Hence the line "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth..." (Gen. 1:1). Initially, there was God, and from Him, came everything else. And when he says, "Let there be light." He actually brings into existence so much more than that. The light fills the void, the universe is set into motion, and remarkably, we have the concept of space, and if we have space, we must also have time. From that moment of first creating, Genesis plunges us into chronos (chronological time), wrenching us out of Kairos (God's time). That is why we begin to measure in days, and that is how the narrative is able to move forward.
On the next day, God performs another act of equal importance. He separates the heavens and the earth. This allows us to understand God in his transcendent nature (outside of space and time) while simultaneously allowing us to understand that we, as His creation, are still bound by these elements. In other words, we are not God(s), nor are we meant to be, and that theme prevails throughout Genesis 1-11, and ultimately, most of the Old Testament.
With this, the scene is set for the creation of man, and the rules are in place as well. Adam is brought forth, and given the breath of life. The hebrew word used is נֶפֶשׁ (pronounced nephesh) and it means soul, mind, spirit, or life. If we understand this in Aristotelian fashion, this is the moment when Adam received the rational soul. In other words, he was set apart from other humanoid like creatures in that he became self-aware and developed the ability to reason. That is why he can eventually recognize Eve as being like him, while also recognizing that they are not like the others. And there is actually a lot of support for this theory from a scientific perspective as well. If we look at "man" as an evolutionary product, there is a left turn that takes place along the evolutionary path that results in an explosion of culture, the use of advanced tools, the cooking of food, and an assortment of other components that skyrocket homo sapiens beyond other species on our planet. One explanation for this radical advancement is the bequeathing of the rational soul. In a lot of ways, it can best be understood through Michelangelo's visual rendering in the Sistine Chapel:
Adam possesses a vacant gaze that we can only assume represents the animal like nature of his existence. The theory then being that the breath of life wakes him up, brings him into his full humanity. Adam becomes animated and rational.
And as the narrative continues, we know this is the case. He has dominion over the other animals, but more importantly, he recognizes that he is not like them, and that consequently he is alone, and potentially without purpose. Or at least without a purpose that challenges him.
The understanding is that Adam then asks God for a job, and God responds by telling him to guide and protect (literally, to shied) and naturally Adam does not understand what he is meant to guide and protect until he sees Eve. She is bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh, she gives him purpose.
But this is where the narrative also begins to unravel. We have every reason to believe that, for a time, Adam and Eve live harmoniously in the garden. That is until they encounter the character in the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Understanding everything that comes before this moment is crucial if we are to best understand what eventually transpires. God had previously told Adam and Eve to not eat from the tree, but also gave them the free will to act against His commands. Yet, if we return to the second day, and look at it in comparison to the line that is ultimately responsible for tricking Adam and Eve, we can also see that Adam and Eve (and us) were not supposed to be God, we were simply meant to be in relationship with Him. Consequently, it is fair to assume that this would always be something that humanity struggled with, the idea of being gods versus the idea of being in relationship with Him.
Furthermore, we gain additional insight by understanding the task laid out before Adam: to guide and protect. Without this information, the scene at the tree looks quite a bit different. Eve is talking to the character in the tree, and for a long time, we were lead to believe that Adam was off, surely minding is own business, until Eve sought him out with the fruits of their destruction. This narrative was appealing for a number of reasons, but primarily because it allowed the blame to be placed cleanly on the devil and his compatriot: women. However, we now know that to be wildly inaccurate. Michelangelo's rendition of the fall appropriately exposes the faulty nature of this thinking:
The key being this: Adam was with her. This changes everything. Adam had a job, to guide and protect, and he failed to do his job. And you can think what you want about Eve's freewill, but we know two things for certain: They were told not to eat from the tree, and Adam was told to guide and protect. He failed. They failed.
Now, you will notice something else that is quite interesting about this painting that potentially sheds even more light on how we are to understand these events. As noted, Adam and Eve were told not to eat from the tree. Consequently, it is difficult to understand why Eve is so easily deceived. She is rational, she possesses feminine intuition, everything is in place for her to make the right decision. That is of course unless she is mesmerized, enchanted, or mislead. Any of these could have been the case. It is likely that the character in the tree is Lucifer, the fallen Angel (and also the devil), and we learn throughout scripture that he is masterful when it comes to the art of deception. Eve would have been entranced by his charisma, but also deceived by his appearance. As Michelangelo portrays it, Lucifer appears in his angelic form, the serpent piece of him (symbolizing the deception) is coiled around the tree like a vine. It is far easier to understand the decision of Adam and Eve through this perspective. If the character in the tree appears to be divine, and if he seems to reveal the kinds of truths they want to hear, it all of a sudden becomes a recipe for disaster. The reason we often fail to do the right thing is because we are deceived into believing that our actions are in fact good. We do not rely on what we objectively know, we allow ourselves to be mislead.
Ultimately, that is why we so often miss the mark. And that is why Adam and Eve engaged in original sin and introduced weakness (concupiscence) and knowledge into the world. The problem is that nothing has changed. The system of sin remains the same.
How does the narrative then unfold? Well, in short, Adam and Eve feel the shame of their actions, they cover themselves and hide. Remember, they can no longer trust one another. And once their sin is unveiled, they lay blame on what they can and then live with the consequences.
Genesis reveals this very simple truth: not much has changed. When we sin, what do we do? We feel the guilt of it, we attempt to hide it, when it is uncovered, we make excuses, find justifications, and blame others, and then we too live with the consequences. On account of our weakness, breaking from the cycle feels so difficult.
But Genesis also leaves us with a choice: we can do our jobs, we can engage in a shared responsibility for one another (i.e. screw the lid back on the Odwalla bottle), and when we fall, we can support one another as we climb back toward holiness. Or we can live for ourselves, shirk responsibility, and deal with the loneliness of that choice. One of these options leaves our freedom intact, the other binds us in our own selfishness.
The beauty of Genesis lies in the fact that it reveals to us that from the moment of HIS life giving breath, we have been made free, and though the battle against our weakness is challenging, we also have the ability to prevail.
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