In Defense of the Snake

by Amy Hutchisson   ○    May 17, 2023   ○    4 min read

Listen to this essay read by the author (5:53)

This essay is something of a continuation on last week's Questions in Genesis.


I was taught the Bible was literally God’s letter to humanity, providing me the answers I need to know and the instructions I must follow to live a good and godly life. And, for most of my life, I accepted that. I knew there were some difficult passages that didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, but I was told to trust that those passages somehow didn’t mean what they seemed to mean, even as other verses must be taken at face value, because the Bible clearly says so.


One of the stories we tell children in Sunday School is commonly referred to as “The Fall.” I believed it was meant to explain how our common ancestors brought sin into God’s perfect world. Genesis 3 begins with Adam and Eve, in the garden, talking to God in the cool of the day. They were naked and unashamed. There's just this one tree that God had warned them about. 


"You are free to eat from any tree in the garden," so began the simple instructions. "But you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die." 


Then a snake shows up to suggest God is holding out on Adam and Eve. 


"Did God really say," the snake hisses, "‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?"


Eve corrects the snake, pointing out it's just this one tree that's the problem. Yet, the snake persists, "You will certainly not die," I imagine a ridiculous chortle at this point. God, the snake insists, is overstating the case. There is no death on the table here. Gaining knowledge will make you too much like God. There is a certain insecurity, the snake suggests, that leaves God wanting to keep Adam and Eve ignorant of that which would bring them too close for comfort.


And Eve wonders. Is God really good? She looks at the fruit. The fruit looks good. What's the worst that could happen? She takes a bite. It's delicious! She offers it to Adam so he can enjoy it as well.


The story continues with Adam's and Eve's eyes being opened to their nakedness. For the first time, there is shame. They try to cover themselves, to hide from who they really are because they are ashamed.


Where was God all this time? The text doesn’t say. Once fig leaves have been sewn together into makeshift coverings, God calls out, "Where are you?" I imagine Adam and Eve exchanging an anxious glance. God is back and now they're in for it!


Like a divine game of hide and seek, Adam eventually comes face to face with God. He clears his throat, scuffs his toe in the dirt and tries out the truth, "I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid."


I imagine God with a frown. You know the one, after you've gone to your dad or your aunt, or your favorite teacher and explained how you'd uncovered evidence that really, you were a bad kid, and you got a sad frown, one you thought came from anger or, perhaps despair that it had taken you so long to figure this out, but then the words came, and they weren't what you were expecting, "Who told you that?"


Adam, I suspect, doesn't meet God's eyes. He looks off to the side or down at his chest, scuffing his foot again, and wondering how to explain about the talking snake. Any good parent clearly recognizes this posture and already knows what happened. Yet, confession is good for the soul, so rather than accusing Adam, I picture God putting an arm around his shoulder and asking gently, "Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?"


In his shame, not knowing how to reconcile the desire to be good with what seems irrefutable proof he is bad, Adam tries to shift the blame, "The woman you put here with me—she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it." Yeah, it wasn't me, God, I wouldn't have done it except she made me! 


So, God asks Eve for her side of the story. She blames the snake for lying to her. And here is where it gets interesting. God doesn't kill Adam and Eve off. No bolt of lightning burns them where they stand. Instead, God says their life is going to be hard, then kills some animals to make more durable garments than the fig leaves. Before kicking them out of the garden, there is an interesting conversation. God says, “Now Adam has become like one of us, knowing good from evil. What if he were to eat from the tree of life and live forever?”


I was taught the snake was the liar, and God was, in very being, Truth. God said if Adam and Eve ate from the tree they would die. The snake said they would not. The snake told them God didn't want them becoming too godlike. God expressed that very concern. Adam blames Eve for making him eat the apple. Eve says the snake lied to her. Yet, the snake, the one I was taught was actually Satan in animal form, is the only character in the whole story who consistently tells the truth.

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Image is an action shot of a brown and beige snake slithering toward the upper left over pea gravel with a few small, leafy weeds.

Gopher snake not quite blending in to its surroundings.