We see the level of trust God places in man in this key passage: “So the Lord God formed out of the ground all the wild animals and all the birds of the air, and he brought them to the man to see what he would call them; whatever the man called each living creature was then its name” (Genesis 2:19). In the biblical worldview, to name something was to have power over it, to give it shape and identity. By tasking Adam with naming the animals, God treats man as a partner, making him a steward and inviting him into a communion of life. In the beginning, there is deep connection and integrity, harmony and communion between God and man, and between man and the created world.
That communion extends to the relationship between man and woman as well. At the beginning of our story, Adam and Eve possess a deep communion with each other, a wholeness and mutuality characterized by intimate self-gift. We see this intimacy represented in the second account of the creation of man and woman in the Book of Genesis. After fashioning Adam from the clay of the earth, God knows that it is “not good for the man to be alone” (2:18), and creates a companion, a helpmate, a partner. Placing Adam in a deep sleep, the Lord God forms Eve out of one of Adam’s ribs. That is why Adam exclaims with such awe, “This one, at last, is bone of my bone / and flesh of my flesh” (2:23). In Eve, Adam sees one who is his equal in dignity, another person who is both different from himself and yet alike in the deepest of ways. For Adam, Eve is not simply other; she is beloved. The author of Genesis affirms this experience of integral intimacy and connection between Adam and Eve: for the “man and his wife were both naked, yet they felt no shame” (2:25).
Adam and Eve enjoy interlocking “webs” of communion in the Garden of Eden—communion with God, with creation, and with each other. In the garden, the love relationship between God and his creatures is to be lived out for all eternity. Adam and Eve have complete access to every wonder of the garden. God gives everything to them, with just one exception: they must not eat of the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.
As we journey into the second chapter of our story, this may seem like an arbitrary rule God simply drops on Adam and Eve. However, consider for a moment what this forbidden fruit symbolizes. God, by definition, is an eternal being—without a beginning or an end. Humanity, however, has a clear beginning. Therefore, we are not gods, and even though twenty-first-century culture focuses a great deal on self-determinism and choosing one’s identity, we are not the beginning and the end of our destiny, nor are we in complete control over what we experience. We are creatures, fashioned and made by a God who loves us, yet still creatures. The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, therefore, represents the limits of our creaturehood—our finitude.
It is precisely here that the drama of our story begins.
Satan—once the brightest angel named Lucifer who, upon learning of the divine plan for humanity and all creation, refused to submit to God’s will—invades the Garden of Eden, coming as a serpent to whisper lies into Eve’s ears. The Enemy immediately strikes at the heart of her relationship with God. He asks her if she and Adam are forbidden to eat the fruit of every tree in the garden. Already, we see the trust Eve has in her Creator begin to dissolve. She replies that they may eat of all the trees except one, and if they eat the fruit of that tree, or even touch it, they will die. However, God’s prohibition only mentions eating of the tree. Eve’s response is untrue. Even the serpent’s initial question about God’s commands starts to affect Eve. Her response does not reflect the loving trust of a daughter, but rather the attitude of one whose relationship with God is tinged with fear.
The devil launches his next attack: “But the snake said to the woman: ‘You certainly will not die! God knows well that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened and you will be like gods, who know good and evil’” (Genesis 3:4-5). This is often the devil’s preferred tactic, insinuating that God isn’t a good Father, but rather a jealous and imperfect one. When Satan utters those words, the trust Eve held for God continues to die in her heart. Looking at the tree, she sees that its fruit is delicious and good to eat. Surely, if my Father were a good Father, he would want me to enjoy the best food.
Eve also sees that the fruit is beautiful to behold. Surely, if my Father were a good Father, he would not want to deny me beauty.
Finally, Eve sees that the fruit is good for gaining wisdom, the knowledge of good and evil. Surely, wisdom is a precious thing to have, and if my Father were a truly good Father, he would not withhold wisdom from me.
Turning her back on God, Eve takes the fruit, gives some to Adam, and they both eat it, deliberately choosing to disobey God. Remember, the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil represents the limits of their creaturehood. In this transgression, called the Original Sin, Adam and Eve reject their status as limited creatures. They choose themselves over God. They choose against their true identity as people made in the image and likeness of God, preferring their own rule over the Father’s loving kindness. If the kingdom is about right relationship and communion with God, then to live under the loving dominion of the Creator is to acknowledge the truth about who God is and who we are. Through their choice to eat the fruit of the forbidden tree, Adam and Eve choose their own will over God’s, refusing to acknowledge the reality of their dependence on God as his sons and daughters.
In doing so, they fall right into Satan’s trap. In their desire to be free from God’s rule and from any dependence on him, they reject his kingdom and make a kingdom out of their own will—a kingdom of Man. The tragedy of the Great Story is that Adam and Eve exchange the truth for a lie: desiring freedom, they fall into bondage and take all of creation with them.
Everything Falls Apart
Remember that God created humanity to experience love, and love cannot be coerced. It must be freely given. Therefore, God has given us free will—not so we can choose between good and evil, but rather so we can freely choose the good and embrace our identity as God’s sons and daughters. When Adam and Eve, our first parents, choose disobedience instead of God’s love, they do not use their free will, they abuse it.
This abuse has serious consequences that ripple across all of creation. The very first consequence is that the intimate bond between Adam and Eve ruptures: “Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves” (Genesis 3:7). Previously, our first parents were naked in the Garden of Eden and experienced no shame. Now, their bodies have become sources of temptation for each other, and they are ashamed. They create clothing to cover themselves, and this layer of protection creates a barrier that separates them.
The brokenness in the relationship between Adam and Eve possesses more than a physical dimension. Adam and Eve, who were spouses, helpmates, and partners with each other, find themselves at odds now. When the Lord confronts them after they eat the forbidden fruit, Adam blames both God and Eve: “The woman whom you put here with me—she gave me fruit from the tree, so I ate it” (Genesis 3:12). Adam wastes no time in shifting the blame to his wife, throwing her “under the bus” with a loud, She did it!
The rupture in communion between Adam and Eve, however difficult and tragic, is not the final consequence of their choice. Because of our first parents’ disobedience, the intimate bond connecting humanity and God is ruptured as well. Adam and Eve’s decision leads them to separate themselves from God. After the moment of the fall, God enters the garden and strolls through it. Adam and Eve, however, are nowhere to be found. They are hiding from God—a real rift has formed between them.
This is what is meant by the “stain of Original Sin.” Since our first parents turned their backs on communion with God, all of their descendants—which is to say all of humanity (including you and me)—are born out of communion with God. This stain of Original Sin isn’t a moral judgment on babies or a statement that all people are now evil. We are still made in the image of God, but that image has been wounded.