Knowing When to Say Enough (Week 2)
Readings
Genesis 2:15–3:13
Song of Songs 1:1–3:5 (Suggestion: Have a married couple read this with “parts.”)
Romans 8:5–13
Silent Reflection
Remarks
What makes a human a human? We often ask this question as scientists, debating our relationship with the chain of evolution. We ask it as philosophers, wondering about the purpose and meaning of our lives. But today we ask it as a reflection on this ancient story of human origins in Genesis, trying to think like an eastern listener. And as we do, the question shifts from “What makes us human?” to “What does it mean to be made in the image of God?”
A good place to start is with what we have heard about God so far in the story. What have we learned? Last week, we saw he is a God who values and models (and later commands) rest. He himself creates in each of the six days, separating and filling, but only to a point. Then he lets creation take over: “Let them produce after their own kind.” And even then, only to a point. Creative activity stops on the seventh day to make time and space for holy rest.
The rabbis teach that one of the names for God, “El Shaddai,” is actually something quite interesting. Often translated “God Almighty,” the name is most literally translated “God of the Breasts,” a very common name for ancient pagan goddesses of fertility. Thinking there must be a better option, the sages and rabbis noted that the consonants could form a shorthand Hebrew phrase; Hebrew lacks vowels, so the arrangements of how someone breaks up the consonants (especially in proper nouns) can change the translation. In this teaching, the combination of consonants create a Hebrew phrase which says, “The God Who Knows When to Say Enough.” This is the God character we meet in these stories about origins, is it not? A God who knows when to stop creating (“sabbath” literally means cease). A God who knows how to stop a hand of vengeance. A God who knows when to stop destroying. A God who knows when to stop blessing.
If this ceasing is one of the qualities at the very heart of God’s character, it may have something to do with what it means to be made in his image. We’ll ask it again: “What does it mean to be made in the image of God?”
Some of our common answers actually follow an older Talmudic line of thought, starting with physical form, moving toward mental ability, and then on to relational capacity.
Is it our bodies that set us apart? In the age of neuroscience, some point to the human brain as the thing that distinguishes us above other creatures. But in the story, the serpent may well be walking upright, according to Jewish tradition. One midrash points out that it’s not until after the curse that he is sent upon his belly, implying legs before, and another even talks about the serpent shaking the tree with his hands when Eve (incorrectly) told him that God told her that she would die if she even touched the fruit. The point is, when it comes to anatomy, lines are blurred between man and beast in this story.
Is it our ability to reason logically and abstractly that makes us unique? Not in Genesis, apparently. The crafty beast is quite crafty indeed, engaging Eve in a cunning discussion with logic and reasoning. That he can speak at all is a sign of immense intellect and reason. It’s another instance in which humans aren’t as unique as we thought.
What about our ability to relate and have relationships with one another? It’s another no at this point. The serpent beast again appears to have these same capacities when he talks to Eve and appeals to her desire. Jewish midrash teaches that the serpent’s manipulation was actually an attempt to usurp Adam’s role and produce offspring with Eve.
We are told that the defining mark of mankind in all of the Creator’s creation is their being a bearer of the Divine reflection, but what is the essence of this unique reflection? None of these qualities seem to suffice as an answer when we look closely at the Text, but there is one other path to explore.
The rabbis teach that the clue we need is found in the nature of the temptation itself. The one new detail that emerges in Eve’s interaction with the serpent seems to be the preoccupation with desire. What is the serpent’s ultimate temptation? Is it not the idea that Eve is to pursue her desires, insinuating God would not have given her these desires if he did not mean for her to act on them? The serpent says, “Did God really say that?” One rabbi I learned from said that the Hebrew reader does not hear a serpent trying to make Eve doubt her recollection, but a statement of incredulity, putting the emphasis on say. “Did God really say that? Obviously, he can’t mean that. I mean, just look at it!”
Here we come full circle to reflections on a God who knows when to say “enough.” What sets him apart in his creative work is the very thing intended to mark the difference between humans and beasts. A beast, outside of being trained, will never work against their own instinctual desires. When an animal is hungry, it eats. When it is mating season, the animal mates. A beast is incapable of practicing self-restraint as an act of will.
But we can. And we are invited to, for that is what God wanted for Adam and Eve. She was given the chance to obey and demonstrate that her desire was not all-powerful, and so are we.
We are invited to know when to stop indulging, destroying, and serving our own self-interest. In last week’s passage, we were invited to know when to say enough to our labor and our work. In this week’s passage, we are invited to know when to say enough to our desire. We truly are meant to know when to say enough — when to stop striving for love and value and acceptance and significance.
One of the most important things we all have to do is to know when to say enough to the voices inside our heads telling us we aren’t enough — smart enough or committed enough or good enough or successful enough or beautiful enough. If we don’t learn to identify those voices as the lies they are, we are going to act out of those places of insecurity to destructive consequences, something we will see next week.
This story is not a tale about how sin entered the world. This story is a tale about why we sin in the first place. More important than whether the story happened is that the story happens every day. It is a warning for what happens when we don’t trust the story and find a place of rest that tells us the truth. We are deceived into an obsession with our own frailty and humanity — our nakedness — the very nakedness that was beautiful when the story began.
Silent Reflection
Response
Do we seem more or less evolved in interactions with our desires in today’s culture and setting?
What is a significant place in your life where your inability to say “enough” impacts your ability to be fully you — the you God created you to be?
God asked them, “Who told you that you were naked?” Another way of hearing this question is, “What other voices have you been listening to other than mine?” What other voices do you believe in?
Why do you suppose Eve acted on her animal appetites? In light of this conversation, what would you say is the reason — the why — behind our sin? Why do we sin and why does this matter?