is not only a creature of God, he is a creature in rebellion against his Maker. When we understand and accept this, the story of Adam and Eve, the serpent and the Garden, become the story of every person. Adam, the gardener who became a rebel and then a fugitive is you and me. The pattern of our lives may not be the same, but the life pilgrimage we make is. First, we are gardeners. In our innocence we are in harmony with nature, with God, and with our fellows. Then we rebel. We won’t accept our humanity. We want to be as God. We eat the forbidden fruit and become less than human. Sin comes to reign in our lives. And life is never the same again. We become fugitives, plagued by guilt, hiding from God.

Darius Leander Swan has written a choral drama entitled The Circle Beyond Fear, in which he presents the case of Cain, who slew his brother Abel, as the case of every man. The chorus announces our frantic situation “In the Circle of Fear” when we begin running, hiding, evading God.

The cloud of our defiance
Blots out the face of God;
We wander in our wilderness,
Naked, unhoused, unshod.
In the circle of his fear,
‘Neath the sun’s unblinking eye
Cain will fly and fly and fly
In a hopeless, helpless circle
Where God is dead
And men have but to die.

In a world shaped to his will
He can only run add kill,
Kill and run, Run and kill,
Until he die.

Interpret “the Fall” how you will - and there is much more to it than most of us have ever been willing to face - the obvious fact is there. This is our experience. This is what the Eden story is all about. We were created in God image, whole, but we marred the image, pervert wholeness, rebelled and became fugitives not only God, but from our true humanity. And therefore, we are forever caught in a web of sin.

Chuck Colson, of Watergate infamy, has suggested the best illustration of this amazingly from Mike Wallace and the “60 Minutes” TV program. Wallace was introducing a story about Adolf Eichmann, architect of the Holocaust. Wallace posed a central question at the program’s outset: “How is it possible…for a man to act as Eichmann acted? Was he a monster? A madman? Or was he perhaps something even more terrifying: was he normal?”

Normal? The executioner of millions of Jews normal? Most self-respecting viewers would be outraged at the very thought.

The most startling answer to Wallace’s shocking question came in an interview with Yahiel Dinur, a concentration camp survivor who testified against Eichmann at the Nuremburg trials. A film clip from Eichmann’s 1961 trial showed Dinur walking into the courtroom, stopping short, seeing Eichmann for the first time since the Nazi had sent him to Auschwitz 18 years earlier. Dinur began to sob uncontrollably, then fainted, collapsing in a heap on the floor as the presiding judicial officer pounded his gavel for order in the crowded courtroom.

Was Dinur overcome by hatred? Fear? Horrid memories?

No; it was none of these. Rather, as Dinur explained to Wallace, all at once he realized Eichmann was not the god-like army officer who had sent so many to their deaths. This Eichmann was an ordinary man. “I was afraid about myself,” said Dinur. “...I saw that I am capable to do this. I am…exactly like he.”

Wallace gave a summation: “That is a horrifying statement; but it indeed captures the central truth about man’s nature. For as a result of the Fall, sin is in each of us.

Then Colson made his own moving testimony Listen to him:

“It was 10 years ago next month that I went, during the throes of Watergate, to talk with my friend Tom Phillips. I was curious, maybe even a little envious, about the changes in his life. His explanation - that he had “accepted Jesus Christ” baffled me. I was tired, empty inside, sick of scandal and accusations, but not once did I see myself as having really sinned. Politics was a dirty business, and I was good at it. And what I had done, I rationalized, was no different from the usual political maneuvering. What’s more, right and wrong were relative, and y motives were for the good of the country - or so I believed.”

Chuck said that that night when he left Tom’s home and sat alone in his car, his own sin – not just dirty politics, but the hatred and pride and evil so deep within – was thrust before his eyes forcefully and painfully. “For the first time in my life, he said, “I felt unclean, and worst of all, I could not escape. In those moments of clarity I found myself driven irresistibly into the arms of God.

“And in the 10 years since that night,” he added, “I’ve grown increasingly aware of my own sinful nature; what is good in me I know beyond all doubt comes only through the righteousness of Jesus Christ.

Do you have the picture now - clearly. The struggle of our life is the struggle with sin - an inner and an outer struggle we wander aimlessly in the land “east of Eden” until we come home.

Coming home is what we are going to act out now, as we come to Lord’s table for Holy Communion. No cherubim or flaming sword now guards the way to the tree of life. He who is our host here, to welcome us to a homecoming banquet is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. The way home from east of Eden has been marked by his blood. The Tree of Life is his cross. The Bread, the Fruit of that tree, and the Wine we take is this sacrifice for our sins. The Way is open to those who will meet the conditions of the invitation. And what is the invitation?

Ye that do truly and earnestly repent of your sins. Get that. Repentance, painfully aware of our sins and of our sinful nature, truly sorry and grieved that we keep failing to live as He calls you.

And are in love and charity with your neighbors. Don’t miss that. Forgiven by Christ, we live forgiving lives – loving others as Christ has loved us.

And intend to lead a new life. This is no perfunctory ritual we perform now and then. This is serious business. It is commitment - following the commandments of God and walking from henceforth in his holy ways.

Come home! That’s the invitation. From wherever you are - east of Eden, or just outside on the lawn - or within the house, but not in intimate fellowship with the host, our Lord Jesus. Come home! On into the dining room - to sit at The Table with Jesus.

Draw near with faith and take this holy sacrament to your comfort, meekly kneeling in repentance and joyful homecoming.

Amen.