This sermon is the last one in the series considering chapters 1-3 of Genesis. Is the Garden of Eden just a fairy tale... or might it be the symbol of one of our deepest longings? When I preached this sermon in church, it resonated with a number of people who heard it. Maybe it will touch something in you, as well.
Over the last several weeks, we have considered the creation stories that are told in Genesis. We have watched in wonder as God spoke the universe into being, carved out a space for us to live, and created humanity in his own image. We have listened to God tell us that our job is to “till and keep” the earth; and pondered the relationship between man and woman, the partner who “corresponds to him.” We watched those first humans eating the forbidden fruit as they tried to improve their status to be “like gods;” and saw the disastrous consequences of that action. This morning appears to be the end of that story. God has expelled those human beings from the Garden of Eden to make their own way in a hostile world.
But… is it really the end of the story? Actually, it
is only the beginning of a long story that isn’t even finished yet. It began in
hope as two children, Cain and Abel, were born. It continued with
God choosing Abraham and Sarah to be the parents of God’s special people; and
liberating their descendents from Egypt in a great Exodus. Those people were
gifted with a land and leaders – some wise, others not so wise. When those
people were conquered and dragged away in Babylon because of their foolishness,
God stayed with them, and brought them back to their homeland once again.
But throughout the
whole story, God’s people knew that they weren’t really where they belonged. Their homeland of Israel was only just a
taste of their real home. Every now and then, one of the prophets talked about
it. Isaiah described a place where there will be no more tears, no more death,
and abundance for all; a place where the lion will lie down with the lamb, and humans
will be reconciled with all creation. We know about that place, too. It’s the
place where we want to be; the home that is so deep inside us that we’ve all
yearned for it at one time or another.
C.S. Lewis, 20th
century essayist and novelist, tried to describe it:
“[There is]
something that you were born desiring, and which, beneath the flux of other
desires… night and day, year by year, from childhood to old age, you are
looking for, watching for, listening for…. You have never had it. All the
things that have ever deeply possessed your soul have been but hints of it –
tantalizing glimpses, promises never quite fulfilled, echoes that died away
just as they caught your ear. But if it should ever really become manifest – if
there ever came an echo that did not die away but swelled into the sound itself
– you would know it. Beyond all possibility of doubt, you would say, ‘Here at
last is the thing I was made for.’ It is… the thing we desired before we met
our wives or made our friends or chose our work, and which we shall still
desire on our deathbeds, when the mind no longer knows wife or friend or work.
While we are, this is.”
Yes, our deepest
desire is to be where we belong. And when we hear faint echoes of that place,
we know it! We’ve all felt those echoes in one way or another. Some of us feel
them best in nature when we see a sunset, a rainbow, one drop of dew on the red
velvet of a rose. Others feel them through great art or music – the tragic
grace of Michelangelo’s Pieta sculpture, perhaps; or the magnificent chords of
Beethoven’s 9th Symphony. Most of us feel them in the profound
silence of a cathedral. Surely, we feel them when we are gathered as the Body
of Christ, worshipping and fellowshipping together as an extended family. And whether
you believe that the Garden of Eden was a real, physical place that existed one
historical day long ago; or whether you believe that the Garden is a symbol for
a world uncorrupted by sin – it comes to the same thing. We all yearn for our
world as we know it should be, but isn’t. The world that should be is our real home.
The way that we get
to that world is through Jesus Christ. That’s why the Messiah came, after all –
to get us back where we belong. We can’t get there by ourselves, no matter how
hard we try. We need a whole lot of help to get back home. Jesus’ entire life
was devoted to showing us what that home looks like, and helping us to get back
there. He was born in a stable to show us that the status we yearn for so
deeply isn’t really important after all. He showed us through his life of love
and compassion what life in our true home will be like. Because we human beings
didn’t believe him, and preferred to cling to power and status, he died on a
cross. But he rose on Easter morning to gift us with the home that we lost –
home right now through our relationship with him, and the promise of home
forever on one day yet to come.
You see, when we
live with Jesus and in Jesus, we are back in the Garden
again. It started with Mary Magdalene on Easter morning when Jesus called her
name – “Mary.” Jesus calls each one of us, too, by name, and invites us back
into the Garden that is really a foretaste of the fullness of the Kingdom of
God. That’s what heaven really is – the home that we thought was lost, restored
to us again. The good news is that we’re going there one day when our lives are
over. The better news is that we can
glimpse it right now when we live in fellowship with Jesus Christ. When we
pray, meditate, or do works of mercy and compassion in Jesus’ name, we slip
away, even if ever so briefly, into our true home.
Echoes of Eden are
really whispers of Heaven. We can already hear them, through the love of God,
the grace of Jesus Christ, and the working of the Holy Spirit. Thanks be to God
that through Jesus’ living presence, we are home already. And thanks be to God
that through Jesus’ resurrection, we will one day be home forever, never to
leave again.