A Deeper Look at a Familiar Story

The story of humanity’s fall in Genesis 3 is not just a historical event. It is a profound reflection of our daily struggles. It is a masterclass in psychological manipulation. It reveals how our loves become disordered. We learn to desire the wrong things for what seem like the right reasons.

The Silent Guardian and the First Disordered Love

One of the most overlooked aspects of this narrative is the presence of—and telling silence—of Adam. The text specifically notes that he was “with her” during the serpent’s conversation with Eve, yet he remains completely passive. This wasn’t merely a personal moral failure; it represented the first case of disordered love in human history.

Adam’s love had become self-serving, misdirected.

 Rather than loving God supremely and his wife sacrificially, he loved his own comfort and safety more than his calling. He had been charged with tending and guarding the garden. The Hebrew word for “keep” in Genesis 2:15 (shamar) is the same word used for protecting and guarding. Yet at the crucial moment when spiritual protection was most needed, the guardian chose self-preservation over service.

This pattern of disordered love continues to echo today. We love ourselves more than our responsibilities. Our comfort means more than our calling. This pattern continues through human history. We fail to protect those under our care. We not only fail to protect them from physical harm, but also… We also fail to protect them from spiritual deception. We’ve learned to rank our peace over their protection.

The Art of Doubt: When Good Desires Turn Destructive

The serpent’s strategy was remarkably sophisticated, and it targeted the ordering of Eve’s loves. He never directly contradicted God’s command.

 Instead, he did something far more insidious—he questioned God’s motives: “Did God really say…?” This wasn’t a direct challenge to God’s existence or authority. It was a subtle suggestion that God might not be entirely trustworthy, that perhaps Eve’s love for God was misplaced.

This wasn’t a challenge to God’s existence or even His authority. It was something far more subtle. It suggested that God is not entirely trustworthy. Eve’s love for God was misplaced. The serpent portrayed God as restrictive, not protective. It depicted Him as limiting human potential, not nurturing it.

The implication was devastating: God was withholding something good from them. In that moment, the serpent was teaching Eve to love her own potential more than God’s provision. It was also teaching her to desire autonomy more than a relationship. This wasn’t just about breaking a rule—it was about breaking the proper ordering of loves.

The Illusion of Autonomous Love

What makes this account particularly relevant today is its insight into how our loves become disordered. The serpent didn’t present Eve with a choice between good and evil. Instead, he offered her wisdom, enlightenment, and autonomy—all genuinely good things. By ‘autonomous wisdom’, we mean the desire to be independent and self-sufficient in our understanding. It often leads to decision-making at the expense of God’s guidance. ‘You will be like God, knowing good and evil.’ The temptation wasn’t to love evil. It was to love good things in the wrong order. She trusted her own judgment above God’s word.

This is the essence of disordered love. It is loving good things more than we love God. Or, it is loving them in ways that compete with our love for God. The fruit became desirable not because it was forbidden. It became desirable because it promised autonomous wisdom. This wisdom is the ability to determine good and evil for herself.

The Heart of Disordered Love

This reveals something profound about the nature of sin itself. As theologian Dennis F. Kinlaw observed, “The shift in commitment is never from Christ to evil; it is always from Christ to self.” Sin rarely appears as an apparent choice between right and wrong. Instead, it presents itself as reasonable self-interest, as loving ourselves appropriately, as taking control of our own destiny.

The real deception in the garden wasn’t convincing Eve to love something explicitly evil. It was persuading her that she could be her own god. It suggested that self-love could be supreme love. What began as the proper love of wisdom became the disordered love of autonomous wisdom. What started as appropriate self-regard became destructive self-centeredness.

This is how disordered loves always work: they take good desires and make them ultimate desires. They transform gifts into gods, turning blessings into burdens and loves into addictions. The potential for destruction is real and urgent.

Modern Echoes: The Same Disordered Pattern

This pattern of disordered love continues to resonate powerfully today. We still struggle with trusting God’s goodness, especially when His commands seem to restrict what we love. We still face the temptation to make our desires supreme rather than submitting them to His wisdom.

The most effective lies don’t present themselves as obvious falsehoods. They come wrapped in appeals to self-determination, personal truth, and autonomous wisdom. “Follow your heart,” we’re told. “You deserve this.” “Don’t let anyone else define your truth.” These modern mantras echo the serpent’s ancient whisper, encouraging us to love our own judgment more than God’s guidance.

Consider how this plays out in contemporary life:

• We love success more than faithfulness
• We love comfort more than calling
• We love being understood more than understanding others
• We love our rights more than our responsibilities
• We love our version of truth more than God’s revelation

None of these are inherently evil loves. They become problematic only when they become supreme loves. These are disordered loves that push God from the center of our affections.

The Path to Reordered Love

Understanding this pattern is crucial for spiritual discernment and the reordering of our loves. We often find that temptation comes disguised as appeals to love good things improperly. Recognizing this, we become better prepared to identify and resist it. We shouldn’t suppress our capacity for love. Instead, we should align our loves with God’s design rather than our limited perspective.

True freedom isn’t found in autonomous self-determination. It is found in loving God supremely. This love allows us to order all our other loves properly. When we love God first, we gain the freedom to love everything else in the right way. This includes loving ourselves to the right degree.

The Garden’s Continuing Lesson

The garden narrative isn’t just ancient history. It’s a mirror reflecting our own vulnerabilities today. It’s also about the ongoing battle for properly ordered loves.

It reminds us that the most dangerous deceptions don’t come announcing themselves as evil. They appear as wisdom. They seem like reasonable choices. They present invitations to love good things just a little bit more than we love God.

The story serves as both a warning and a guide. It warns us about the subtle nature of deception. It guides us toward true wisdom. This wisdom is found not in autonomous self-determination. It is found in trusting the God who truly has our best interests at heart. He alone can teach us to love rightly.

Today’s world constantly whispers, “Love yourself first.” This garden moment reminds us that the path to truly loving ourselves—and everything else—begins with loving God first. Only when our loves are properly ordered can we experience the freedom and flourishing that our hearts truly seek.