Archives for posts with tag: The Fall

https://bible.oremus.org/?ql=575175148

Genesis 2:15-17, 3:1-7; Romans 5:12-19

The first Sunday in Lent,  in preparation for the great Easter climax: a time of spiritual reflection, renewal, fasting. We are preparing for the events which revealed God’s love for humanity. God’s love, indeed, for fallen humanity, we often say. and that’s what our Bible readings this afternoon are about. The lesson from Genesis is sometimes described as the story of the Fall, and Christ’s passion and death, followed by his glorious resurrection, described in terms of sacrifice and redemption, salvation. Salvation for fallen humanity.

We know these stories. We know the story of Adam and Eve, and we know Paul’s famous passage contrasting Adam, who brought sin into the world, with the free gift, the grace of God, in giving us Jesus Christ. and I’m sure that as you’ve heard the lessons, as they were beautifully read just now, even if you aren’t word perfect in your memory, they were pretty familiar. 

But in the spirit of Lenten reflection, perhaps not in a full-on 40 days in the wilderness sense, but nevertheless, in the hope that it makes you quietly go away and think about this, let’s have a closer look at the Fall and the ‘free gift’.

Let’s look at the Fall. What did Adam and Eve do wrong? I remember when I first heard this bit of Genesis, where God tells Adam that he can eat the fruit of all the other trees, but not this funny tree called the tree of the knowledge of good and evil; I wondered what its fruit looked like. It’s one clue that this is not meant to be a scientific explanation of anything, that one of the key elements is that there is this mysterious tree. It’s not just a plum tree or an apple tree. 

But then again, what is wrong? What is wrong with getting to know the difference between right and wrong? The idea seems to be that, before the Fall, before the act of disobedience, humans, or at least the first humans, Adam and Eve, didn’t know the difference between right and wrong. They were in some kind of primordial innocence – but they were immortal, or at least that seems to be the implication, because the threat that God makes is that if they disobey him and eat the fruit of the tree of good and evil, “you shall die”. Later on in Genesis, it says, “you shall get your bread by the sweat of your brow until you return to the ground, for from it, you were taken. Dust you are, and to dust you shall return.” You will remember that phrase from the Ash Wednesday service.

But why should it be a bad thing to know the difference between good and evil? And is there any obvious link between acquiring an innate moral sense and becoming mortal? Without wanting to sound flippant, I do think that this is a fairytale. Or perhaps, to put it more positively, it’s a myth, a story told to illustrate a point. So I suppose the attractiveness of it, why it is such a compelling story, is that indeed, we are very drawn to sympathise with Eve. As the serpent says, “when you eat of the  fruit of the tree, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.“

 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”. 

What on earth is wrong with any of that? The only thing you can find in the text is that God told them not to do it. You might say that there was more to it. There was a suggestion that, as a consequence of them doing it, they would become mortal. 

Alternatively, (and I think this comes out from Saint Paul’s discussion that we will go on to look at in a minute), it’s not that they will become mortal, so much as that God will kill them. There will be a death penalty for their disobedience. They were always mortal, because that’s the nature of being human: but if they disobey God, God will punish them, he will inflict death upon them. Perhaps that is closer to the true meaning.

It’s all painfully like stuff we remember from childhood. ‘Why do I have to stop throwing bread rolls at my brother when we are having our breakfast?’

 Answer, ‘Because I told you not to.’

‘ Why not?’

 ‘Because if you carry on doing that, you will get a thick ear.’

The way that this is written, makes us realise that it isn’t the ability to tell wrong from right that is the problem – that ability is always a good thing – but it’s how Adam and Eve acquired this ability that got them into trouble. 

The important thing is that they disobeyed God. They went off in another direction away from where God had directed them. The problem is not that they knew the difference between good and evil, but that they had become estranged from God. They had ploughed their own furrow; they thought they knew better than God what to do. That is why it is described as sin. What Adam and Eve did was sinful. Sinfulness isn’t necessarily doing something which is morally wrong, so much as becoming cut off from God. 

That’s what Paul picks up on in his letter to the Romans. ‘Just as sin came into the world through one man, and death came through sin’, is what he says, not ‘bad things or doing bad things’ came into the world – and incidentally, St Paul seems to be a bit shaky on gender equality, because he only seems to blame Adam, whereas it looks as though the Fall was proximately caused by Eve: anyway, we’ll leave that for another day. 

St Paul sees the Fall as alienation from God, as sin, not just doing bad things. He repeats what Genesis says about the consequence of sin being death. I can’t help feeling that perhaps Paul reasons backwards from Jesus’s rising from the dead, from Jesus‘s resurrection, from his conquering death, as it is sometimes called, to infer that mortality was the consequence of sin, that alienation from God, disobedience to God, made one mortal.

That seems to be the logic, although I have to say, it’s one part of these passages that you either believe or not, because there’s nothing you can do to prove or disprove whether God made previously immortal people into mortals. 

Be that as it may, Paul contrasts the idea that Adam brought sin into the world – and as Paul says he is not treating Adam as a particular person, but, as the lesson says, “Adam, who was a type of the one who was to come“, or, as another translation [NEB] puts it, “Adam foreshadows the Man who was to come”– either way, it was not particularly Adam – or Eve – who was responsible, but mankind in general going away from the commandments of God.

The Greek word for sin is άμαρτια, which means missing the mark, shooting, and missing the target; Paul then goes on to talk about the effect of what he calls “the law“, that sin existed before the law, but until the law came along, you couldn’t measure how much sin there was. He means law in the sense not of statutes passed by government, but the Jewish law, which is intended to give direction, how to comply with God’s commandments. 

So, if you disobey the Jewish law, which is in the first five books of the Old Testament, and summed up in the 10 Commandments, then you have broken the law, not in the sense of being a burglar or a murderer, (although if you were one of those, you would be contravening some of the 10 Commandments) – but more importantly, you are committing sins, things which drive you apart from God. 

So Paul contrasts the beginning of sin, the Fall, the fall from grace, by Adam, the prototype man, he contrasts that with God’s gift, his grace, his free gift, to fallen mankind, in giving us his son, Jesus Christ.

Paul contrasts judgement following one trespass, which brought condemnation, and the free gift following many trespasses, which brings justification. 

‘Justification’ is a technical term in the Bible. It means being on good terms with God. Sometimes theologians translate it as being right with God, so as to pick up the connotation of justice; but it is more like what an engineer or a carpenter, or a toolmaker, might understand as justification: bringing a work piece into alignment with another work piece, justifying that piece with its intended place. 

You adjust something so that it fits. 

It’s that kind of relationship that St Paul is talking about here: not a question of being acquitted in a court of law. This all comes in the context where Paul has introduced the idea of “justification through faith“. The idea that you’re not put right with God by doing good deeds necessarily, although good deeds are a good thing to do anyway, but that you depend on God’s generosity. 

He is not so much rewarding us as being gracious to us, giving us what is translated as a “free gift” It’s a Greek word, which is translated as a free gift, but it also really means a ‘gifty thing’, a δωρημα as opposed to a δωρον. It’s the essence of generosity, the essence of giving, rather than just a particular present. And that squares again with the idea that we are being put right with God, being brought into adjustment, into a good fit.

Just one more puzzle, before I leave you to carry on musing on these really rich passages with so many things to ponder over. That is the consequence of the free gift. Saint Paul says that those who receive the free gift of righteousness are saved. They “exercise dominion in life” it said in our lesson, through that one man, Jesus Christ. It’s the conquest of life over death. We have the gift of eternal life. That’s what salvation is. 

You need to go on and do some homework and read the 15th chapter of Saint Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians to give you more detail about what eternal life is and how it works. Jesus showed that it is possible, by himself rising from the dead. St Paul gives you some very believable analogies to explain in more detail how we can expect eternal life to come about.

So those are some ideas which you might want to reflect on as you begin your journey into Lent this year. All the Fs, the Fall and the Freebie, the Free Gift.

And just one more thing, for those of you who have been tackling me about this.  What am I going to do by way of giving things up for Lent? I like to follow an idea which a former Lord Mayor of London had a good few years ago, called the absent guest scheme. 

Whenever I go out for a meal or some other refreshment, I keep a note of the bill and then, at the end of Lent, I calculate what it would’ve cost to have had another person present at each of these occasions, an ‘absent guest’. I tot up what the total cost of the absent guests would have been and give it to my chosen charity for that Easter.

This year I will be giving it, I hope, to the United Nations Relief and Works Agency, UNRWA, for their work in Gaza.

Sermon for Evensong on the First Sunday of Lent, 22nd February 2015, at St Mary the Virgin, Stoke D’Abernon

Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7: Romans 5:12-19

Wayne Fontana and the Mindbenders, in the single which reached number 2 in the UK Singles Chart in 1965, sang:

‘The purpose of a man is to love a woman:
The purpose of a woman is to love a man:

So come on, baby, let’s start today
Come on baby, let’s play
The game of love ….

It started long ago in the Garden of Eden,
When Adam said to Eve
‘Baby, you’re for me,’

So come on, baby, let’s start today
Come on baby, let’s play
The game of love, love, la la la la, love.’

I don’t think that you would really listen to it – enjoyable as it is – as a serious description of how the world works, or how human biology or evolution is to be explained.

But you might notice essential similarities with our two lessons this evening. In the Old Testament lesson, we are in the Garden of Eden: admittedly, we’ve got past the bit where Eve was created, either at the same time as Adam, if you follow Genesis 1, or from Adam’s rib, if you follow the version in Genesis 2.

We’ll let that go: they’re in the Garden of Eden, and Eve is being tempted by the serpent, who was more subtle – ‘subtil’ – s-u-b-t-i-l, in the King James Version – than the other beasts. More cunning.

Then in our New Testament lesson from Romans we have the antidote to the Fall, to Eve’s giving in to temptation and becoming sinful, separated from the goodness of God: the antidote to that was the ‘free gift’. ‘For as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.’ (Romans 5:19, NEB)

How gloomy are we supposed to be as we embark on our Lenten observance? I went to an Ash Wednesday service – not here, I have to say – where I was treated to an extremely gloomy sermon, emphasising the fact that ‘we are all ‘fallen’ human beings: sin has dominion over us, the Devil is ever-present, and ‘there is no health in us’. But the sign of the Cross in ash on our foreheads is a foretaste of the redeeming sacrifice of Jesus, the ‘propitiation for our sins’, as the ‘Comfortable Words’ in the Prayer Book put it.

But just as I would be rather reluctant to elevate Wayne Fontana and the Mindbenders to a position of any authority in relation to human biology and evolution, so I would want to suggest that the doctrines of the Fall in creation, and the redeeming sacrifice of Christ, are not to be taken literally. They reflect the way that people thought, 2- or 3,000 years ago, and to take them literally is to ignore the whole history of the Enlightenment and indeed, the riches of scientific discoveries from Darwin onwards.

That is not to say that I don’t believe that God created the world, or that God is our creator and sustainer. But I think that it is a mistake for us to take these beautiful stories as being the same thing as scientific analysis. Indeed if we start to take things like the Fall literally, we are then confronted with difficulties over whether in fact God made us in His own image; whether God is a good god, who always wants the best for us; or whether in some sense He is a cruel god.

And if we adopt a view of what Christ did at Easter as being some kind of a blood sacrifice, again, the implication is that God is some kind of cruel god, demanding human sacrifices.

These stories – they are just that, stories; remember that creation is a much earlier story than the one in the Bible: it resembles closely the Epic of Gilgamesh, which was even older – these stories are perfectly valid metaphors, helping us to try to understand what is beyond our understanding, which is, the nature of God.

But there are, of course, many things which we can draw from these stories which are very relevant to our Lenten reflections. If there is a purpose in creation, are we as God intended us to be? The idea of the Fall implies that we are not. We are ‘sinful’.

Sin is alienation from God: missing the mark, άμαρτια (the Greek means, ‘missing the mark’), falling short; it may indeed include doing bad things: but it is also a question of being somehow defective or falling short of what God intended us to be, and thereby losing our intimacy with God.

Satan tempted Jesus for 40 days in the desert, we are told. But it is very difficult for us to understand what Satan is, unless he is a mythical being, a personification of what it is to be on the opposite side from goodness and the light: to be separated from God.

If Satan indeed exists, or existed, that would imply that God created pure evil: which is not what we believe.

Something very relevant to our Lent reflections, something which I think was a wholly positive contribution by our church to our public life came out this week. It was the Bishops’ Pastoral Letter to all members of the Church of England, called, ‘Who is our Neighbour?’ It is intended to help us, as members of the Church of England, to approach the General Election in a constructive spirit, informed by our Christian belief. Of course, no sooner had the Letter been released than there was one MP on the TV, apparently, saying that it was inappropriate for the Bishops to say anything to do with the General Election, although she admitted that she hadn’t actually read the letter at the time she was spouting off.

So perhaps we should discount that, together with a number of newspaper columnists, who similarly flew into print, denouncing the letter as a leftist tract, which I have to say – and I have read it – it isn’t. What it is, is a really good tour d’horizon of all the major issues which confront our national life, which any politician who hopes to be elected at the General Election ought to be dealing with. The objective is not support for one ideology or another: the market or the state, taxation or free enterprise, or any of these other supposed dichotomies or dogmas, but rather what is going to reflect Jesus’ command that we should love our neighbours as ourselves.

The bishops are concerned to bring us closer to God, to what God intended us to be, the opposite of sin. What will make for a good society, based on compassion, on charity – the word in 1 Corinthians 13. Although wedding couples always have this piece as a lesson, and the word ‘charity’ is expressed as ‘love’ – you know,

Now abideth faith, hope, love,
These three;
But the greatest of these is love

– which is the ‘giving’ type of love, the Good Samaritan type of love, rather than the sort of love which Wayne Fontana was singing about.

I’m not going to give you a potted guide to the bishops’ letter. It is 50-odd pages long, but it is in quite big print and it has neat signposts which give you a running commentary as it goes along. So it’s an easy read, and it’s very well expressed. I will make sure that it is on the church website – which unfortunately it isn’t, yet – and I’ll see whether we can have at least one copy printed out and put in a binder at the back of the church for people, who don’t have Internet access, to refer to. [Click on https://www.churchofengland.org/media/2170230/whoismyneighbour-pages.pdf to read the letter]

If anyone is in that position, and would like me to give you a printed copy, I will be happy to do so if you mention it to me after the service.

So I would say, please don’t get too gloomy in your reflections during Lent. I don’t think that it’s right that we should give ourselves a hard time, on the basis that we are, in some sense, irredeemably fallen. The whole point is that we are redeemably fallen. We may become estranged from God: we may lose touch with His purposes in creation: but if we follow the commandments of Jesus, and in particular the commandment to love our neighbours, we will be redeemed.

So

Come on baby, let’s start today
Come on baby, let’s play
The game of love:

But not that type of love.