Adam and Eve: in His image and likeness
Monday, July 27, 2015
*Rogelio Zelada
In the book of Genesis, the sacred author shows us a God who is word, communication. God speaks to the newly created man, to give him his blessing and entrust to him all his work, and to let him know how to behave in this house that is his Eden.
In the first book of the Bible, from the earliest beginnings, two questions reverberate, transcending time and history: "Where are you?" and "Where is your brother?" That "Where are you?" allows us to see the first face of God, which permeates the Old Covenant.
Genesis has sent us to an empty desert with no trace of life, a desolate place where Father God forms the first man from the dust of the wilderness and gives him life with his own breath. At the heart of this dead place, God himself has planted a garden of exquisite beauty, not for his own delight but for the survival of the one he will entrust to cultivate and protect it; a vast place, with space for beasts and animals, birds and fish, which is complete when God creates a partner for Adam, a partner whom God prefers to bring out of the man's ribs and not the clay of the road.
A bad influence in the form of a very cunning snake disturbs the balance that God has sought for the happiness and harmony of his creatures. It is not about a more or less fresh and tasty fruit, but about breaking down barriers, about expelling God himself from paradise and taking sole possession of all creation; a gesture and a sign that foreshadows and expresses all the revolts of Israel against their God, and also those of many nations and people throughout human history.
God, like any neighbor, seeks relief from the heat by taking a walk outside in the cool of the evening, and is surprised at not finding his favorite creature in the usual place. "Where are you?" The first man responds nervously from among the trees, “I heard you in the garden; but I was afraid, because I was naked, so I hid.”
God is not concerned about the nakedness but its cause, the awareness of it, the manifest disloyalty of him who, having need of nothing and everything within reach of his hand, decides to assume a role that does not belong to him.
They have been deceived by the voice of a malicious serpent, echo of the inner beat of selfishness and self-sufficiency that deafens the ears and disrupts comportment. But, unexpectedly, the blame falls inexorably on the Creator himself: “The woman whom you put here with me—she gave me fruit from the tree, so I ate it.” A veritable reproach by any standard; a false declaration of innocence that Eve, opportunistically, unloads on the treacherous serpent. “The snake tricked me, so I ate it.”
God has called the human person from the clay of the ground with the absolute intention that he will be His image and likeness. God did not create man to be his servant or slave. He created him from the fragile clay, gave him his spirit and treated him not only as his friend, but even put him in charge of all his plans, for all creation.
The story of Genesis allows us to discover a God who creates by will and not out of necessity; who does everything alone and by himself, and whose creation is essentially good; a God who does not feed on the offerings of his creatures, and continues to rely on men and women, always hoping that they will be able to make good decisions, make proper use of the great gift of freedom.
The question, “Where are you?” places us before a gentle father, worried about his children, who again and again gives them the opportunity to correct their ways, to bring order to the chaos and light over all darkness.
Cain, who cannot stand the behavior of his brother Abel, commits the first but unfortunately not the only fratricide in history. The cry of God is heard not only at that terrible moment, but resonates constantly, every day, at every moment, in every culture. God asks again and again, "Where is your brother?" so that, over time, that same question is addressed, fratricide after fratricide, to all believers called from the beginning to take care of their brother: not only their brother in flesh and blood, but their fellow man, their neighbor, the poor, the fallen, whom many claim to love but “cannot stand the sight of,” just like Cain with Abel.
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