• Death and Dying,  Dust,  Scholarship,  Scripture

    Creation, Fall, and Dust-made Man: Part 2

    Part of my thesis focused on the creation of man from dust, and the curse that Adam and Eve received when they sinned—the promise that they would return to dust. I’m sharing adapted pieces of that study here with you in a two part series, Part 1 focuses on Creation, and Part 2 on the Fall. I don’t think I’m saying much that’s new here—at least I hope not. Church fathers and modern commentators alike all have similar things to say. But hopefully I can present it in a way that’s new to some of you, as a helpful reminder of our relationship to our Creator.

    St. John Chrysostom stated that living as dust under the care of a Creator God ought to cause a sort of awe and child-like affection for the one who creates and provides care for one so lowly.[1]But almost from the very first, this is not what we see in Adam and Eve. Rather than relating to their Creator in a joyful, awe-filled way, the interaction we see between the first humans and God is marked by shame.

    Shame is a perversion of humility. The difference between humility and shame could be described as fear. Whereas humility could be defined as a measured, even joyful, acceptance of one’s own lowly station, shame is that same acknowledgement laced with a feeling that one’s lowliness is a failure, or a falling short—something that others would point out or recognize as reprehensible or embarrassing. Being ashamed, then, seems to be closely tied to a feeling of fear. Do you see this in the creation account?

    Adam and Eve were “naked and were not ashamed” when they were created.[2] However, when they sinned after the serpent’s deception, they “knew that they were naked” and made clothes of fig leaves.[3] Their reaction, when they heard God in the garden, was not, like we see with children, a fear that cause them to run to the authority figure they trust most. Instead, they became afraid and hid. The pairing here between “naked and not ashamed” and “afraid” hints that they were now ashamed of their nakedness.[4] Many early commentators propose that their sin was pride.[5]

    Perhaps, in becoming puffed up in pride (which is, of course, the opposite of humility), they became ashamed of their body of dust. Since their first action, at least that we’re told about, was to create clothes for themselves, it seems likely that their perception of their body was significantly changed in the Fall. These feelings of fear and shame related to their body seem to indicate that they no longer felt the closeness for which they had been created. If their bodies of dust were to have made them joyfully humble before their creator, their provider, they now became a source of fear and embarrassment before him because they wanted to be like him and were very aware of and dissatisfied with their lowly frame. They did not run to God in their sin but ran away. Shame, then, is a manifestation of a faulty, or at least incomplete understanding of what it means to be made of dust. The result was the loss of intimacy with one’s creator, and exile.

    I think this is interesting for a lot of reasons. One reason it’s interesting personally is because I previously would not have connected body image this directly to what we’re told of Adam and Eve’s fall into sin.

    Secondarily, it’s interesting because it makes so much sense why now, in our western culture, body image is such a struggle for so many of us. We’ve made our bodies of dust an idol, and when they fall short of the godlikeness we’ve assigned to them, it’s a big flashing neon sign in the mirror screaming, “YOU ARE MADE OF DUST!” And, for many of us, we, like Adam and Eve, do not run to God in joyful, childlike humility. Instead, we fashion ourselves modern fig-leave garments with make-up and designer labels and Instagram filters to fool ourselves and those around us. We live in fear that the fig leaves might just slip and reveal our dust-made frames.

    But as we see throughout the rest of Adam and Eve’s stories, and the rest of scripture, it is only through finding refuge in the cleft of Rock that our dust is secured, made fast, and built up into something beautiful. If those of us who are made of dust do not find refuge here in our Creator and Sustainer, we will find, like Adam and Eve, that our Creator God is not just their Creator and Sustainer, but also the Scatterer. 

    There is much more we could say about this. Does this connection between the body and the Fall trigger any more connections for you? I’d love to hear about them!


    This is clearly not the end. God is the Scatterer, but he loves his creation and longs to live with us in harmony—we can clearly see that in his intentions for Adam and Eve. Psalm 103:13–14 is a helpful reminder:

    “As a father shows compassion to his children,
    so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him.
    For he knows our frame;
    he remembers that we are dust.
    Ps 103:13–14


    [1]Chrysostom, Homily 17 in Homilies on Genesis, 245

    [2]Gen 2:25

    [3]Gen 3:7

    [4]Gen 3:10

    [5]See Chrysostom, Homily 16 in Homilies on Genesis, 214; Augustine, “On Nature and Grace” in Four Anti-Pelagian Writings, trans. John A. Mourant and William J. Collinge in vol 86 of Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: Old Testament, ed. Thomas C. Oden (Downers Grove, Illinois: Intervarsity Press, 2001), 47.

  • Death and Dying,  Scholarship,  Scripture

    Creation, Fall, and Dust-made Man: Part 1

    Part of my thesis focused on the creation of man from dust, and the curse that Adam and Eve received when they sinned—the promise that they would return to dust. I’m sharing adapted pieces of that study here with you in a two part series, Part 1 focuses on Creation, and Part 2 on the Fall. I don’t think I’m saying much that’s new here—at least I hope not. Church fathers and modern commentators alike all have similar things to say. But hopefully I can present it in a way that’s new to some of you, as a helpful reminder of our relationship to our Creator.

    Most of us who have been raised in church are familiar with God’s role in the beginning of the world as we know it: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.”[1] In Genesis 1, the author (commonly thought to be Moses) uses repetitive sentences to tell how the world came to be. The phrase “Let there be…” is repeated on nearly every day of creation, with breaks in the pattern coming only when God is adding a new creation to something already created (i.e. “let the waters swarm with swarms of living creatures”).[2]

    The pattern only breaks altogether with the creation of man in Genesis 1:26. Instead of “Let there be,” the author says “Let us make.” In the Genesis 2, more poetic telling, the creation of man is even more distinct from the rest of creation. Here, all that is said about the creation of the heavens and the earth is that “they were created.” But we are told of man that “the LORD God formed the man of dust, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and [he] became a living creature.”[3] 

    Instead of simply being created with a mere word, God “forms” man. This is remarkably intimate, compared to the rest of the created order. And while his intimacy with God through his formation shows man’s dignity and stature, his origin was of the dust. This seems to be the model for right relation to God. God made a fundamental humility implicit in man’s design, and yet he is imbued with dignity by the care of and nearness to his Creator. This, then, seems to be the balance that man seems to be meant to hold in his regard for his body. The disruption of this balance seems to have occurred at the Fall, which caused a break in the relationship between God and Man. Fittingly, then, Adam and Eve were promised a return to dust: Adam, particularly, because he was formed from it.[4]

    Genesis 2 gives a more detailed explanation of the dust that made Adam a basically humble creature. He was created outside of the garden, in a place that seems to have been barren. The passage states, “when no bush of the field was yet in the land and no small plant of the field had yet sprung up…then the LORD God formed the man of dust from the ground.”[5]The author of Genesis gives two reasons for the absence of plant growth in this region. First, the ground had not yet been rained on. Second, “there was no man to work the ground.”[6]By this description, the land seems to be lacking both the natural qualities needed to grow plants, and the secondary requirement of someone to tend the land. It was infertile and of no use. The dust that man was formed from, then, was worthless.

    The author of Genesis seems to go out of his way to make sure his audience understood that it is God who was withholding fertility from this land, solidifying the contrast between creation and creator. It was not simply that it had not yet rained, but that God himself “had not caused it to rain on the land.”[7]The second reason given for its infertility was also because of God’s inaction. As the creator, God is the responsible party when it comes to things existing or not existing in every place and time. And here, there was no man to work the ground. Why? Because God has not created one. This is an example of God’s control over life and death—there is no life where God does not act. 

    Additionally, we see in the creation account of Genesis 2 that even when God created man out of barren soil, he did not intend for him to work that ground, but to tend the ground in Eden: “And the LORD God planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and there he put the man whom he had formed. And out of the ground the LORD God made to spring up every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food.”[8]Yahweh placed man in a garden full of everything he would need, including, eventually, companionship. It was there, in the place that God had provided for Adam and Eve, that he was to tend and keep the land. God’s care for man indicates that even though he was made of dust, he related to God in a uniquely intimate way among the rest of creation. 

    Remarkable, isn’t it? Made of dust, formed in the image of God. What a beautiful tension we hold in our bodies. But it’s easy to see how Adam and Eve fell, isn’t it? It’s not an easy balance to maintain—we either puff ourselves up and inflate our value, or we beat ourselves down and let the “dust” of our nature take precedence without recalling the dignity given to us by our Creator.

    In Part 2 we can talk more about this, and what role I think this tension may have played in the Fall.


    [1]Gen 1:1

    [2]Gen 1:20

    [3]Gen 2:7

    [4]Gen 3:19

    [5]Gen 2:5–7

    [6]Gen 2:5

    [7]Gen 2:5

    [8]Gen 2:8–9a