The Tenderness of God

My pastor is preaching through the first eleven chapters of Genesis. Though I have traveled a lot this Spring, I was there when he preached on the end of chapter 3. Genesis 3 is the horrible climax of the creation story. Adam and Eve were perfect in every way and were living in a perfect world—no sin, no corruption, no failure. Everything about their life was fulfilling and satisfying and complete. They lacked for nothing. The last verse of chapter 2 sums it up well. They were naked but not ashamed—though I think some jeans and a t-shirt might have kept their walks through the garden from being itchy!

And then the Fall came along. Sin entered their world, and it did so by their own invitation. The Evil One, in the form of a serpent, tempted them to believe that God was holding out on them, that he was keeping something good from them. “Why doesn’t God want you to eat of the tree in the middle of the garden? It looks good, doesn’t it? I’m sure that it will taste good. Why doesn’t God want you to have something so good?” And Adam and Eve believed him. They didn’t trust that God was good, that he was for them, and so they took matters into their own hands. God had given them everything they could ever want, but the one thing he kept from them, they wanted, and they wanted it bad enough to give up everything to get it.

That is so like us, isn’t it? The one thing we can’t have, we want, and we want it so bad that we will turn our back on God to get it. And we do this because we don’t trust him. What is interesting is this. In a converse sort of way, Jesus tells us that the kingdom of God is actually like this. In Matthew 13:44, Jesus says that the Kingdom of God is so precious, so valuable, that we should joyfully sell all that we have to obtain it. And we should do so because we trust him, because we really believe that he really is worth everything we have. In that way, the kingdom of God undoes, or maybe fulfills or completes, this broken, sinful world.

But now to chapter 3 of Genesis. Upon the bite of that forbidden fruit, their souls were changed. They no longer trusted God inherently. Sin, fear, shame, and anger ruled their heart and their world. Suddenly they were naked and they were ashamed. God brought curses upon them to drive them away from their self-dependence and into his grace. And then at the end of the chapter he does two things, one tender and the other merciful, that are often over-looked but show the depth of his kindness.

At the end the chapter, after he has spoken curses and judgment on them, God makes clothes for Adam and Eve. Verse 21 says that God made for them garments of skin. Adam, in his shame, sewed fig leaves together to cover his nakedness. God, however, provides more suitable clothing. He took the life of an animal, removed its skin, cleaned the hide, and made garments of leather and fur as clothes for Adam and Eve. Blood was shed because sin is serious; it has life-and-death consequences. Something had to die, and God was determined that it wasn’t going to be Adam and Eve. Something had to give its life as a substitute for them. Unfortunately, those clothes would wear out and another animal would have to die to make more clothes. It wouldn’t be until Jesus comes that the death to end all deaths would take place. His death would provide clothes of righteousness that will never wear out.

Notice the tenderness of this verse. God stepped in and made the clothes. He didn’t just get tired of them and kick them out of the garden. “Boy, you guys have really messed this thing up. Now just get out of here. I don’t want to see you right now.” First, he judged them, but then he gathered them to himself and made clothes for them. In fact, the last phrase of the verse says that he clothed them. Not only did he make the clothes, but he actually clothed Adam and Eve. Can’t you just sense God’s intimacy and care and love? I have this picture in my mind of God, knowing Adam and Eve’s exact dimensions (the Bible says that he knows the number of hairs on our head, so he certainly knows our clothing measurements), carefully sewing animal skins together to make their clothes, then coming to them and literally putting these new clothes on them. “Adam and Eve, come here. It’s been a hard day. You’ve been through a lot. You’ve made a real mess of yourselves. But that’s okay. I’m here to help, to restore, to redeem. Your lack of trust in me is going to affect you the rest of your life and it is going to affect all of creation until the Redeemer makes all things right. But first, you need some better clothes. Those fig leaves won’t last the rest of the day. Here, look what I made for you. Adam, slide your arms through these holes. How does that feel? Eve, slip this over your head and see how that fits. Oh, the two of you look so nice. I do so love you.” What tenderness!

The passage goes on to say that God drove them out of the garden, but he did so so that they would not eat of the Tree of Life and live forever. We know nothing about this Tree of Life, except that to eat of its fruit would keep you from dying. God didn’t want Adam and Eve to live forever in a state of sinfulness. What that tells me is this. Sin is really bad. It is hard and painful. A human lifetime of it would be enough. An eternity of it would be more than a loving God could bear for his children. Unfortunately, we don’t see sin as being nearly as bad as God does. We’re grown somewhat accustomed to it, to living outside of the Garden. Betrayal and shame are normal. Corruption and deceit are routine. Violence and hatred and injustice are expected in this life. We’ve become numb to the fallen-ness of this world. But God hasn’t. It is still an aberration to him. And he is bound and determined to eradicate it, even if it cost him the life of his own son to do so. What mercy!

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