Becoming Homo Erectus: Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden

The bulk of Genesis is about the Israelite patriarchs (chs. 12–50), but the first eleven chapters deal with the origins of the world and what transpired in primeval times, with two stories about the creation of the human species. The first creation story (1:1–2:4a) is tersely worded, and has God creating the first couple of humans as the finishing touch of his work, after he had created the earth and all of the plants and animals in it:

^{בראשׁית א:כז} וַיִּבְרָא אֱלֹהִים אֶת הָאָדָם בְּצַלְמוֹ בְּצֶלֶם אֱלֹהִים בָּרָא אֹתוֹ זָכָר וּנְקֵבָה בָּרָא אֹתָם.

^{Gen 1:27} And God created man in His image, in the image of God He created him; male and female he created them.^[1]

Here, God creates man “in His image.” By contrast, in the second, more elaborate story, God says הָאָדָם הָיָה כְּאַחַד מִמֶּנּוּ, “the man has become like one of us” (3:22).^[2] It is a story of creation, but it deals at greater length with the development of the human species. The focus is not on how humans came about, but on how humans came of age. The story of Adam and Eve is a story of becoming.

The second creation story, which is the focus here, is interested in defining the characteristics of the human condition, using a narrative about the exile from the Garden of Eden—the primeval state of bliss and innocence that all humans are forced to leave behind as they grow up—to probe the distance that separates humans from animals, on the one hand, and from gods, on the other.

Animals and gods used to be our closest companions, and are, in some respects, very close to the human species, yet essentially dissimilar. But outside the garden that spell is broken.

Humans and Animals

When God decides he wants to take away Adam’s solitude by providing him with a fitting companion—an עֵזֶר כְּנֶגְדּוֹ, i.e., “a mate that will face him” (Gen 2:18)^[3]—he first creates the animals:

^{בראשׁית ב:יט} וַיִּצֶר יְ־הוָה אֱלֹהִים מִן הָאֲדָמָה כָּל חַיַּת הַשָּׂדֶה וְאֵת כָּל עוֹף הַשָּׁמַיִם וַיָּבֵא אֶל הָאָדָם לִרְאוֹת מַה יִּקְרָא לוֹ וְכֹל אֲשֶׁר יִקְרָא לוֹ הָאָדָם נֶפֶשׁ חַיָּה הוּא שְׁמוֹ.

^{Gen 2:19} And YHWH God formed out of the earth all the wild beasts and the birds of the sky, and brought them to the man to see what he would call them; and whatever the man called each living creature, that would be its name.

Adam and the animals are made from the same substance; they all have been taken “out of the earth”:

^{בראשׁית ב:ז} וַיִּיצֶר יְ־הוָה אֱלֹהִים אֶת הָאָדָם עָפָר מִן הָאֲדָמָה וַיִּפַּח בְּאַפָּיו נִשְׁמַת חַיִּים וַיְהִי הָאָדָם לְנֶפֶשׁ חַיָּה.

^{Gen 2:7} then YHWH God formed man (from) the dust out of the earth and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.^*

Adam gives all of the animals their name, but none of them qualifies as a real partner:

^{בראשׁית ב:כ} וַיִּקְרָא הָאָדָם שֵׁמוֹת לְכָל הַבְּהֵמָה וּלְעוֹף הַשָּׁמַיִם וּלְכֹל חַיַּת הַשָּׂדֶה וּלְאָדָם לֹא מָצָא עֵזֶר כְּנֶגְדּוֹ.

^{Gen 2:20} The man gave names to all cattle and to the birds of the air and to every animal of the field, but for the man there was not found a mate that will face him.

From one of Adam’s ribs, God then forms a woman. She is the right companion:

^{בראשׁית ב:כג} וַיֹּאמֶר הָאָדָם זֹאת הַפַּעַם עֶצֶם מֵעֲצָמַי וּבָשָׂר מִבְּשָׂרִי לְזֹאת יִקָּרֵא אִשָּׁה כִּי מֵאִישׁ לֻקֳחָה זֹּאת.

^{Gen 2:23} Then the man said, “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; this one shall be called Woman, for out of Man this one was taken.”

But the first pair’s proximity to the animals is still very close. They all speak the same language. Adam calls the animals by their name (2:20), and Eve converses with the serpent:

‏^{בראשׁית ג:א} ...וַיֹּאמֶר אֶל הָאִשָּׁה אַף כִּי אָמַר אֱלֹהִים לֹא תֹאכְלוּ מִכֹּל עֵץ הַגָּן. ^ג:ב וַתֹּאמֶר הָאִשָּׁה אֶל הַנָּחָשׁ מִפְּרִי עֵץ הַגָּן נֹאכֵל.

^{Gen 3:1b} He [the serpent] said to the woman, “Did God say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden’?” ^3:2 The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden.”

There is no need for an interpreter for they have an intuitive understanding of each other. Like animals, the first humans live without cover of clothes and are unaware of their nakedness:

^{בראשׁית ב:כה} וַיִּהְיוּ שְׁנֵיהֶם עֲרוּמִּים הָאָדָם וְאִשְׁתּוֹ וְלֹא יִתְבֹּשָׁשׁוּ.

^{Gen 2:25} And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed.

They partake of the same food as the animals—a strictly vegetarian diet:

^{בראשׁית ב:טז} וַיְצַו יְ־הוָה אֱלֹהִים עַל הָאָדָם לֵאמֹר מִכֹּל עֵץ הַגָּן אָכֹל תֹּאכֵל.

^{Gen 2:16} And YHWH God commanded the man, “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden.”

The first human beings are gatherers rather than hunters, for hunting would mean they treated some animals as prey rather than as companions.

Humans’ Transition to Adulthood

But events take a dramatic turn once Adam and Eve have eaten from the tree of knowledge of good and bad, for the serpent tells Eve:

^{בראשׁית ג:ה} כִּי יֹדֵעַ אֱלֹהִים כִּי בְּיוֹם אֲכָלְכֶם מִמֶּנּוּ וְנִפְקְחוּ עֵינֵיכֶם וִהְיִיתֶם כֵּאלֹהִים יֹדְעֵי טוֹב וָרָע.

^{Gen 3:5} “For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like divine beings who know good and bad.”

But what does it mean to have eaten from the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and bad? The first effect on Adam and Eve is the opening of their eyes:

^{בראשׁית ג:ז} וַתִּפָּקַחְנָה עֵינֵי שְׁנֵיהֶם וַיֵּדְעוּ כִּי עֵירֻמִּם הֵם וַיִּתְפְּרוּ עֲלֵה תְאֵנָה וַיַּעֲשׂוּ לָהֶם חֲגֹרֹת.

^{Gen 3:7} Then the eyes of both of them were opened and they perceived that they were naked; and they sewed together fig leaves and made themselves loincloths.

The momentous change that comes over them, then, is self-awareness, and its first manifestation is shame. They cover themselves not as a protection against the climate, but to hide their nakedness. This sets them apart from the animals, who have nothing but their skin for cover.

In the parlance of the Bible, not knowing good from bad is the mark of young children:

^{דברים א:לט} וְטַפְּכֶם אֲשֶׁר אֲמַרְתֶּם לָבַז יִהְיֶה וּבְנֵיכֶם אֲשֶׁר לֹא יָדְעוּ הַיּוֹם טוֹב וָרָע הֵמָּה יָבֹאוּ שָׁמָּה וְלָהֶם אֶתְּנֶנָּה וְהֵם יִירָשׁוּהָּ.

^{Deut 1:39} And as for your little ones who you thought would become plunder, your children who today do not yet know good from bad, they shall enter there; to them I will give it, and they shall take possession of it.^[4]

This refers to the ignorance of infants and toddlers, to which some men and women return when they reach old age:

^{שׁמואל ב יט:לו} בֶּן שְׁמֹנִים שָׁנָה אָנֹכִי הַיּוֹם הַאֵדַע בֵּין טוֹב לְרָע אִם יִטְעַם עַבְדְּךָ אֶת אֲשֶׁר אֹכַל וְאֶת אֲשֶׁר אֶשְׁתֶּה אִם אֶשְׁמַע עוֹד בְּקוֹל שָׁרִים וְשָׁרוֹת וְלָמָּה יִהְיֶה עַבְדְּךָ עוֹד לְמַשָּׂא אֶל אֲדֹנִי הַמֶּלֶךְ.

^{2 Sam 19:36} I am now eighty years old. Can I tell the difference between good and bad? Can your servant taste what he eats and drinks? Can I still listen to the singing of men and women? Why then should your servant continue to be a burden to my lord the king?

The knowledge which the fruit of the tree procures is not the revelation of a cosmic secret but the self-awareness and understanding that come with the transition from infancy and childhood to adolescence and adulthood.

Separation from the Animals

The effects of this transition on the humans’ relationship with the animals comes to the fore most explicitly in God’s curse against the serpent. He says:

‏^{בראשׁית ג:טו} וְאֵיבָה אָשִׁית בֵּינְךָ וּבֵין הָאִשָּׁה וּבֵין זַרְעֲךָ וּבֵין זַרְעָהּ הוּא יְשׁוּפְךָ רֹאשׁ וְאַתָּה תְּשׁוּפֶנּוּ עָקֵב.

^{Gen 3:15} “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers. They will bruise your head, and you will bruise their heel.”^[5]

From conversation partners, the woman and the snake have become enemies. Their offspring will do each other mutual harm, with effects more deadly for the snake than for the woman’s offspring.

The distinct points of attack mentioned in the curse have a significant bearing upon the understanding of the passage. If humans bruise the head of snakes, and snakes bite humans in the heel, it means that snakes move level with the ground (they crawl on their belly), whereas humans move around in an erect position, on two legs rather than crawling on all fours. Snake and woman are representatives:, the one of the animal and the other of the human species. The chasm that comes to separate them is tangible in their different mode of locomotion.

Another indication of the new divide between humans and animals is the fact that God replaces the coverings of fig leaves that Adam and Eve had made for themselves (3:7) with “garments of skins”:

^{בראשׁית ג:כא} וַיַּעַשׂ יְ־הוָה אֱלֹהִים לְאָדָם וּלְאִשְׁתּוֹ כָּתְנוֹת עוֹר וַיַּלְבִּשֵׁם.

^{Gen 3:21} And YHWH God made garments of skins for the man and for his wife and clothed them.

Animals are no longer companions, but commodities: They become items on the menu and providers of useful raw materials such as wool and hide.

The Gilgamesh Epic

The author of the Garden of Eden narrative is unknown, but the story is certainly a product of scribal circles, written by people who were familiar with the classics of the cuneiform culture of their time.^[6] Indeed, the story shares some remarkable affinities with the Gilgamesh epic, a Mesopotamian epic poem that circulated in different versions and dialects for more than a millennium, beginning in the late 3rd millennium B.C.E.^[7]

The Standard Babylonian version of the epic tells the story of Gilgamesh and his friend Enkidu, their heroic exploits, the death of Enkidu, and Gilgamesh’s desperate search for a remedy against death.

Just as Adam is fashioned from earth, so Enkidu is fashioned from “clay” (ṭiṭṭu):

^{Gilgamesh I.101–104} Aruru [the mother goddess] washed her hands,
She took a pinch of clay, she threw it down in the wild.
In the wild she created Enkidu, the hero,
An offspring of silence, knit strong by Ninurta.^[8]

Enkidu’s original habitat is the wild (the “steppe,” ṣēru), where he lives as a naked savage^[9] in the company of animals:

^{Gilgamesh I.105–112} All his body is matted with hair,
He bears long tresses like those of a woman:
The hair of his head grows thickly as barley.
He has no family or even a country.
Coated in hair like the animals,
With the gazelles he grazes on grasses,
Joining the throng with the game at the water-hole,
His heart delighting with the beasts in the water.

A hunter spots the savage and takes fright. At the advice of his father, he reports his encounter with Enkidu to Gilgamesh, king of Uruk. Gilgamesh determines that the hunter should go back to the place where he first saw Enkidu, this time in the company of Shamhat the prostitute. It will be up to her to tame this child of nature.

Her charms prove irresistible. For six days and seven nights, Enkidu and Shamhat have sex. When the week is over, Enkidu has become a different man. He has entered the world of humans. The animals turn their back on him and run away:

^{Gilgamesh I.195–198} Once he had enjoyed her charms to the full,
He turned his gaze to his wild herd.
When they saw Enkidu, the gazelles scattered,
The wild animals shied away from his presence.^[10]

Enkidu is no longer their natural companion but finds himself on the side of the hunter. The savage gets rid of his excessive body hair and cleans himself:

^{Gilgamesh I.199} Enkidu stripped himself, cleansed his body.^[11]

According to an Old Babylonian version of the epic, Shamhat covers him with part of her own garment:

^{Gilgamesh, OB Penn ll. 69–72} She stripped off her clothing,
Dressed him in one part,
The other part,
She put on herself.^[12]

In the civilized world, people wear clothes. A more significant change, though, has affected his bodily posture. Whereas he used to move about on all fours, his knees now have stretched:

^{Gilgamesh I.200–202} His knees, on which he had crawled with the herd, stretched themselves.^[13] Enkidu had become weak, his running was not like before
But he himself had grown tall, [with] broad understanding.^[14]

He has become “tall in stature,”^[15] for he now stands and walks on his two legs—no longer as fast as the animals: He has become a homo erectus.

Moreover, Enkidu has acquired “broad understanding,” just as Adam and Eve became “knowing” and—perhaps—“wise.”^[16] The understanding here has no connection with some privileged knowledge inaccessible to ordinary people. On the contrary, it refers to mere common sense. Like Adam and Eve, Enkidu has reached the age of reason. Both stories imagine the evolution of the human species on the model of the development from toddler to adolescent.

In its infancy, humankind was naked, unashamed, crouching rather than walking, at one with nature and the animals, following instinct rather than reason. As adolescents, they have put an end to childish ways. They walk, talk, dress, and think. The myth condenses the gradual evolution from infant to adult into an instantaneous transformation triggered by sexual initiation (Enkidu) or eating from the tree of knowledge of good and bad (Adam and Eve).

Is it possible that eating from the tree has to do with sex? Is it a metaphor of sexual initiation? Nothing in the story says so explicitly, but the sudden sense of shame shows that Adam and Eve have at least become aware of their gendered difference. They have discovered each other as potential sexual partners (cf. Gen 4:1). Indeed, the midrash also sees a sexual connotation in the story:

^{בראשית רבה יח:ו} וְהַנָּחָשׁ הָיָה עָרוּם (בראשית ג:א) לֹא הָיָה צָרִיךְ קְרָא לוֹמַר אֶלָּא (בראשית ג:כא): וַיַּעַשׂ ה' אֱלֹהִים לְאָדָם וּלְאִשְׁתּוֹ וגומר, אָמַר רַבִּי יְהוֹשֻׁעַ בֶּן קָרְחָה לְהוֹדִיעֲךָ מֵאֵי זוֹ חַטָּיָה קָפַץ עֲלֵיהֶם אוֹתוֹ הָרָשָׁע, מִתּוֹךְ שֶׁרָאָה אוֹתָן מִתְעַסְּקִין בְּדֶרֶךְ אֶרֶץ וְנִתְאַוָּה לָהּ.

^{Gen. Rab. 18:6} “The serpent was…cunning” – the verse [after this one] should have said only: “The Lord God made for Adam and for his wife [garments]… (Gen 3:21)” Rabbi Yehoshua ben Korḥa said: It is to inform you what misdeed prompted that evil one [the serpent] to assail them. It is because it saw them engaging in the way of nature [i.e., intercourse], and it lusted for her.^[17]

In the minds of the authors of these stories, the discovery of sex is a crucial point of transition in the lives of human beings. It opens the door to adulthood. This is sex as initiation, not as procreation. There is no childbirth in the Garden of Eden, and Shamhat is a prostitute, not a wife.

Humans and Gods

The other dimension of the Garden of Eden story concerns the relation between humans and gods. The serpent entices the woman to eat from the fruit by saying that she and her man will become “like divine beings,” i.e., gods:

^{בראשׁית ג:ה} כִּי יֹדֵעַ אֱלֹהִים כִּי בְּיוֹם אֲכָלְכֶם מִמֶּנּוּ וְנִפְקְחוּ עֵינֵיכֶם וִהְיִיתֶם כֵּאלֹהִים יֹדְעֵי טוֹב וָרָע.

^{Gen 3:5} For God knows that as soon as you eat of it your eyes will be opened and you will be like divine beings who know good and bad.

It is the truth. Their eyes are opened (Gen 3:7), and they do become like gods in some sense, as is clear from the conclusion of the story:

‏^{בראשׁית ג:כב} וַיֹּאמֶר יְ־הוָה אֱלֹהִים הֵן הָאָדָם הָיָה כְּאַחַד מִמֶּנּוּ לָדַעַת טוֹב וָרָע וְעַתָּה פֶּן יִשְׁלַח יָדוֹ וְלָקַח גַּם מֵעֵץ הַחַיִּים וְאָכַל וָחַי לְעֹלָם.

^{Gen 3:22} And YHWH God said, “Now that the man has become like one of us, knowing good and bad, what if he should stretch out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever!”

The motif of likeness to gods also occurs in the Enkidu episode. In the eyes of the prostitute, Enkidu’s transformation has made him look like a god:

^{Gilgamesh I.207} “You are handsome, Enkidu, you are just like a god.”^[18]

To Shamhat, the handsomeness of Enkidu resides more especially in his stature: he is “tall in stature” (Gilgamesh II.41). Enkidu has let go of his animal ways, and moves about erect, head held high and two feet on the ground.

The Genesis story hints at a similar transformation, by contrasting the shuffling of the serpent with the upright posture of humans (Gen 3:15). It is homo erectus who is “like gods.”^[19] But although human beings might be “like gods,” their mortality puts them definitely outside the pale of divinity. The sanction on eating the prohibited fruit is death. God had forewarned Adam:

^{בראשׁית ב:יז} וּמֵעֵץ הַדַּעַת טוֹב וָרָע לֹא תֹאכַל מִמֶּנּוּ כִּי בְּיוֹם אֲכָלְךָ מִמֶּנּוּ מוֹת תָּמוּת.

^{Gen 2:17} “But of the tree of the knowledge of good and bad you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.”^[20]

The ingestion of the fruit does not cause sudden death. In fact, as long as man and woman are still in the garden, the tree of life is within reach, its fruit a source of eternal rejuvenation.^[21] To prevent the humans from eating that fruit, however, God banishes them from the garden (3:23),^[22] where He has told them that death will become the grim destiny of every human being:

^{בראשׁית ג:יט} ...כִּי עָפָר אַתָּה וְאֶל עָפָר תָּשׁוּב.

^{Gen 3:19b} For dust you are, and to dust you shall return.

For Enkidu, too, death proves to be part of the package. Faced with his own mortality, he curses the hunter and the prostitute for introducing him to civilized life and making him weak (Gilgamesh VII.90–131). But for him, the era of innocence and animal instincts is forever gone. Just so for Adam and Eve and the rest of us: there is no return to paradise. Cherubim with flaming swords guard its entry (Gen 3:24). No one is allowed back in, lest they eat from the tree of life and become immortal (3:22).

Wisdom Garbed as Myth

So what kind of story is this tale about the Garden of Eden? A theological meditation on sin and sanction? An ancient Middle Eastern myth on the origins of the human species? A fairy tale with a bad ending? In view of the easy interaction between humans, animals, and God, the text moves in a mythological mood. The astonishing parallels with the Enkidu narrative point to the same conclusion. But in the end, this is wisdom in the garb of myth.

In the scribal culture of Mesopotamia, the epic of Gilgamesh was classified as wisdom literature.^[23] As such, an Assyrian catalogue of texts and authors lists it alongside other well-known sapiential texts.^[24] Likewise, the Garden of Eden story is Israelite wisdom—the wisdom of people who understand that human life is full of pain and hardship, but also of great beauty and moments of dazzling happiness.

In order to experience it to the full, we had to leave the Garden. But it is like growing up. At some point you realize that infancy and childhood are behind you; the magical world of youthful innocence has vanished. But who wants to go back? Except for a fleeting moment of nostalgia, we know that nothing matches the life of sorrow and joy in the real world. Even though it must end—or precisely because of that—it is worth living to the full.^[25]

As the tavern-keeper whom Gilgamesh meets near the end of his journey tells him: death is our destiny, but in the meantime there is much to be enjoyed, especially the companionship of a partner and the sweetness of children holding your hand (Old Babylonian Sippar tablet III.1–15). Ecclesiastes couldn’t agree more:

^{קהלת ט:ט} רְאֵה חַיִּים עִם אִשָּׁה אֲשֶׁר אָהַבְתָּ כָּל יְמֵי חַיֵּי הֶבְלֶךָ אֲשֶׁר נָתַן לְךָ תַּחַת הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ כֹּל יְמֵי הֶבְלֶךָ כִּי הוּא חֶלְקְךָ בַּחַיִּים וּבַעֲמָלְךָ אֲשֶׁר אַתָּה עָמֵל תַּחַת הַשָּׁמֶשׁ.

^{Eccl 9:9} Enjoy life with the wife whom you love all the days of your vain life that are given you under the sun, because that is your portion in life and in your toil at which you toil under the sun.^[26]