Genesis 3:1-24 · The Fall of Man
The Rest Of The Story
Genesis 3:1-24
Sermon
by Maxie Dunnam
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As Adam and his sons, Cain and Abel, were walking one day, they passed the beautiful Garden of Eden. Just to pass by was an experience. Adam knew what was inside those beautiful gates -- the lush fruit, the gorgeous flowers -- it was a place of endless delight.

An angel with a flaming sword was guarding the gate. Adam said, "Boys, take a good look. That's where we lived before your mother ate us out of house and home."

In the words of Paul Harvey, "that's the rest of the story."

The first chapter of Genesis closes its account of creation with the words, "And God saw everything that he had made, and behold it was very good."

In the second chapter of Genesis, where the second story of creation is told, that creation story reflects the same kind of perfection, "And out of the ground the Lord made to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food, the tree of life also in the midst of the garden. And the tree of the knowledge of good and evil." (Gen. 2:9)

It was a picture of beauty and pleasantness -- the perfection of all creation symbolized in a garden. Into that garden, God puts the man whom he has formed, with the woman he has given him for a helpmate -- but then comes the rest of the story.

It is my story -- your story -- for Adam and Eve are you and me.

I.

Note first the gift of free will. God gave Adam and Eve some options. Here is something we often miss in the story -- the permission God grants is greater than the restriction he put on them. The Garden was an open orchard -- trees and flowers of every kind -- fruit and beauty unsurpassed, even a river running through the midst of it.

God singled out two trees -- the tree of life and the tree of knowledge of good and evil. And he said to them -- "Of this tree -- this one tree of knowledge you shall not eat. What he granted was so expansive, his restriction was very focused.

Isn't there a lesson in that for us? We tend to focus on the restrictions of life -- and are always being tempted to go against those restrictions -- to rebel. We don't take enough time, we don't give enough thought to the positive options that are ours throughout life.

Here is the introduction of free will. From the very beginning, God gave us freedom. He had no intention for us to be robots. God's intention for Adam and Eve was that they choose fellowship with Him -- eternal life -- life in the Garden. Did you note that the tree of life was not on the prohibited list. God's intention for us was partnership with him and dominion over his creation.

So we can always choose. We can choose not only what we do in relation to God -- we can choose what we do in response to what life does to us.

This past summer I read an old book. I usually get around to reading books long after they are published -- especially novels and the like. If I keep hearing about them, that helps me make a decision about what to read -- since I have so little time to read for fun. This one was published over 30 years ago back in 1952. It's entitled Adventures in Two Worlds, written by A. J. Cronin, a physician turned novelist. In his travels after World War II, he went to Vienna. Some of it was very depressing -- battered houses, heaps of rubble, bombed buildings. The melancholy spectacle of the blown-up Danube bridges. He said, "I had foreseen affliction, but not this empty, silent desolation, which, like a chill, pervaded these gray and dingy shuttered streets." And that empty, silent desolation crept into his bones -- bringing a blind anger, a sullen resentment against God that such things would happen.

He found himself out in the edge of the city when a freezing rain began to fall and he had to take shelter in a small church which had escaped destruction. The place was empty and almost dark. Impatiently he sat down to wait until the worst of the downpour should pass.

Suddenly he heard footsteps, and turning around, he saw an old man enter the church. He wore no topcoat and was clad in a thin, much- mended suit which was painfully shabby. As he advanced down the altar, Cronin observed with surprise that he was carrying in his arms a child, a little girl of about six, dressed also in the garments of poverty. When he reached the railing of the altar, he put her down gently. Cronin could tell that there were no movements in her limbs -- that she was paralyzed. The old man, still supporting her, with great patience, encouraged her to kneel, arranging her hands so that she could cling to the altar rail. When he had succeeded in getting her into position, he smiled at her, as though congratulating her on her achievement. Then he knelt beside her. For a few minutes, they remained there in prayer. Then he took a candle, lit it, and gave it to the child. She held it for a moment, then placed it on the altar.

The old man picked her up again and carried her out of the church. Cronin couldn't help it. He felt an irresistible impulse to follow them out onto the church porch. It was an awkward moment -- he tried to engage them in conversation. "It's very cold," he said. The old man answered politely, "Less cold than it has been this winter."

Cronin couldn't keep his eyes off the child and her blue eyes were fixed on him. "The war?", he asked as he looked at the girl. "Yes, the war -- the same bomb killed her mother and father." Then there was another long pause. "Do you come here often?", Cronin asked, and then regretted immediately that he had done so, but the old man took no offense.

"Yes, every day -- to pray." He smiled faintly. "And also to show the good God we are not too angry with Him."

Cronin could find no reply. As he stood there in silence, the old man straightened himself, buttoned his jacket, picked up the shafts of the little buggy with which he carried the little girl -- and then moved away into the gathering darkness.

Cronin wanted to go after them -- to offer assistance -- to give money -- to strip off his warm coat -- but he remained rooted in his spot -- unable to move. He knew this was no case for common charity -- that anything which he could give would be refused. They had given so much to him. They who had lost everything, refused to despair. They still believed. And Cronin confessed to a feeling of confusion rising in him. But then there was no anger in his heart. No concern for his own petty deprivations. But only pity and a pervading sense of shame.

The rain had ceased -- but Cronin didn't leave. Instead he went back into the little church, down to the altar where the little beacon still burned, in the no longer empty church. One candle in a ruined city. But while it shown, there seemed hope for the world." (A. J. Cronin, Adventures in Two Worlds, McGraw Hill Book Company, Inc., New York, London, Ontario, 1952, pp. 294-296).

We can always choose. We can choose not only what we do in relation to God -- we can choose what we do in response to what life may do to us.

II.

But let's move on with the rest of the story. Here we see how sin gets at us. Outlining that lesson, note first that evil is ever present in the world. If you read carefully, you can't miss the fact that temptation to disobey God came to Eve from a voice outside herself. It was a clever voice. The first verse of our text says, "Now the serpent was more subtle than any other wild creature that the Lord God had made." How the serpent came to be there, and how evil got into the human environment, is not the concern of this sermon. Our concern is to recognize that evil is there.

It's obvious that Satan assumes many forms. We think of him as originally being a snake. But I was puzzled one time when I saw a pen and ink drawing of The Fall by Rembrandt. The artist had pictured Satan as a grotesque dragon, half hidden among the branches of the forbidden tree, with wings and claws, while below an apprehensive Adam received the fruit from Eve. A careful reading of the scripture shows that Rembrandt could have been right in his depiction. The serpent was not a snake as we have imagined him to be. Because the scripture says that when the Lord cursed the serpent he said to him, "Because you have done this, cursed are you above all cattle, and above all wild animals; upon your belly you shall go and dust you shall eat all the days of your life" (Gen. 3:14).

But whether a snake, a dragon, a serpent -- it's obvious that Satan assumes many forms -- and the main truth to recognize is that Satan is present in the world.

However you picture evil, I hope that you recognize that evil has an objective existence. We can't think of it simply as a vague, negative force in our life. It's active -- fighting desperately in every cunning way possible to deceive us, to pull us down, to destroy us, to get us to eat that forbidden fruit.

And evil doesn't just come to us as one gigantic demonic force. It's not a single voice that calls to us -- there are many voices -- many forces.

Have you read This Present Darkness? It's a novel about a modern war -- a modern struggle for the lives of persons, for a city -- a war between the forces of darkness and the angels of light. It's poor as a novel, but powerful in its message. I don't agree with the literal depiction, but the message must not go unheeded. There are demonic forces organized to defeat us, to lure us away from God, or keep us from coming to God in the first place. Paul was certain of it, and we should be. Ephesians 6:12: "We are not contending against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers."

The rest of the story shows us how sin gets at us. And under that point we note that Satan is present in the world.

Secondly, we note that Satan appeals to legitimate human desires and urges. In Eve's case, the serpent appealed to her desire for knowledge -- the gift of wisdom. And obviously, the fruit was good for food. So evil gets at us through our God-given capacities. "Evil seduces youth by making them aware of the creative forces which God has given them, and saying, "Come, enjoy the forbidden fruit. Sex is as natural as eating. Why should ancient taboos and puritanical standards rob you of the joy of its embrace?" (C. Willard Fetter, The Mighty Beginnings, edited by Garland Evans Hopkins, The Bethany Press, St. Louis, 1956, p. 49).

The prophet motive is certainly a legitimate factor in life. It's not the only motive for living, but it is an important one. Profits, rather they are in dividends, wages, or salaries are necessary, we are to live, just as food was needed for Adam and Eve. But Eve fell when she took unnecessary food at the cost of disobeying God. When business says, we'll make our profits rather or not our products are of real value, or whether or not it can be done honestly," that is sin. It is, of course, just as much sin for a worker to say, "As long as I collect my wages and can get a raise, I do as little real work as possible." (Fetter, p. 50)

Evil gets at us by appealing to legitimate drives within us -- sex, profit, risk, knowledge -- to mention just a few. And getting us to use them selfishly and in disregard of the laws of God. Evil, in fact, urges us to become our own gods. "Eat, and you will be like gods," says the serpent. This appealed to pride, power, and prestige is the most dangerous aspect of evil. "Whom the gods destroy, they first make mad" with pride." (Fetter, p. 50)

But not only does sin get at us by appealing to legitimate human desires and urges, sin gets at us by making exciting promises. In a Garden of Eden, those promises were two-fold: "You will not die and you shall have knowledge which will make you as God."

"So, standing before the forbidden tree, fenced in as it were by the command of God, with Satan whispering sweet nothings in her ear, Eve must decide whether the command to leave the tree of knowledge alone is a parapet, a protective wall to keep them from falling into a terrible abyss, or whether it is a barrier preventing them from experiencing their full happiness.

"Satan flung a crave in on Eve. She simply must have the forbidden fruit! So our parents in the Garden decided God's command was a barrier. They decided Satan's promise was true -- they believed it a lie and were damned." (Earl C. Davis, "Satan's Empty Promise", Preaching, March April, 1988, p. 34)

Satan still makes exciting promises.

All of us are almost paralyzed by the onslaught of drug use in our nation and in the world. That onslaught is so dramatic, we are giving too little attention to alcohol, and the way the alcohol industry has charmed us into lethargy about this evil. Our scripture lesson says "the serpent was the most clever beast God had made." Cleverness is certainly part of the stock and trade of organized forces which make exciting promises, and ensnare us in those promises.

Have you noticed the cleverness of the alcohol industry -- charming us -- using glamorous sports figures to sell the good life that requires drinking. How clever they are. Knowing the death toll of drink (insert figures from Courier about alcohol). They even spend millions of dollars pretending to be the good guys by telling us not to drive when we drink, as though a drinking person can make that kind of responsible decision. No wonder the Devil is called "The Prince of Lies". How clever he is -- how enticing his promises.

So, the rest of the story tells us how sin gets at us.

III.

It also tells us that Adam and Adam's children are always shifting the blame, or seeking to. Eve said, "The serpent tempted me. He misled me. Adam was even worse in his effort. When God found him with his guilt he said, "The woman you gave me -- she made me do it."

It is part of the strategy of evil to make us believe that we have no personal responsibility for our actions. "So long as you have 15 million people who want to gamble, says a politician, you can't stop bookmaking." He implies that the bookmakers are not responsible. On the other hand, the man on the street says, "So long as races are allowed to be run, and betting is at least condoned by the law, you can't blame me for betting" -- implying that others are responsible for his actions...".

"Clearly the old story of Adam and Eve is meant to teach us that no matter how evil gets at us, we still make the final choice. Whether we obey God, or become gods unto ourselves is up to us. (Fetter, pp. 52-53).

IV.

And a final lesson the rest of this story teaches us is that we are forever caught in the struggle between good and evil.

People of faith, caught in that struggle, still proclaim the goodness of God. This is what Paul did in his letter to the Romans. He wrote that letter to men and women who were experiencing suffering, death and persecution -- persons who might be carried off to the coliseum and fed to the lions at any moment. To them Paul wrote, "I consider that the sufferings of this present time, are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God...the whole creation has been groaning in travail...and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the...spirit, groan inwardly as we wait for...redemption...if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience." (Romans 8: 18-25 RSV).

"St. John, exiled on the Isle of Patmos, dreamed of the fulfillment of God's creative purpose when he wrote, 'I saw a new heaven and a new earth.'" (Rev. 21:1 RSV).

He said that the sea, the Old Testament symbol of chaos, and the physical reality separating John from his people, the sea vanished -- it was no more. So the revelation of John is the final version of the restoration of the hope of the creation story." (James Harnish, Journeys With the People of Genesis, p. 22).

There is no escape from the struggle -- we will forever be caught in it -- the struggle between good and evil. To live by faith, though, is to know that one day God will see the Creation's goodness restored. One day God will see this world again, as it was on the first day of Creation. One day God will say again to the entire created order, "That's very good."

Maxie Dunnam, by Maxie Dunnam