Adam's Apple

Back when I attended church, the Eden story was taught at least once a year, and the conclusion always seemed to boil down to Eve taking the blame—or somehow absolving Adam. Even then, I found it strange how the blame game from that ancient tale still plays out in modern times.

What always struck me was Adam’s victim mentality. Instead of taking responsibility for his actions, he deflected: “The woman you gave me.” It’s almost as if he saw himself as the real victim, set up by both Eve and God. From God's point of view, Adam was the first human, the elder, and naturally given charge. In any family, when parents place the younger sibling under the elder’s care, it comes with responsibility—the elder should know better.

If my younger brother told me he’d consumed poison, something I knew was dangerous, my first reaction would be panic, desperately searching for a solution. The only way I would knowingly join him in that act would be if I were suicidal—or, in a romantic sense, wanting to die alongside a lover. But the Eden story wasn’t some ancient precursor to Romeo and Juliet. His betrayal of Eve came quickly, throwing her under the bus without hesitation. This raises questions: did he ever truly accept her as his partner? Or was he blinded by resentment over not having a choice in her becoming his partner?

In a way, the Adam and Eve story highlights the risks of an arranged marriage. Eve was literally made for Adam, crafted from his rib, from the bone that protects his heart. Yet Adam seemed blinded by the fact that he had no say in her creation, failing to see her for who she truly was. And then there’s the question of Adam’s decision to eat the fruit. Was he truly tricked, or had he always been curious? Maybe seeing Eve alive after eating the fruit gave him the final push to man up and ignore God’s instructions.

Of course, there’s also the serpent’s role. How did it know the fruit wouldn’t cause death? It’s like the serpent and God were in on a dark joke, playing a game to see whose reasoning would win. The Job story comes to mind here. It’s also strange that the serpent was conveniently left out of the questioning afterward. It clearly had the ability to communicate, so why wasn’t it asked, “Why did you tell Eve?” And what of Eve herself? If eating the fruit made her all-knowing, perhaps she foresaw the outcomes of sharing the knowledge with Adam—and did it anyway.

The Eden story was a situation destined to fail, almost by design. Every parent knows that telling a child not to touch something often only ignites their curiosity to do just that, revealing that the Eden story isn’t merely a cautionary tale about disobedience; rather, it serves as a profound lesson about trust and the consequences of breaking it. It also sheds a light on taking responsibility - something society still struggles with taking ownership of till this day.