Genesis 3:1-13

Feb. 22, 2026

Rev. David Collins

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One of the strangest things about being a person is how bad we are at taking good advice.

We nod. We say “that makes sense.”


And then we do exactly what we were already going to do.

It drives us crazy when we’re the ones giving the good advice that no one listens to. But when we’re the ones ignoring it? What advice? You said that? I don’t remember it like that.

Today we’re looking at the story of Adam, Eve, the Serpent, and God in the Garden of Eden. There are some interesting things happening in the text that connect it to the days of creation story, that we will deal with in another format, but today, I want us to hear the story as it is first, and try to put a pin in everything we think we know about it.

Because the simplistic, kind of magical version of Christianity that many of us grew up with, which is still the most common way to know these stories, would have you believe that this story is the reason that evil and sickness and death and everything bad that exists in the world exists at all. It’s used as a way to protect God’s good name from slander and libel.

So when the big questions come…

Why do children suffer?


Why does violence keep happening?


Why does injustice feel baked into the world?

You already have an answer.

Adam and Eve.

The world is broken because they broke it. Sin entered the system. Everything else is fallout.

People really love to act like God’s press secretary, don’t they?

They wanted to make sure no one could say God created evil. Or built death into the system from the start. So the story becomes this: God made a perfect world. No death. No decay. One act of disobedience introduces mortality. Not God’s fault. Everything after that is consequence.

I understand the instinct. But I don’t feel the same urgency to defend God.

God can defend himself.

What I’m more interested in is whether Genesis is actually telling that kind of story at all.

Because even if you believe this is a literal scientific origin story, when you look closely, some things don’t quite line up.

• Genesis doesn’t say creation was perfect. It says it was good.

• Before anyone sins, something is already “not good.” Loneliness.

• And the Tree of Life is already in the garden. Which means immortality isn’t automatic. In fact, after they eat the fruit, God prevents them from becoming immortal.

It’s actually kind of a wild story.

People want this story to answer the question “Why is the world like this?” But the question it is really answering is What are people like? How does God respond?

It’s not the cause. It’s a mirror. So let’s get into it.

Genesis 3:1 Now the serpent was more crafty than any other wild animal that the Lord God had made.

Okay. First question. Who is this snake?

Is this the devil?

Because that’s what most of us have been taught.

But notice what the text actually says.

It doesn’t say Satan, or old Red Legs, or demon. It says serpent.

One of the wild animals that the Lord God had made.

Genesis has just finished telling us that God made the animals. Now we’re told this one is especially crafty. Not omnipotent. Just shrewd and skilled in the art of conversation.

You see, temptation is almost never about dragging someone into something they hate.

It’s about nudging them toward something that feels reasonable. Taking a step that feels small… but can’t be undone.

Craftiness doesn’t overpower. It persuades.

Oh, and the snake talks. And nobody seems shocked.

Which should tell you something about what kind of story this is.

Now later on, the tradition will identify this serpent with Satan. The cosmic enemy. And maybe that’s not entirely wrong.

But here’s a question: Why do we need it to be the devil?

Why are we so eager to move the problem outside of the humans in the garden?

Maybe because if the danger comes from a supernatural villain… then we’re mostly victims.

If evil enters from out there… then this is something done to us, not by us.

Maybe it’s a snake because it’s just that kind of story, Stories use images and symbols. Two people who can’t decide what to have for lunch doesn’t make for great art. But this does.

He said to the woman, “Did God say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden’?”

Of course God didn’t say that, but there’s a name for this move. It’s related to the rule about how the fastest way to get the right answer on the internet is to post the wrong one.

You start by getting someone to correct you.“No, that’s not what He said.”

Now they’re engaged and feel smart. They’re in the conversation now and you’re building trust.

And the craft snake uses that trust to plant a small seed of suspicion. Embedded in this question “What did God say?” is the accusation “Why would God hold that back?”

Trust doesn’t collapse all at once. It erodes.

2 The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden,

She remembers the yes. That’s good.

3 but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the middle of the garden, nor shall you touch it, or you shall die.’ ”

Now if you go back and read chapter 2, God never said anything about touching it. He said “Don’t eat it”. Now maybe she’s just paraphrasing.

But it’s worth noticing.

The command gets slightly reshaped. “Don’t eat” becomes “Don’t even touch.”

It’s not defiance. It’s just… an adjustment. The rule gets made a little more concrete.

“Well it was my understanding that…”

“Why did you think that?”

“It was my understanding.”

We say it like that settles it. No one thinks they’re changing the rule. They’re just repeating it the way it makes sense to them. But sometimes what makes sense to us isn’t exactly what was said.

And that’s how cracks start. Not with rebellion, but with a slight rewrite.

And the serpent uses that against her.

4 But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not die,

And to be fair to the serpent, they don’t. Not right away.

That line works because most of us only believe in consequences we can feel right away.

Refuse the vaccine. You didn’t die. So the experts were lying.

Mock climate change. It snowed this winter. So the scientists were frauds.

Undermine institutions. Nothing collapsed overnight. So the warnings were partisan panic.

People demand instant catastrophe before they’ll admit they were wrong. And sometimes not even then.

And that’s exactly how deception survives.

“You will not die.” Today. Probably. At least I won’t.

And that’s good enough for most. Don’t let it be good enough for you.

Questioning the consequence is just the setup though.

The real push comes when the serpent stops arguing about what will happen… and starts suggesting why God said it in the first place.

5 for God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”

In other words, God’s been holding out on you. God doesn’t want you to have something. God isn’t guarding you. He’s limiting you.

You can’t really trust someone if you don’t believe they love you, can you? The story doesn’t tell us why the woman doubts God, it just shows us what happens once she started.

6 So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food and that it was a delight to the eyes and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise,

Notice what just happened. Up until now, this story has been about words. God said. The serpent said. The woman said.

Now it’s about what she sees. She looks at the tree. And what she sees isn’t evil. It looks good.

Most of us don’t ignore good advice because we’re trying to be villains. We ignore it because what we want looks reasonable.

The crack always starts small.

People almost never listen to good advice. They almost always do whatever it is they were already leaning toward doing. So the most effective temptation isn’t someone convincing you to become a monster. It’s someone saying,


“Yeah… that thing you were already thinking about? That makes sense.”

And now you don’t feel rebellious. You feel justified.

Living inside God’s will almost always requires doing the opposite of your first instinct.

That’s the hard part. Because your instincts usually feel right. They look good. They make sense. And that’s exactly why we’re so easy to deceive.

Maybe that’s why this story comes first. It’s like a disclaimer at the beginning that says, “You’re about to hear some great advice… and you’re probably going to do the opposite.” And I know you can think very quickly of countless examples of other people being like this, but it’s not about them. It’s about you. It’s about me.

This story is a mirror about what happens when we get what we think we want. Look at what happens next and see if you see yourself in it.

she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate. 7 Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked, and they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves.

So not enlightenment. Just awareness that they are naked. And suddenly that feels like a problem. So they cover up. Which is a little odd because it’s just the two of them. So this might be a little ancient near Eastern prudery creeping in. But that’s not all that’s going on here.

The very first consequence is that they don’t get what they think they’re going to get. They think they’re about to try a new flavor of fruit, and unlock some new abilities too, but instead they are cowering in shame and hoping that the leaves they just grabbed aren’t poison ivy.

And isn’t that just the way it goes, sometimes? You think you’re ascending but nope, you’re going down. You think you might be a god, but come to find out you’re still just an ape.

And worse than that… now you know it. Now you’re aware of it.

At least the only other person they knew was in the same boat.

But oh no. Look who’s coming now. It’s God and we’re just sure he’s going to even more disappointed in us than we are in ourselves.

8 They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden at the time of the evening breeze, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden.

Of course they hide.

That’s what happens when you ignore good advice and then get exactly what you asked for.

And now you don’t want to be seen.Not because you’ve become a monster. But because now it’s obvious.


You told yourself and everyone else that it made sense. You know you leaned into what you already wanted. And once you know that…Exposure feels dangerous.

This is the mirror part.

We tell ourselves,
“It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“Everyone does it.”
“I had my reasons.”

But when the moment comes where we might actually have to stand in the light?

We hide.

Sometimes we hide quietly. We avoid the conversation. Change the subject. Stay busy.

Sometimes we hide by doubling down. If I defend it hard enough, maybe I won’t have to face it. Sometimes we hide by gathering a crowd. We keep showing up. Keep talking. Keep posting. But we never let anyone close enough to see the insecurity underneath it all.

But someone does see.

9 But the Lord God called to the man and said to him, “Where are you?”

Notice what God does not say.

He doesn’t say, “I told you so.”
Or “Look what you did you little jerk!”

He asks a question.

“Where are you?”

And of course God knows where they are.

They’re behind a tree, trying to hide from the One who made trees.

The question isn’t for God’s information.
It’s for theirs.

God makes it clear that the hiding isn’t working. Not by dragging them out. Not by exposing them. But by calling to them. He lets them know, gently but unmistakably, “I see you.”

He doesn’t pretend they’re not hiding.
He doesn’t pretend nothing happened.
But he also doesn’t escalate.

We could learn something here. Too many of us are just itching to yell I told you so. But that’s not what God does here, after possibly the most consequential mistake in history. He doesn’t pretend it never happened. He just asks Where are you?

And yes… we know where it goes from here.

The man blames the woman.

The woman blames the serpent.

Life gets harder.

They leave the garden.

There are consequences. But that’s not the end. Two small details tell you that.

20 The man named his wife Eve because she was the mother of all living.

Eve literally means life.

That’s a pretty good name looking toward the future.

Life is still coming.

Second:

21 And the Lord God made garments of skins for the man and for his wife and clothed them.

They tried to cover themselves with leaves. It wasn’t enough.

God doesn’t undo what happened.

He doesn’t pretend the crack isn’t there.

But he does cover it.

He equips them for life outside the garden.

Now bring that forward.

We are not just individuals hiding behind trees.

We are a country doing it.

We do what we want. And justify it.

Then we gather our side. And shout from behind our leaves.

Trust will not be rebuilt by winning arguments.

It won’t be rebuilt by humiliation or by pretending nothing happened.

It gets rebuilt the same way it starts here.Someone steps out and answers the question, “Where are you?” honestly.

That only works if mercy is real.

You don’t step into the light if you think the light will destroy you.

And that’s why we talk about Jesus. The cross is God stepping into the fallout of our hiding. He doesn’t stand at a distance yelling advice. He absorbs it.

And the resurrection is God’s declaration that hiding and violence do not get the last word.

Not in Eden.

Not in our country.

Not in you.

Original Sin is not an excuse to shrug.

It’s an honest acknowledgment that the crack that runs through everything runs through all of us.

But so does the call.

“Where are you?”

The good news is not that we stopped hiding.

It’s that even while we were hiding… God kept walking toward us.

So come out from behind the tree.