Genesis 3:6 says, "And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof . . ." (KJV).
It would not, I think, be too great a feat of modesty for me to assume that I am not the first to point out that--given Adam's presumed lack of experience in the matter--there would be no reason for Eve to "see" that the tree was "good for food." As a purely logical proposition, the text is insupportable. How could Eve "see" that the tree was "good for food?"
One might as well ask whether succeeding generations had the opportunity to find out if the tree in question was "good for food"--its moral poison having already done its work. It does not seem to be contended in Scripture that the "Cherubims" and "flaming sword" persisted through the ages of humanity. Did the edges of Eden simply give way to overgrowth and intermingling of "in-garden" and "out-garden?" Did the other tree, the Tree of Life, though it would allow people to live forever, not have the intrinsic property of endless life without Adam's "dressing" and "keeping?" Were the barriers to Eden rendered simply superfluous?
And then again, the creationist can simply invoke the charm of the Flood, and contend that Eden was destroyed. None of such carryings-on, however, can change the fact that we are told, in cart-before-the-horse fashion, that Eve "saw" that the tree was "good for food." It is inescapable that Eden serves not as a physical setting (despite any and all exertions of the literalist--though of course there is no impediment to asserting that God can "literally" do anything he wants, rendering all analysis futile.) Rather, Eden (just as many other scriptural plots in space and time) is an "arena of conceptualization"--an externalized setting that displays the problems inherent in human experience.
An "arena of conceptualization" is physical only insofar as physically-conceivable metaphors are intrinsic to the arena's applicable moral lessons. Eve "saw" that the tree was "good for food"--it matters not if its fruit was nutritionally worthless and/or its taste was repellent (though the latter negative quality might have spared Adam his part.) The "seeing" is what mattered, just as the "seeing" (or, more creepily, actual leering) of a man at a maid that he would want to possess is the very act of adultery itself. Physicality, in the language of the Scriptures, is the fleshing-out of a harder reality, the reality of moral condition. The positive inverse of internalized "seeing" as a lecherous pursuit can be found in Jesus' contention that we can possess material goods beyond compare--if only we will count ourselves as undeserving possessors of the world at large, rejoicing in the benefits of its fruits to all and sundry--just as though they were enjoyed by ourselves personally.
Our existence, whether seen in terms of particularized scenarios or seen (as best we might) in totality, is characterized by such "arenas of conceptualization." As I described in the previous post, the concept of "sin" in our existence is supportable only as long as we remember that sin is pervasive, and is therefore described fatuously if we attempt to treat it as an isolatable thing. The only thing "non-sin" about our existence is the intellectual conjecture (and scriptural promise) of a "non-sin" alter-existence. Nowhere, then, in considerations of Jesus' teachings, is to be found a more crucial topic for arena-of-conceptualization analysis than "sin." "Sin" is understood truly only when it is understood to be pervasive, to be fundamental to every postulation about our existence, and to be determinative of the relationships among the elements of our existence.
Such is the way the gospels treat sin. "Sin" is not a thing in the world. "Sin" is the foundation of this world--the only world we know, the only world that we can analyze and with which we can interact. Just to take the word "sin" itself as it shows up in English translations (in this case, as in the NIV) is to take the first step toward viewing "sin" in its arenas of conceptualization--if we will consider the gospels' treatments of the matter as fundamental. When the gospels speak of sin, they speak of existence--and then they layer on such superficialities as physical reality, common human experience, established religious ideations, and the like. This should be apparent regardless of translation used.
As I said, then, when the gospels speak of sin:
Matthew 5 (immediately after the "whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her . . . " part that I referred to above, has, "And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell" (KJV). Of course, this passage has engendered no end of theological conjectures--because we tend to see it as describing an aspect of sin (or of our response to sin) when sin itself is the landscape upon which the conceptualization is placed.
This passage is, after all, part of a recorded discourse of Jesus that begins with the Sermon on the Mount. As the discourse proceeds, we are told to rejoice in persecution; to reckon that our strength ("salt") in testimony to God can be lost to us; that we must adhere perfectly to the Law of Moses; that anger in speech is the same as murder; that divorce is adultery; that the swearing of oaths is evil; that we must allow ourselves to be ill-used; that we must attain the perfection of the Father; that we are to forsake earthly cares; that a life of wonderful works can still end in damnation.
What is most important to remember here is the fact than an entirely different (though complementary) thread of teaching is drawn through this same discourse. Yes, we are told to rejoice in persecution, but of course that entails the presence of those who would persecute us--and this is just the beginning of the conundrums that are to face us. We cannot offer a sacrifice to God while yet another person has anything against us--and our reconciliation with those we have alienated is not guaranteed. Moreover, the press of time and circumstance is such that we must offer virtually anything to mend those rifts. As exemplified in cases of divorce ("whosoever shall put away his wife, saving for the cause of fornication, causeth her to commit adultery") we can be held accountable for others' misdeeds if those deeds have their seed-bed in our actions. (Matthew 9 prefaces the "hand offend thee, cut it off" part with a warning, not about sinning, but about causing sinning in others.)
The important point here is that attaining the degree of righteousness required of us by Jesus is not merely impossible. It is impossible as well for us to address the full scope of our moral responsibilities without the active cooperation of our fellows. We are not faced with sin in the world--we are faced with a sin-world. Of course, we are faced with a Savior who tells us to seek the mercy of God, but we stumble in this at the outset if we do not understand the scope of what we are asking--and, of course, if we do not understand that mercy asked for ourselves alone is incomprehensible in an existence of sin permeating all and therefore connecting all.
Such is the greatest arena of our conceptualizations. I will continue with the relevant gospel passages in the nest post.
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