Eden to Gethsemane

Every time I read Genesis 2, I get upset.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a beautiful passage — a closer, deeper look into the creation of mankind. We see that the Lord God, who has just brought the entire universe into being, does not simply retreat into the cosmos to observe His works from afar. Instead, He enters this vibrant world He has made, reaching into the dirt to perform His grand finale; he “[forms] a man from the dust of the ground and [breathes] into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man [becomes] a living being.”¹

What an incredible sentence. And from here, compounding on the miracle of his very existence, this man Adam receives gift after gift from his Creator. Not just breath in his lungs, but God’s breath: a tie of intimacy and joyful dependence. Not just a place to live, but a lush and bountiful garden, where every tree is “pleasing to the eye and good for food.”² Not just a few animals to keep him company, but a woman, made for him and from him, “bone of [his] bones and flesh of [his] flesh.”³

Now, you may be wondering what about this is the least bit upsetting. In this passage, beauty and perfection and unity abound — Adam is clearly living his best life. The problem is, I’ve read the Bible enough to know that it won’t last.

Just six verses into Genesis 3, Adam and his wife, Eve, will succumb to temptation, turn their backs on their heavenly Father, and pursue their own way, breaking the garden’s perfect harmony. Their rebellion will throw the world into chaos. They will fall, and we have been falling ever since.

That’s what always gets me. That’s what sends me to my knees, asking God in frustration how they could have given all that up. A garden of work without toil, and unlimited free, healthy, delicious food, and the God-ordained love of their lives? As a busy, broke, and single college student, I would give just about anything to live there. And, more importantly, as a Christian who is still very much human, I would give anything to experience that unbroken, natural-as-breathing intimacy with God. No more quiet-times where I fall asleep halfway through. No more lost battles with bad habits, and the shame that follows. No more long nights where His presence seems gone. In the midst of these struggles, I often find myself mourning Eden — that simple, beautiful place so devastatingly different from the world today — and longing for some way back.

If you’ve been there too, I have good news. There may not be a way back, but there is a way forward. In fact, it comes in the form of another garden: the mirror opposite of Eden, but oddly enough, so much better in the long run.

You see, flashing back to the Old Testament, God still refuses to hover indifferently in heaven, even as humanity’s blatant rebellion continues. He faces a dilemma, though. While he has every right to destroy these broken, corrupted people for the atrocities they’ve committed, against both Him and each other, He still cannot help but love them.⁴ He is the embodiment of perfect love, after all, and they are his treasured creation.

However, this does not change the fact that the world is engulfed in evil, which must be stopped, punished, ended forever. Since sin rejects God, and God is the only source of life, then sin must inevitably lead to death; if the humans are to be spared, someone must die in their place, to uphold the balance of justice. Not just anyone, though. None of the ordinary humans will suffice, because they already deserve this consequence. The only one righteous enough to take on the challenge is the only one who doesn’t deserve it — the sinless man, God in the flesh, Jesus Christ.⁵

And so, the plan of God takes shape. In the form of Jesus, he will descend into his creation, just as he did when he first spoke it into being. He will live a perfect life for thirty-three years, and then he will sacrifice himself to save his people from all their messiness and sin.⁶

Towards the end of the four Gospels, it is this man who waits in the garden of Gethsemane, exhausted and alone, preparing for his rescue mission to commence.

In this second garden, no hint of Eden’s blissful serenity remains. Jesus may be fully God, but he’s also fully human: we see him assaulted with all the frenetic emotions one would expect of a man about to be killed. He’s in agony, “overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,”⁷ his sweat laced with blood⁸, falling on his face before his Father. He takes the cup of his demise into shaking hands, and he prays for God’s will to be done.

Once again, the entire world is about to turn upside down. Once again, a man is about to give up everything for the unworthy. But unlike in Adam’s case, Jesus’s sacrifice will save humanity, not condemn it. Not through thoughtless pride, but through incredible, intentional humility. And while Adam dismissed God’s authority to chase his own desires, Jesus will take on immense suffering for the glory of his Father’s name.

These passages are sobering, and rightly so. Ultimately, though, Gethsemane gives hope to the struggling Christian; no matter how our flesh may fail, our faith lies in the redeeming sacrifice of Jesus, and our salvation in Him is secure.⁹ As displayed in the very next chapters, like Eden’s peace, Gethsemane’s anguish won’t last: Jesus will return from the dead and bathe this broken world in hope.¹⁰ He will rise, and we have been rising ever since.

Granted, it can be slow and uncertain, this process of sanctification.¹¹ However, we know that one day, God will come down to earth for the final time. The book of Revelation tells us that once again, we will “be his people, and God himself will be with [us] and be [our] God. He will wipe every tear from [our] eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things [will have] passed away.”¹²

From Eden to Gethsemane, and onward to eternity, He is the one thing that never changes. So as we wait and watch for that day, when we will once again enjoy eternity in his presence, we pursue the life that Jesus modeled for us. We rest in our Father’s boundless love and sovereign will. We seek to bring others into his kingdom. And we trust him with joy and steadfastness, that he will one day lead us home.