Rev. Dr. Joel D. Biermann
Genesis 3:1-7
1st Sunday in Lent - March 5, 2017
Lent is certainly not the most popular season in the church. Not everyone, it seems, is fond of hymns in minor keys and most people tend not to get too excited about introspection and self-examination. Compared to that other penitential season of Advent, Lent doesn’t seem to offer as much. In Advent, people are consumed with getting ready for Christmas. Even the wider world plays along, broadcasting carols and saturating public spaces with holiday decorations. But, in Lent no one outside the church pays much attention. And getting ready for Easter is altogether less complicated and time-consuming than getting ready for Christmas. So, in Lent there’s not much planning to do. Lent is all that there is. For 40 long days plus Sundays, it drags by and there’s little to do to lighten the season. While the world around us is going spring with bunnies, flowers, little fluffy chicks, and pastel colors, the church subjects its people to somber music, low-key worship, and subdued, melancholy colors. No celebrating during Lent. But, I suspect that the most likely reason for the lack of enthusiasm harbored for Lent has less to do with the mood and the music than it does with a much more significant feature of Lent. The problem people have with Lent boils down to one thing: It’s sin.
The one thing you can’t escape during Lent is sin. Again and again we are confronted with the reality of sin and are compelled to think about the sin that fills our own lives. Sin is an uncomfortably common element of Lent. It’s the part that no one much likes. If Lent was just about the lengthening days of spring like the name says, if it was just about getting ready for Easter and thinking about Jesus and his passion, it would be a whole lot more popular. But, all the sin stuff ruins what could be good. No one likes discussing sin—at least not when it’s their own sin that is the topic. But, like it or not, it is indeed Lent. It is time once again to come face-to-face with sin…your sin.
If the contemplation of sin is the theme of Lent, there can be no better place to begin than Genesis 3. Starting at the very beginning with sin number one is quite fitting, and there is much to be learned from this ancient tragedy in the Garden of Eden. In the sin of Adam, we see the root cause of our own personal fallen and broken state. His sin is our sin. We call it original sin. You were born with it. Because of the hereditary nature of sin, you bear Adam’s proclivity for sin, and worse and more disturbing, you bear the guilt for his sin. That’s the harsh reality of original sin. But, the first sin is also significant because it sets the pattern for all sin to follow. God had made it clear: “Do not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” It makes no difference what kind of tree it might have been. What matters is what it embodied. The tree was the concrete limit on Adam. It marked the difference between Creator and creature. God alone needed to know good and evil. The creature only needed to know God’s will. The tree, then, was Adam’s limit. It was good. It reminded Adam of who and what he was as the creature of God. By leaving that tree alone, Adam honored and worshipped God. Luther even called the tree of the knowledge of good and evil Adam’s place of worship, his church, because by not eating the fruit from that tree, Adam was living obediently and so worshipping God, his Creator.
But, he couldn’t do it; Adam couldn’t leave it alone. He had to taste it. Of course, you know the whole story. The serpent played his role, and Eve played hers. Together they had a discussion about exactly what God had and had not said, and about why he might have said what he said. As intended, the conversation created a fierce storm of confusion for Eve, and in no time, the beguiled woman had been duped into thinking that maybe God didn’t know what he was talking about, and maybe she could take a giant step upward by eating the fruit that promised to give her the wisdom of God. But, none of the circumstances actually matter. Regardless how sneaky the snake might have been, or what motivations were at work in Eve’s mind, or what role Adam did or did not play in relation to Eve’s choice, the plain fact is that Adam ate the fruit. Adam rejected God’s will. Adam scoffed at God’s command. Adam rebelled against his Creator. That is the essence of the first sin. It is the essence of every sin. Sin is rebellion against God. It is refusal to do what God designed and directed you to do. It is willful repudiation of God’s plan. It is defiant rejection of God himself.
Given the circumstances that surrounded that first sin and given the enormous consequences of that first sin, it’s inevitable that we wonder why. Adam and Eve were living in paradise—everything was good and right and working exactly as God had designed it to work. What possible reason could either Adam or Eve have for disobeying their God who had given them everything? When surrounded by life in all its fullness, why choose death? It makes no sense, and we are driven to try to understand why exactly it happened. This is, of course, the typical way that we respond to sin—the more horrific and the more devastating, the more we need to know the reason behind it. We try to analyze and understand the reason for the sin in the hope that such knowledge might lessen the horror of the sin. But, it does not work. The truth is that there never is a good reason for sin. It does no good to analyze, dissect, or seek to understand it. To explain sin is to tame sin; and to tame sin is dangerous.
In stark contrast to us, the Bible shows no interest in explaining or analyzing sin. Whether it is the sin of David or Peter or Moses or Abraham or Judas, or anyone anywhere in the Bible, no effort is made to offer a reason for the sin. It’s simply reported as fact. And so often the sin is absurd, making no more sense than the sin of Adam and Eve. As much as we might like to know what was going on in the minds of our first parents on that terrible day when they chose to defy God, God does not seem to be the least bit interested. When he confronted Adam and then Eve he only asked them what they had done. He never asks why. And, I hate that. When it comes to sin, I want to know why. I want to explain why. Why matters to me. But, it doesn’t matter to God. God never asks you why you sinned. Your family of origin, your environment, your personality, your hormones, your situation, your motivations, your intentions, are all irrelevant. They make no difference. God is not interested. Sin is sin.
Caught in their sin, Adam and Eve stand before their Creator spattered and defaced with the shame of sin. There are no mitigating circumstances. There is no reasonable explanation. There is nothing sensible about it. There is only their naked, traitorous, repugnant sin. Just their sin; that’s all they’ve got. And it’s the same for you, isn’t it? And so, you also stand there next to your ancient grandparents. You are there, sandwiched between Adam and Eve, equally spattered with sin’s filth. Like them, you are repulsive in every way. There are no reasonable explanations, no manageable cause and effect scenarios to make sense of your actions. No whys, only the ugly what of your sin. Adam and you, and Eve and you, and you, and me, and you, and you, we’re all there, standing before our Creator wicked and wretched and guilty, reeking of sin.
And, what does the Creator do? There is but one reasonable course of action. There is only one thing that would make sense: these sinners must be condemned. These sinners must be consigned to Hell where they can pay the penalty for their crime of rebellion. The slate cleared, the Creator could then make a fresh start with new creatures who are not polluted by the senseless choice of sin. That’s the reasonable response, the one that makes sense. That’s what God should do. But, of course, that’s not what he does. God rejects the reasonable response and does the most bizarre thing imaginable. He joins the line-up of sinners, steps to the front of the line, and makes certain that he will be the first and only one to receive the just punishment that is demanded. In Jesus the eternal son, God himself joins his creation and then endures the damnation the sinners deserve. Jesus, God in human flesh, suffers the Hell. Jesus suffers your Hell. God the Father damns God the Son for the sake of Adam and Eve…and you and me. God’s action is utterly irrational and inexplicable. The only thing more senseless and absurd than sin is grace.
Adam should get condemnation, but he gets grace. Eve should be damned, but she gets grace. You should be sent to Hell, but you get grace. What makes no sense, God does. What no one could anticipate, God chooses. What no one could predict, God brings to pass. The sinners are saved, not by reasonable explanations for their sin, not by the understandable circumstances that led to their sin, not by careful defenses of the good intentions behind their sin. No, they are saved only by God’s incredible, irrational grace.
In the Garden, God delivers grace, and he brings Satan’s own words back against him. Satan twists God’s word, but God has the last word. Satan’s own words to Eve boomerang around and destroy Satan’s work. The deceiver’s lie is turned to truth. “You will not surely die.” The lie dripped off the tongue of the snake saccharin-sweet. Eve obligingly swallowed the sweet lie, and suddenly all was lost. But, God was not done and would not be outdone by any creature. Satan never saw it coming—neither did Adam or Eve. Satan counted on God’s justice and wrath against sin—he did not count on God’s grace. The deceiver could not have guessed that his lie would be turned into a prophecy of grace. But, that’s the way that God works. God is not easily boxed. So, the snake was right. Eve did not surely die. Jesus did. Adam did not surely die. Jesus did. You will not surely die. Jesus already did. Against his own perverse will, the snake was made to speak God’s truth. In Genesis 3, we have the gospel according to the snake: “You will not surely die.” No, indeed, you won’t. God already did. Because of Christ, you will surely live.
So, Lent is about sin. Sin looms large. It is illogical. It defies explanation. It is powerful. But, as irrational, absurd, comprehensive, and powerful as sin may be, more irrational, more absurd, more comprehensive, and more powerful is God’s grace. It’s true, Lent is all about sin; but Lent is even more about God’s grace—God’s grace for you. Don’t ruin it with reason, simply receive it with rejoicing. Amen.