“Where are you?”
--Genesis 3: 9
In the readings for Mass today we heard that profoundly important story of Adam and Eve and the Fall (Genesis 3: 9-15). The reading begins just after the eating of the forbidden fruit. God comes into the garden and calls out to Adam, who is hiding from Him. There is so much that can be said about this simple and relatively brief story, so much truth to be discovered, so much insight into the psychology of sin, of shame, of scapegoating. Adam hides because he is naked, because he is vulnerable to the view of another—because he is self-conscious and doesn’t want anyone to notice some aspect of his nature, his being (his sin). When questioned, he tries to obfuscate: tries to deflect attention on himself by shifting it to God’s sudden appearance. “I heard you walking in the garden and hid because I was naked.” As if he has not always been naked, as if that is not the way he has always appeared before God. Then when questioned further, he shifts the blame to Eve. But it’s not only her fault; God is still to blame. “The woman YOU put here with me...” (3:12) is the real problem! And then Eve, who was just thrown under the bus, turns and blames the serpent. It’s not my fault, it was that damned serpent! “The snake tempted me...” (3:14). Ask yourself, isn’t that still the way sin works? We get tempted, we do something we’re ashamed of, and as soon as someone finds us out we start looking for someone, or something else to blame. It’s not my fault. It’s the media, it’s the economy, it’s society, my parents, my husband, my wife... My fault (or sin) is never truly mine, but can always be explained away as the result of someone else’s choices or behavior.
Anytime we are tempted to think of how backwards and unenlightened people used to be, how primitive they were; how they wouldn’t understand the complexities of life today, wouldn’t grasp the psychological or emotional or social ramifications of a particular action or choice---just pause and reread the first few chapters of Genesis. It’s all there. Modern psychology and morality have nothing to teach the ancient writers of the Hebrew Bible.
But there is one small aspect of this story that I want to ponder for a moment today: the way that God talks with Adam and Eve. It’s a series of questions. The first thing God does is look for Adam. Talk about a theologically profound image. Adam and Eve have disobeyed God’s command and fallen into sin, and instead of abandoning them, or smiting them, God goes looking for them. Ponder that for a week or two. But what caught my eye this morning was the questioning. “Where are you?” God calls out, but why? God is omniscient and knows exactly where every hair on Adam’s head is at every moment, why does He need to ask? He doesn’t... And that, to my ear, is a clue to the reader. God doesn’t need to ask Adam where he is. God doesn’t need to ask who gave the fruit to Adam? God doesn’t even need to ask why Eve ate from the forbidden tree. God knows. So, why does God ask? Because it is in the very nature of God to invite us into relationship. To ask us questions, and to listen to our answers. God asks not for His benefit, but for ours. So that we can reveal ourselves to Him. So that we might freely open ourselves entirely to Him, to His love, and to His mercy.
Listening to this story today, I suddenly found myself thinking of another image of God asking questions and listening. It is from the story of Jesus as a child getting lost in Jerusalem. When Mary and Joseph finally find Him, He is sitting among the elders in the temple, “Listening to them and asking questions...” (Luke 2:46).
This is how God reaches out to people. He asks questions, and He listens.
How much better would the world be today if we all acted the same? If, instead of trying to blame someone, or shame someone, what if we acted a little more like Jesus? Instead of casting blame or shame, what if we—instead—each began asking more questions and listening to the answers?
We may not agree with what we hear, but we may find that a door has been opened—both in us and in the person we listen to. And we may find that opening that door changes more than opinions, it changes the world. Because that’s how God works.
What do you think?
