Words fill our world—some true but many false. They careen around us, mostly beyond our awareness. Lies drift in the atmosphere like ash in the wind. We might even be breathing them . . .right now. In fact, the greatest lie in the history of humanity—the lie thatGod is not everywhere and always present—came in like a whisper, and it still haunts us. Let me tell you how I think it arrived in Genesis 3.
ATTACKING GOD'S CHARACTER
Because God is God and we are not, there’s something we have to understand at the outset of Genesis 3. What I’m about to say isn’t anything new in terms of theology proper, but it may be new in terms of its application to the fall.
God is one. Recall the prayer known as the shema: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one” (Deut. 6:4). Though God is three persons, he is one essence.[1] In relation to this, theologians also talk about God’s simplicity. He cannot be torn into parts. Herman Bavinck calls this God’s “inner qualitative oneness.”[2] What in the world does that mean? Well, it means that we can’t break God down into parts or separate who he is from what he’s like.[3] Whenever and wherever God is, we get all of him. When he acts in a certain way in history, one of his attributes (e.g., justice, mercy, grace, power) may be prominent, but all of the other attributes are there as well. God is always wholly God. When he enacts justice, he’s still loving, patient, kind, long-suffering, beautiful, etc.
Another way to express this truth is to say that all of God’s attributes are perspectives on each other; they’re all interrelated.[4] I’ve found Geerhardus Vos insightful here: “We may be content to say that all God’s attributes are related most closely to each other and penetrate each other in the most intimate unity.”[5] Because of God’s unity, each attribute of God can serve as a perspective on all the others.[6] Put differently, “each attribute describes the whole of God, not just a part of him. If so, it also describes every other attribute, because all the attributes belong to who God is.”[7]
Because God is simple, when one of his attributes is attacked, there’s a sense in which all of his attributes are attacked.
Why am I saying all this, and what does it have to do with Genesis 3 and the greatest lie ever told? We need to grasp what happens when someone attacks the character of God as Satan did in Genesis 3. Because God is simple, when one of his attributes is attacked, there’s a sense in which all of his attributes are attacked. When God’s authority is challenged, for example, so is the love, glory, holiness, and beauty through which that authority is expressed. And so is the presence of God, which grounds God’s authority and control. God couldn’t be fully authoritative if he wasn’t fully present. There is a sense, in other words, in which an attack on one of God’s attributes is an attack on all of them.
ATTACKING GOD'S PRESENCE
Now, it’s basically unanimous among theologians throughout history that what happened in Genesis 3 was an attack on God’s verbal authority. Satan challenged the truthfulness of God in his word (“Did God really say . . . ?”), which was an attack on the authority of God, since God’s words represent his authority. In fact, the eternal Word (the Son) is God, and the words God speaks to us as creatures derive their authority from him.[8]
I’ve told my students in the past that “autonomy” (self-governance) is like a theological curse word when applied to creatures. Whenever creatures are said to pursue autonomy, we should gasp. There’s only one autonomous being, and that’s God. When creatures rebel against his authority, they try to claim autonomy; they act as if they can be self-sufficient, that they can go their own way. John Frame even goes as far as to say that autonomy lies at the heart of every sin.[9] Autonomy is what Satan encourages Adam and Eve to pursue, as we’ll see momentarily. He tells Adam and Eve to go their own way, to be a law unto themselves. That is a direct attack on God’s authority, since God is the only one who is autonomous. But based on what we just noted concerning God’s oneness and simplicity, it’s also a tacit attack on all of God’s other attributes.
To dismiss God’s authority is also to dismiss the presence of God that stands behind that authority.
So, when Satan attacked God’s authority by attacking his word, he also attacked God’s presence. To dismiss God’s authority is also to dismiss the presence of God that stands behind that authority. So, when Satan uttered the question, “Did God really say . . . ?” (Gen. 3:1), there’s a sense in which he’s also asking, “Is God really here to uphold his word?”[10]
You can also approach it from the opposite direction. If God isn’t present, he can’t be authoritative. Questioning his authority is thus questioning his presence. When we’re talking about God, “Is God really here?” and “Did God really say?” are inseparable questions. The bottom line is that Satan wasn’t just challenging God’s authority in Genesis 3. He was also challenging God’s presence (along with the rest of God’s attributes). How did he do this, and what does it mean for us?
TO SPEAK 'AS IF'
I often tell my kids, “It’s not just what you say; it’s how you say it.” The manner is just as important as the matter. I think this is where we get a sense of Satan’s attack on God’s presence.
Now, because God is the God who speaks, the one who is a linguistic community unto himself, it’s not too surprising that an attack on God and his image bearers came through language.[11] However, I’m not going to focus as much on the serpent’s misquotation and distortion of God’s words in his conversation with Eve. That’s important to examine and remember, but I want to focus elsewhere. I want to shift our attention to something more subtle and yet perhaps far more dangerous.
You see, before the cunning serpent twisted God’s words and wielded them against the first humans, he introduced a manner of speaking. Stay with me here. I know this seems abstract, but this is where Satan is at his best. If we miss it, we’ll find ourselves at our worst.
We all know that how something is said is just as important as what is said, if not more so. Let’s take a moment and ask, “How did the serpent speak?” Here’s the passage. What do you notice?
Now the serpent was more crafty than any other beast of the field that the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God actually say, ‘You shall not eat of any tree in the garden’?” And the woman said to the serpent, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden, but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the midst of the garden, neither shall you touch it, lest you die.’” But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not surely die. 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.” (Gen. 3:1–5)
What’s going on here? Several things! But look at just two of them.
First, there’s a movement from distorting God’s words, to adding to them, and then outrightly opposing them. Distortion, addition, then opposition. The serpent’s words are bookends in this conversation. He moves swiftly from misquotation to defiance, using Eve’s exaggeration as a stepping stone.
Second, we need to consider the dialogue between the serpent and Eve in the context of what God has already said. Genesis 2:17 leaves no room for ambiguity or misinterpretation—there’s a single, clear consequence for going against the word of the Lord: judgment. That’s what awaits anyone who goes against his command, who challenges his authority. Later in redemptive history, we see the pattern repeated over and over again: opposing God’s word brings judgment (Num. 15:31; 1 Sam. 15:26; 1 Kgs. 13:26; 2 Kgs. 22:13; 2 Chr. 34:21; 36:16; Isa. 5:24; Jer. 19:15; 25:3–8; and many others).
Putting these two things together leads to a striking observation. Are you ready? This is the great lie. The conversation between the serpent and Eve is carried on without any indication that they truly believed in or expected God’s judgment. Instead, they speak as if God is not present, as if they are separated from him (autonomy) and can act without fearing his wrath, which is grounded in God’s presence. In fact, Eve and the serpent speak as if God is not omnipresent, as if he weren’t there to carry out immediate judgment. At the very least, they disregard his authority to judge, which is still an attack on God’s presence because we’re always in the presence of the authoritative God.
In a discussion of what all men owe to God, Abraham Kuyper wrote, “Men owe God because He lives, exists, never departs, forever abides; and because from moment to moment they must transact business with Him.”[12] We’re always, from our inception to our end, transacting with God, engaging with him, living in relation to him. Elsewhere Kuyper writes, “Whether sinner or saint, angel in heaven or demon in hell, even plant or animal, each lives, moves, and exists in God.”[13] You can see the tie to Acts 17:28. I love the way Lanier Burns put it in his book on God’s presence: “Every life is a journey, and every person is formed by presences, for better or worse, the presence of God being the most important of all.”[14] The bottom line is that we can’t act as if God were not present because that’s always a lie, the great lie. God is always present, and we’re responsible to act as if that truth holds.
We can’t act as if God were not present because that’s always a lie, the great lie. God is always present, and we’re responsible to act as if that truth holds.
In Genesis 3, the great lie comes through in the manner of their speaking, in the as if behind their speech and actions. Satan and Eve keep speaking of God in the third person.[15] Satan doesn’t acknowledge God’s presence by saying, “God, did you really say . . . ?” And Eve doesn’t claim, “God, you said . . .” God is being treated as a third-party outsider, as if there’s a little sphere of communication among his creatures where he isn’t present, where his word doesn’t have authority, where judgment won’t come.
MATTER AND MANNER
That, I’m arguing, was the birth of the great lie, the lie that God is not always and everywhere present with us. The subtlety of the serpent is not just in his twisting of God’s words. He’s even more dangerous than that. It’s in his mannerism, his speaking about God as if God were not authoritatively present.
I haven’t read many theologians who point this out. Some might argue that this “isn’t in the text.” But I’d say it’s definitely in the text, because all texts communicate both matter and manner, a what and a how. We usually focus on the what, but even when we do that, we assume a how. The same concept applies to biblical interpretation. When I read the verse, “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” I use a certain intonation, and I emphasize particular words. I don’t read it like a robot. I give it a mannerism, a how. We just don’t typically talk about this. We’re less comfortable and confident interpreting how a text means than we are interpreting what a text means. But we can’t do one without the other. The what is always tied with the how. We can’t emphasize one and ignore the other. We can’t claim to say we’ve interpreted Satan’s speech in Genesis 3 if we haven’t commented on how he’s speaking.
We can’t claim to say we’ve interpreted Satan’s speech in Genesis 3 if we haven’t commented on how he’s speaking.
All I’m doing is deriving the how from the what, the mannerism from the context. I’m pulling out an attack on God’s presence based on an attack on God’s word, authority, and judgment.
“But that’s not in the actual text,” some people say. “The rebellion of the serpent, Adam, and Eve was behavior based on words, not mannerisms.” I see the point, but words come from someplace deeper: the heart. Jesus himself said, “what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this defiles a person. For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false witness, slander” (Matt. 15:18–19). Evil thoughts, indeed. Could a rejection of God’s kingly presence at the dawn of creation be conceived as anything other than an evil thought?
We have to go beneath the words, using the context to do it. Given the context of Satan’s distortion of God’s words and Eve’s subsequent exaggeration, it’s clear that both are acting as if judgment from God won’t be immediate, that God won’t do what he said he would (Gen. 2:17), that God isn’t and won’t be present to carry out his word.
The fact that we don’t easily recognize this only compliments the serpent’s cunning. This is a move by the father of lies, the origin of deception, the fountain of falsehood. Satan’s cunning isn’t only in his blatant changing of God’s words. That’s too easy. Growing up, I used to think, “Gee, the serpent wasn’t that cunning. He obviously made changes to God’s words and then flat-out lied to Eve.” But now I see it differently: it wasn’t just the matter of the serpent’s speech; it was the manner. He spoke in a way that suggested God’s absence. And his mannerism still haunts us.
If you’re getting goosebumps, then you’re catching on to what I’m saying. That was my original response to the idea: goosebumps. I mean, how often do we think about the manner of Satan’s speech? How often do we think of the matter or content of his speech? You know the answer. Do you see the cunning? Do you see a mastermind of deception at work? How many hearts since Genesis 3 has Satan blinded simply by acting as if God isn’t really present? Some might wonder, “What does acting as if God’s not present look like?” It looks like a disregard for God’s word, authority, and judgment.
'AS IF' AND REBELLION
Once this great lie was born, the stage was set for rebellion. Speaking as if God weren’t present led to acting as if God weren’t present. Though we can’t say for sure, Eve and Adam may very well have eaten from the forbidden tree because they gave in to the great lie that God was not omnipresent, since his word was not authoritative, and thus judgment would not follow. How could they have eaten the forbidden fruit if they truly believed in God’s presence with them?
Again, slow down and process this. If God had physically appeared to Eve—in what theologians call a theophany—while she was still speaking to the serpent, would she have changed her response to the serpent’s request?[16] Would she have eaten from the tree and given some to her husband? If the face of God were directly before her, how would that interaction have changed?
“But God wasn’t present in front of Eve,” you might say. That’s true in one sense, but false in another. It’s true that God wasn’t physically present to Eve in a dramatic or majestic vision (theophany). And yet all of God’s world is a sort of theophany, an appearing of God, because all of God’s spoken creation reflects his nature and presence (Ps. 19:1–4; Rom. 1:20). “Created things reflect the God who made them. And through created things God shows who he is.”[17] Just because God wasn’t before Adam and Eve as a burning bush or a thunderous cloud doesn’t mean he wasn’t present. His presence isn’t only theophanic. It’s also a spoken presence, through creation and through his special verbal revelation—both of which Adam and Eve already had in the garden. In other words,
Spectacular theophanies like Mount Sinai and the descent of fire at Mount Carmel stand out above ‘routine’ providences and ‘routine’ history. But theologically speaking, providence and history are never merely ‘routine’ but serve in a less spectacular way to display the same great truths about the power and greatness and kindness of God. Spectacular theophanies, therefore, can be seen as windows onto the realities about God that are always on display in providence.[18]
Always on display. In that garden, when Eve was addressed by a cunning serpent, God’s presence was on display in the things that he made. He was present through his speech. And God’s spoken presence is just as real as physical presence. The difference is a matter of faith. It takes less faith (and more awe) to believe in God’s presence when a voice emerges from a burning bush. It takes more faith (and more obedience) to believe in God’s presence when it’s invisible, when it comes through the things he’s spoken into motion. The latter is what our faith is striving for right now (2 Cor. 5:7).
Each day is a call to remember the great truth: God is always and everywhere present. There is no room where he is not.
In sum, before the entrance of sin in the world, God was present and revealed in the things that he had made, things that were created, sustained, and governed by his Word (Gen. 1:1; Rom. 1:20; Heb. 1:3). He was also present as he spoke directly to Adam and Eve, as evidenced by Genesis 2:16–17. They knew that God was ever-present and good.
Satan deceived them by speaking as if God were not, attacking not only God’s authority and judgment, but also his presence. And since that moment, humanity has been plunged into the depths of doubt.
That, I believe, is how the greatest lie in the history of humanity came in. It pushed through the door like a whisper, but its effects on us have been thunderous. It’s changed the way we think, speak, and act. I’ll leave you to ponder for yourself how your thoughts, speech, and actions might suggest you’re living under the pretense of the great lie.
Each day is a call to remember the great truth: God is always and everywhere present. There is no room where he is not. How might that change us?
Pierce Taylor Hibbs, The Great Lie. Available at Amazon.