“And the Lord God (walking in the garden) called unto Adam . . . ‘Where art thou?'” (Gen. 3:9). The Almighty might just as well have asked, “In what condition are you?” Like a parent to a wayward child, “How did you ever get yourself into such a fix?”
Adam knows what the question means, and he answers accordingly: “I was afraid . . . naked . . . I hid myself” (v. 10). His heart now knew defilement. He would never know the purity of conscience that had once been their father Adam’s. By divine decree this overwhelming sense of fear, uncleanness, and inadequacy was sealed into the genetic code, indelibly imprinted upon human nature.
Adam stood before his Maker self-condemned by his own thoughts, words, and actions—even as we all do! None of us, in our daily lives, in our failures and excuses, our complaints and recriminations . . . none of us are very far removed from the shame of Eden. How frail, at best, is dying man; how vain . . .
“By one man’s disobedience many were made sinners” (Rom. 5:19).
“In Adam all die” (I Cor. 15:22).
The Shadow of Eden Fell Upon Jesus
The shadow of Eden reached across the long ages and fell upon Jesus. Every day he carried his “cross” just a bit further through “the valley of the shadow of death.” And his last hours, especially, were a microcosm of his entire life. Though he was personally without sin, it was necessary that the consciousness of sin’s power, the sense of weakness and inadequacy in the flesh of Adam, and fear — cold, naked fear — should seize upon him who would “bear away” the sins of his brethren.
And so the effects of the Adamic curse were laid upon the one truly sinless son of Adam, so that he might provide a way of escape from their effects, and finally fulfill the intent of those two passages just quoted:
“. . . So by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous” (Rom. 5:19) “Even so in Christ shall all be made alive” (1 Cor. 15:22).
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I shall now trace the direct allusions—”mirror images” almost !—between Genesis 3 and the gospel accounts, between Eden and the crucifixion. There are more than the casual reader might ever imagine:
The First Allusion
(1) First of all, the easiest: “the first Adam” and “the last Adam” (1 Cor. 15:45). These were the only two men to have life direct from God. They are the
constitutional (or federal) heads” of two races (Elpis Israel, P. 132) — those in Adam and those in Christ, those who die and those who live (1 Cor. 15:22). Adam, the natural firstborn, lost his birthright through disobedience. Jesus, the spiritual firstborn, in his perfect submission to the Father’s will, proved himself worthy of the inheritance of the firstborn, that inheritance which Adam forfeited (Gen. 1:28), “that double portion” which is life now and life hereafter!
Allusion Number Two
(2) As Adam’s probation was undergone in a garden (Gen. 2:8), so Jesus retraced those steps* Down from the darkened city he came, across the ravine of Kedron, and then into the Garden of Gethsemane. There, in that place which signifies in Aramic an “oil press,” in the deep shadows of the gnarled old olive trees, he faced and overcame his greatest trial. There, like the fruit of the trees above him, he was exceedingly pressed by God — that he might bring forth the healing “oil” of life and joy. There also he spurned the crafty counsel of the “serpent” in his own bosom.
The Third Allusion
(3) There he sweated “as it were great drops of blood” (Luke 22:44). His sacrifice had already begun! It has been suggested that the “bloody sweat” — if actual — was the result of an over stressed heart and high blood pressure, which caused the small capillaries under the skin to burst and mingle with sweat as it was discharged through the pores.
The two gardens, Eden and Gethsemane, are related to each other like the positive and negative of the same photograph (see previous footnote). Sin appeared in Eden, and the sweat of suffering and the dust of death were the consequences.
“In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat bread . . . For dust thou art . . .” (Gen. 3:19).
The sweat of sacrifice appeared in Gethsemane, mingling with the dust at his feet as he knelt to pray. And the forgiveness of sins and resurrection from that same dust were the ultimate consequences. Through his sweat, his suffering, Christ provided the bread from heaven for his brethren to eat.
Sweat: the word appears only three times in Scripture: once (Gen. 3:19) when the curse is pronounced, one (Luke 22:44) when Christ comes under that curse in order to remove it, and once (Ezek. 4:18) in a picture of the saints girded with the linen of Christ’s righteousness. Now redeemed from sin and its curse;
“They shall not gird themselves with anything that causeth sweat.”
What a beautiful and complete picture!
Allusion Number Four
(4) “And the soldiers platted a crown of thorns, and put it on his head” (John 19:2). Another echo of the curse of Eden:
“Thorns and thistles shall (the ground) bring forth to thee” (Gen. 3:18).
In their drunken merriment the soldiers fashioned a cruel crown for this would-be king. Another aspect of the curse attached itself to Christ in his last hours of trial and suffering, and the sweat of his brow was again mingled with blood, this time from the wounds of the thorns. Gideon had “taught” the elders of Succoth with thorns and briers (Judges 8:16), and now God’s own Son “learned obedience” under the piercing of the thorns.
The Serpent Is the Fifth
(5) We are all certainly familiar with John’s appropriation of the serpent as symbol of the sin-prone nature of Jesus, lifted up on the cross (Num. 21:9; John 3:14; 12:32). For its part in the affairs of Eden, the serpent fell under the law’s curse. It is fitting that Jesus, possessed of the nature which was in some measure the serpent’s handiwork, should appear as the serpent in these last trials.
Jesus was led away to Golgotha, bearing on his beaten and bloody shoulders the stake on which he as “serpent” would be lifted up. He bore also, in his grief and sorrow, the burden of our sins. He was exhausted, more exhausted than words could tell, and he stumbled and fell. The rough, heavy wooden beam was too much for him. He lay there in the dust. And again, we see the words of Genesis emblazoned across the scene:
“Thou are cursed above all . . . upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat . . .” (Gen. 3:14).
Yes, the Lord tasted of dust on that dark and solemn day, as his enemies mockingly trod him under foot, exulting at last in the satisfaction of that enmity they had long felt for him. He was the I “serpent,” the threat to their “righteousness,” who must be crushed underfoot (Gen. 3:15) — or so they thought! Unwittingly, they performed the purpose of God and the “serpent” was bruised in the head. But it was only the nature of Christ, his physical body as the receptacle of sin’s consequences, that was destroyed. This was the “serpent” rendered powerless and lifted up for all to see. And through the destruction of that “serpent” the true righteous life of Jesus was enabled to shine forth from the tomb in glorious immortality. The “serpent,” in being trodden underfoot, had lost forever his “sting” for Christ and, ultimately, for us who are in Christ. Thanks be to God! (1 Cor. 15:55-57).
The Sixth Is the Lamb of God
(6) And they led him forth to a place outside the city, or as Paul says, “without the gate,” “without the camp” (Heb. 13:12, 13). Why? Because this sacrifice, the perfect sacrifice, of the lamb of God, to take away the sins of the world, was not just the continuation and extension of the Mosaic offering. It was an altogether new thing, foreshadowed of course in the old institutions, but drawing none of its efficacy from them. Rather, if anything, it was the reverse — the former sacrifices drew their legitimacy from the fact that they prefigured, in varying degrees of exactitude, the coming sacrifice.
Thus, in being a new thing, a new beginning, the sacrificial lamb must suffer outside the city, removed from the temple altar and the Aaronic priests. This crucifixion “outside the camp” is shown also in Gen. 3:24:
“He drove out the man.”
Because of his sin, Adam was driven away from the site of his former fellowship with God, driven away from the place where God dwelt, so that he might suffer “outside the camp.” And so Christ, though he deserved it not, but because he was the representative of Adam’s condemned descendants, was also driven forth from God’s presence, to perish outside the camp of Jerusalem, away from the holy city.
The Seventh Allusion
(7) “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?” (Psa. 22:1). Adam and Eve hid themselves from God (Gen. 3:8). But God hid Himself from Jesus. Still, the effect was the same. Through no fault of his own Jesus was compelled to undergo perhaps his greatest trial — separation from the Father. It was a terrible trial to one so sensitive, so dependent upon prayer, enjoying such intimacy with the Father. And it is a measure of our feeble moral stature alongside his, that in the dullness of our spiritual sensibilities we scarcely if at all feel the horror of that separation from God. Like moles and bats, we are so used to the darkness that we hardly miss the light. In our guilt — or perhaps our indifference — we, like Adam, hide from the light of God’s presence. God sent His Son there, into the “darkness,” not that he would be forsaken by God, but that he might find us there, and lead us back to the light.
Nakedness is Number Eight
(8) “And they knew that they were naked” (Gen. 3:7), and they were ashamed. This sensitive, righteous, loving man — epitome of all that was pure and good — knew that same nakedness and shame:
“I may tell all my bones . . . they part my garments among them” (Psa. 22:17, 18).
As he hung upon the cross, all the signs of corruption became a part of him — the blood, the sweat, the dust rising in choking clouds, the shame of nakedness, the surrender of all human dignity, and the odor of impending death. He was reliving the curse of Eden, but all at once. In a fiercely compact span of time, the curse of Eden fell with a storm of vengeance upon him, and he accepted its full force without a word of complaint.
The Ninth Allusion
(9) His lifeless frame was taken down from the cross and borne. . . to a garden (John 19:41). The first Adam had slept in a garden while the Almighty, not yet finished with His creation, fashioned from his side a companion for him. The last Adam was now laid to rest in another garden (was it the same garden ?) ; from the wounds of his crucifixion, and the sword thrust in his side God was preparing to fashion another “body” — the body of his “bride,” his companion for eternity, the crowning achievement of the Father’s new creation in Christ!
Allusion Number 10
(10) Tempted in all points like his brethren, Jesus knew by personal experience “the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” The cross on which he died was such a tree. At the foot of his cross in those last hours had come the tempter once again, the “serpent”:
“If he be the King of Israel, let him now come down, and we will believe” (Matt. 27:42).
And also, the “tree” was the scene of “good and evil” manifested in others. On one hand was the thief who chose good and confessed his faith: “Remember me, Lord.” On the other hand, the one who chose evil, who railed and complained and turned away from a final offer of mercy.
Finally he expired. He hung upon a tree of death, a lifeless body suspended on lifeless wood. And yet the body lived again, and the “tree of death” — the tree which had known both “good and evil” became a “tree of life” — the “dry tree” flourished again (Ezek. 17:24) ! Out of death came new life, and that eternal life. Out of cursing (“Cursed is he that hangs on a tree” — Gal. 3:13; Deut. 21:23) came blessing, for
“Blessed is the man .. . (who) shall be like a tree by the rivers of water . . . his leaf shall not whither . . .” (Psa. 1:1,3).
The Sorrow in Number Eleven
(11) “I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception” (Gen. 3:16), God had told Eve, the mother of all living. Jesus was the seed of the woman (Gen. 3:15), and the sorrow was never far from his mother:
“A sword shall pierce they own soul also” (Luke 2:35). “And there followed him a great company . . . of women, which also bewailed and lamented him. But Jesus turning unto them said, ‘Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me but for yourselves’ ” (Luke 23: 27,28).
They came and stood under the cross. His mother was there, feeling the awesome pain and emptiness that must surely be the exclusive province of mothers, women who have held and nurtured another human life in their own bodies, finally to see that life come to an end.
Many mothers mourned that day, reliving the curse of Eden. It was a sadness that knew no rest for, if such could be the fate of a truly righteous son, what of their own children? And is not every son, every daughter, born to die? “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity,” says the preacher. And we can easily imagine the whole creation groaning in travail to be delivered from this great paradox — that in the midst of life, even, new, innocent life, death is ever present.
And why was the world in travail, why did darkness fall upon Judea and an earthquake wrench the bowels of that ancient land? It was a time of sorrow and anguish, but also a time of joy and hope. It was the time of the “birth” of God’s only Son, and the mothers who wept would shortly cry tears of joy:
“Verily, verily, I say unto you, that ye shall weep and lament, but the world shall rejoice, and ye shall be sorrowful, but your sorrow shall be turned to joy. A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, because her hour is come: but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world. And ye now therefore have sorrow: but I will see you again and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you” (John 16: 20-22).
The Twelfth has to do with Dominion
(12) Adam was promised dominion over all things (Gen. 1:28), but he lost his dominion through sin. By his perfect obedience Christ regained that dominion which is the special possession of the man truly created in the image of God (Gen. 1:26; Heb. 1:3; Col. 1:15). His resurrection from the dead on that glorious morning sealed forever his claim to that dominion, and linked the first Eden with the final Eden, the old creation with the new, paradise lost with paradise regained. God drove out the man and the woman from the garden (Gen. 3:24), but His Son leads their suffering children back into the garden:
“You shall be with me in paradise—a garden !” (Luke 23:43).
The old world was plunged into chaos and death, but the new creation is now building, through God’s own Son, the last Adam, who is the firstborn of every creature because he is the firstborn from the dead:
“In him the tribes of Adam boast More blessings than their father lost.”
“And he is the head of the body, the ecclesia, who is the beginning, that in all things he might have the preeminence . . . For it pleased the Father that in him should all fullness dwell” Col. 1:18,19).
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One