Many cultures of faith have argued that humanity suffers because of a woman’s sin. This notion has always been the source of discomfort, and it was not until I found a Pagan gestalt that I understood why.
I will say this now, I hold women as special vessels of God, especially when they are in the role of motherhood. As a panentheist this Pagan holds that each event within the Universe is a Part of the Universe, and so is a part of God. Women, however, are the gate way into life, and life is the great blessing. Just take a moment and think: no woman has to have a child. So, what would anyone be if she had chosen that this time would not be a time to have a child? What if you had never been born? In the shadow of the void that this question generates for me, I must say I am grateful to be alive, to enjoy those teddy bears in the sky … the first taste of ice cream … the time I fell from the monkey bars and did not bounce so well. So! My mother is sacred to me, and gets a birthday present when it is my birthday.
Enough with this personal spiritual experience that says a woman should not be demonized by anyone. This essay is meant to address the argument that the “Woman in the Garden” is to blame. Closer scrutiny will show that is just not so.
The story notes that Elohym formed the man of the loose soil°. When he was lonely for companions, a woman was made from his ribs. The rabbis argue this was done so that they would be equal, and seek each other for protection.
[°The translations of the Hebrew testament in this essay are my own and do not necessarily reflect those of a Hebrew scholar. I am grateful for the help of Liz with respect to some areas of difficulty.]
While it was just the man, he was set into a garden of delights. Elohym gave him the task of caring for this garden.
They told him that he may eat of all the trees in that garden. “Yet from the° tree of the knowledge of good and bad do not eat from him. For in that day you will eat from him a dead mortality.”
[°Just as in the King James’ version, I have used the Italics to denote words added for English clarity that the Hebrew does not have. This is presumption on my part, as we may insert any other word if it makes the sentence just as clear.]
Now, Many of us have known children … no, scratch that … all of us have been children. Often, the fastest way to get a child to get into the cookie jar is to tell them to stay out of it. This is not perfect. One child may stay out because we asked them, another because we threatened them. Most, however, will wait for the perfect opportunity and sneak one out. What sort of child the man in the garden was, we may never know (especially since he is a myth).
Along comes the woman. She found herself near that tree performing an oracle°. In the conversation she tells the serpent that the rule is, “‘of the fruit of the Tree which is in the midst of the Garden,’ says Elohym, ‘we may not eat from him, nor touch him, lest we die.’” The tree has lost its name. It has now become some mystery to be discovered.
[°In Orthodox Hebrew writing, vowel markings are only of recent creation. The Hebrew for Oracle or omen is spelled the same way as that for serpent, just the vowels are pronounced differently. This would make her having a conversation with a serpent a bit more plausible.]
Now, someone has said that women have written the best mystery novels. It seems they love to solve problems and crack mysteries.
In his book The Descent of Man, Darwin related a story about a “Serpent in a Bag.” Primates are scared to death of snakes. This is good, as some are poisonous, and all are predators. Toss a snake — real or not — into a community of chimpanzees and watch them scream and panic. Toss that snake into a bag and place it into that same community and something astonishing happens. The chimps obviously frightened, will sneak up onto the bag, and very carefully try to have a look inside. Upon opening the bag and seeing the “snake” they will scream in panic and fly to the nearest tree. Or course, the people in the Garden were a lot more evolved than Chimpanzees. … Wait, I’m getting lost, aren’t I?
The point was that the tree had gone from one level of taboo to another. Did the man not trust his sister? Or did he just not trust himself? This question may not be relevant, as it presumes the woman received the changed rule from the man. Whether he changed it, or she did, they changed the rule in two basic places. The object of taboo went from the “Tree of Knowledge of Good and Bad” whose fruit they must not eat, to “The Tree in the midst of the Garden” that must not even be touched. The Qur’án takes this a little further and says “approach not this tree,” [Sura 7:20]. Details such as this are not so important, unless the details change the course of history. The second place the rule was changed in the ad baculum, “dead mortal” became “die.”
Well, the woman ate the fruit — which required that she touch it — and she did not die. Her nakedness became wisdom°. She gave some fruit to the man — without having to go looking for him‡ — and his nakedness also became wisdom. In other words, they lost their innocence.
[°In Orthodox Hebrew writing, vowel markings are only of recent creation. The Hebrew word for Naked and Wisdom are spelled the same, just the vowels are pronounced differently.
‡ Yes, this is another presumption, based on the lack of the story saying she went anywhere to find the man. It says “she gave it” to him.]
What actually happened next may have been the real problem, and is the inspiration for this argument. Elohym comes into the Garden and starts looking for Her children. They hid, and tried to cover their naked-wisdom from Her.
Elohym asked the man what happened, “Did you get into the cookie jar as I told you not to?”
Like the child looking at his feet, arms folded behind him, and looking for excuses, he says, “yeah, But She Made Me Do It!”
Now, let me take note that we often change the high story … eh, history of the victors so that the blame is squarely placed on the shoulders of the victim. Is that what is done here? One might wonder what would happen if the man had said, “Well, the fruit looked so good, and I know it was wrong, but I chose to do what I did.” Nah, never happens.
So, the story hides the truth, just as the Tree of Knowledge was hidden. If the children of the Garden were perfect, they might not have desired for anything. Somehow, that imperfection may have been left — Elohym’s Persian flaw, if you will — so that humanity might grow … and it is suspected that Elohym wanted to grow and experience things with them, or through them.
I know this essay will not persuade some that the “Fall” in the Garden was not necessarily the woman’s fault. Some still believe the Earth is flat, and that babies come by way of storks. I do hope I have shown some that this story is an appeal to dignity, rather than an appeal for prejudice. After all, the man is clearly just as much at fault for his choices. He knew what that fruit was, and still chose to do what he did.