In the Garden: Honoring Eve

Robin Bolen Anderson
8 min readMar 15, 2022

Genesis 3 as a Coming of Age Story about a Serpent, Humankind, and Blame

Image: Cultivated soil with 2 small pots, a spade and a newly planted plant on the right side. In the center, written in green, are the words In the Garden: Honoring Eve.

Now the serpent was more crafty than any other wild animal that the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden’?” The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden; but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the middle of the garden, nor shall you touch it, or you shall die.’” But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not die; for God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate; and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves. ~Genesis 3:1–7, NRSV

Last week we ended with Adam and Eve dwelling together in a lush garden filled with beauty and goodness, a garden designed to bring humankind joy and delight in addition to shelter and sustenance. The two humans’ job is to till, or to serve and protect, the earth, but the garden flourishes regardless. God is in Eden with them. At this point, the humans seem to know only goodness, as they have no knowledge of evil and no experience of shame.

How quickly the story shifts, though.

Genesis 3 opens with the appearance of a serpent, a creature called “more crafty than any other wild animal that God created.” We are often told that the serpent is Satan. However, that connection is made in Revelation. In Genesis, it’s just a talking snake.

But, in much of the ancient world, serpents were seen as being wise. Since they shed their skin, they symbolized the shedding of ignorance and a rebirth into wisdom. As an example, in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus tells his disciples that he’s sending them out like sheep among wolves. He warns his followers to be wise like snakes and innocent like doves.

The cunning serpent slithers up next to the woman and asks her a question, “Isss it true that God hasss forbidden you to eat fruit from any tree in the garden?” Do you see what the sneaky snake does? It doesn’t dare her like children trying to coax a peer into knocking on the door of the house they think is haunted. Instead, the crafty serpent asks a subtle question designed to make the woman doubt herself and/or God. “Did God really say this?”

It is only natural that Eve does doubt herself after hearing that question. “Did God really say it? Do I remember it correctly? Or that she begins to question God. “Why would God say that? Why wouldn’t God want me to have knowledge?”

Eve’s response to the serpent’s question is just as intriguing as the reptile’s tactic in asking it. She replies that they can eat from all of the garden’s trees, except for the one tree in the middle of Eden. However, if they eat or touch the fruit from that tree, they’ll die. This is interesting because God does not forbid the humans from touching the fruit, only from eating it.

Why does Eve add to God’s prohibition? Does she misremember the interaction? Does the woman impose additional limitations on herself because she knows that touching the fruit will simply be too tempting? That, if she touches it, she won’t be able to resist the urge to eat it?

Now, it can be wise for us to put limitations on ourselves. For example, it’s wise to avoid substances, practices, and situations that are harmful or potentially dangerous. That’s why we wear seatbelts, try not to eat the entire box of Girl Scout cookies in one sitting, and avoid activities that would land us in one of those Jackass movies.

There are times when it’s also justifiable to establish limits for others. For example, if you know something is a dealbreaker for your marriage, it’s a good idea to tell your partner upfront. We need to set boundaries so that others don’t take advantage of us. There are undoubtedly valid reasons for caregivers to give kids a curfew and put parental controls on electronic devices.

We can’t, nor should we, avoid all limitations.

But how often do we, like Eve, restrict our own freedom or the freedom of others and put the blame on God? Unfortunately, we see this a lot in our present-day political discourse. People often invoke God as justification when arguing against certain freedoms for moral reasons. And we know way too many people who carry emotional scars from the long list of “shalt not’s” they learned in their church youth group.

We’re going to have different ideologies. We’re not all going to set boundaries in the same place. So just as we shouldn’t pretend that God didn’t establish any limitations, we should also be careful about projecting onto God prohibitions that come from our own sense of morality but don’t actually come from God. And we should certainly avoid blaming God for desired limitations that come from our personal prejudices.

Here’s why: In her book The Very Good Gospel, Lisa Sharon Harper defines sin as anything that breaks the harmony that God intended at creation. If that’s the case, might misrepresenting God, like Eve does, create a crack in the relationship between God and humanity? Could Eve telling the serpent that God forbade them from touching the tree actually be the beginning of sin in this story, not eating the fruit?

I love these early Genesis stories because they are rich with questions and food for thought.

The cunning serpent responds by enticing Eve to question God’s motives, “Die? You’re not going to die. I think God isss playing gamesss with you. You see, God knowsss the moment you eat fruit from that tree, something powerful will awaken in you. You’ll become like godsss, possesssing knowledge of both good and evil.”

There’s wisdom in the serpent’s tactic because it raises many questions: Is being aware of good and evil a bad thing? Does the innate human desire to be like gods lead us to trust ourselves more than we trust God? Does God mean that the humans will literally die after eating the fruit? Like, could they have dwelt in the garden forever if they hadn’t succumbed to temptation?

Oddly, in Genesis 2, when God says, “You will die,” the word die is actually written twice, so God tells the humans that, if they eat the fruit, they will “die die” or that they’ll “die a death.”

Could the death be metaphorical? Could God’s warning be that when humans choose to know both good and evil, they’ll stop trusting God? Or that their innocence will die? Could the knowledge of good and evil be like the thestrals in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix? To see them, you have to have experienced significant loss. Or is it like the natural process of maturing? Whenever we enter each new stage of life, we leave behind a certain innocence of the previous stage even as we step into expanded freedoms in the next.

Either the serpent isn’t aware of the consequences of becoming like gods, or the reptile chooses not to divulge them. Eve doesn’t take the time to consider the potential risks herself. Perhaps she’s greedy. Or impulsive. Or maybe she just trusts her instincts. She eats the fruit, delights in it, and shares it with Adam.

Perhaps this is a reminder that we humans aren’t God. We can confuse a mere rush of endorphins with joy, and we can experience dire repercussions if we simply follow our whims and impulses without thinking through potential consequences first. There is wisdom in trusting ourselves, but there is also danger in becoming like a god and trusting ourselves more than we trust God.

Immediately after eating the forbidden fruit, Adam and Eve become aware that they are naked and cover themselves. Shame becomes part of the human experience. Or maybe this is just another symbol that they’re growing up. You know, toddlers don’t care if parents take pictures of them learning to use the potty, but try showing those pictures to the former toddler’s prom date.

History suggests that perhaps early on, this story was seen as a coming of age tale more than a story of humanity’s fall. Some scholars say that until the Apocryphal books were written, Adam was generally seen as a hero, and the story of Cain and Abel was associated with the first sin. Makes sense, doesn’t it? Well, except for the part about Adam being a hero. In this story, he’s basically a knot on a log.

Speaking of heroes, let’s look at Joseph Campbell’s model of the hero’s journey. You know it because many of our most beloved stories follow it. A super simplified version is this: A hero leaves home, is tested, loses faith, and eventually regains it. Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird, Katniss in The Hunger Games, Harry Potter, and Moana all experience the hero’s journey. Many characters in the Bible do, as well. Think of Abraham, Noah, Moses, Job, and, to some extent, Jonah. Even Jesus loses his faith briefly when he asks from the cross, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?” Listen to what Elizabeth Lesser says about this in her book Cassandra Speaks: When Women Are the Storytellers, the Human Story Changes. Lesser writes, “Only Eve has been demonized for answering the same call. While the men of the Bible are allowed to fall in their humanness and rise in wisdom, Eve only falls. And womankind bears the scars of her sin instead of the honor of her courage.”

When God confronts the humans about their sin, Adam blames Eve. And humans have blamed her ever since. Ecclesiasticus calls Eve “second-born, first to sin.” 1 Timothy states that Eve, not Adam, became a transgressor; therefore, women are saved through childbearing. Augustine says that men must beware of Eve the Temptress in any woman. On and on. As recently as 2018, a Tennessee vice-principal got placed on leave after blaming Eve (and hence, all girls) for the school dress code. Here is a direct quote: If you really want someone to blame, blame the girls. Because they pretty much ruin everything. They ruin the dress code, they ruin… well, ask Adam. Look at Eve.” That was said four years ago. To an entire high school student body.

Blame.

Perhaps being tempted to test, bend and break boundaries is part of human nature. We have to choose between good and evil every day. Maybe we associate this story with a fall of humanity because, like Adam (who blamed Eve) and Eve (who blamed God), we need someone to blame because we don’t always choose well.

I’ll close with one more quote from Elizabeth Lesser. “But what if the whole point of life is to find Eden within and, in doing so, to create heaven on earth? This is what the awareness of good and evil really means: to recognize that all the light and all the [shadows] in the world also swells within your own heart, but instead of blaming the ‘other,’ our task is to become like gods- self-aware and responsible for choosing goodness over evil.”

May it be so.

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Robin Bolen Anderson

I'm a progressive Baptist pastor, and, no, that's not an oxymoron.