In the beginning God created man in His own image. Then the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature.
And the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and there he put the man whom he had formed. The tree of life was in the midst of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.
The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it and said, “You may surely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die.”
Then the Lord God said, “It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him.”
So, the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and while he slept took one of his ribs and made into a woman and brought her to the man. Then the man said,
This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man.
Therefore, a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh. And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed. (Gen. 2:5-9,15-18,21-25)
Naked and Unashamed
Adam and Eve naked without shame. Startling, isn’t it?
Can you imagine meeting someone for the first time standing entirely unclothed and not feeling at least self-conscious about it, if not royally embarrassed?
Think about it, what if you walked into the living room of your own home, right now, and stripped butt naked. I don’t mean to be unnecessarily provocative. I mean to make the point that if a person, today, wants to feel the depth of his own vulnerability and shame, all he has to do is unclothe himself in the context of his own family.
Yet, there stood Adam and Eve having barely met—naked with no shame.
Enter Shame
Now the serpent was more crafty than any other beast of the field that the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God actually say, ‘You shall not eat of any tree in the garden’?”
And the woman said to the serpent, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden, but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the midst of the garden, neither shall you touch it, lest you die.’”
But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”
So, when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked. And they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths. (Gen. 3:1-7)
A Perfect Relationship with God
I think Moses points out Adam and Eve being naked and unashamed in the Garden because man is designed to receive his value, his sense of self-worth and purpose, his feelings of delight and importance all from God.
In the Garden, Adam and Eve’s relationship with God was so strong they felt no shame, no insecurity or need to cover up or hide anything. They were enraptured with God, completely unaware of their vulnerabilities.
Adam and Eve were naked and unashamed because they found everything they needed for personal security and meaning in their perfect relationship with God.
But when that relationship was broken they lost it all.
No longer were they captivated by the glory and security of God. They began looking to each other for security and realized their vulnerabilities, their differences, their isolation. In the context of the two of them, they knew they needed something for protection, to give them what God had been giving them all along.
So, they grabbed what was closest, what seemed good enough to help them feel secure—fig leaves.
Fig Leaves
All throughout history, mankind grabs “fig leaves” to cover himself and make himself feel safe. A “fig leaf” can be essentially anything we use to hide our vulnerabilities, to make us feel safe by masking who we really are. Only, God did not create fig leaves to be our clothing. Wearing “fig leaves” breaks us from God’s design.
Therefore, as long as we wear “fig leaves,” we cannot experience close relationship with Him. Every time we pull “fig leaves” over ourselves, we do so because we feel a distance or vulnerability in our identity, an identity that was perfectly secure back in Eden.
Take King Saul, for instance.
An Insecure Saul
If you remember, Saul first met Samuel while he was out with one of his father’s helpers searching for lost donkeys. Samuel had been having this conversation with God. The people wanted a King, even though it was not God’s will for them to have a King. Israel wanted to feel secure in having a ruler, even if that ruler would build a military force and oppress the people, themselves, as Samuel had warned (1Sam. 8:10-18).
But they didn’t care about all that.
So, in His great mercy, God consented to letting them have a King. And when Saul walked up with his helper to greet Samuel and ask about where the seer might be, God told Samuel this young man is the King for Israel (1Sam. 9:17).
As Saul and Samuel were talking about the lost donkeys, Samuel said, “For whom is all that is desirable in Israel? Is it not for you and for all your father’s house?”
Saul was kind of startled by such a statement. “Am I not a Benjaminite, from the least of the tribes of Israel? And is not my clan the humblest of all the clans of the tribe of Benjamin? Why then have you spoken to me in this way?” (1Sam. 9:15-21)
Saul was tall and handsome—a spectacular specimen, for sure. But he came from the lowliest clan in all of Israel.
Never in his dreams did he expect to be favored, much less made King.
Samuel anointed Saul king and told him God had made him prince over Israel, that he shall reign over the people of the Lord and save them from the hand of their surrounding enemies (1Sam. 9:27-10:2).
Furthermore, Samuel said that Saul will prophesy on his way home. Sure enough, as Saul left Samuel, God gave him a new heart. And while he was heading home, he met a group of prophets coming down form the high place, and the Spirit of the Lord rushed upon him and he prophesied with them. Everyone around who knew him stood in amazement, “What has come over the son of Kish? Is Saul also among the prophets?” (1Sam. 10:9-13)
Can you imagine being from the lowest of society, minding your own business, when all of a sudden, you’re anointed King and told you will rule over everyone? Furthermore, you begin to prophesy and everyone stands in awe of you.
Saul was still a young man, just entering the prime of his life. While he no doubt felt exhilarated, he probably also felt incredibly unworthy and incompetent. Being boss over everyone and having the favor of God on his life could fix that, right?
Surely, being King would make him feel secure.
I imagine this because I can identify with Saul. At eighteen years of age, my aunt looked in my eyes and told me she appreciates my writing. “God has His hand on you,” she said, “and He is going to do something great in the church through you.”
Nobody had ever acknowledged me in that way before. I remember her blessing awakened inside of me something that felt really good. For the first time, that I can remember, I felt competent. I mean, I’m athletic and good at sports, but this was something that seemed more noble, more purposeful, more worth spending my life doing. It felt satisfying to imagine myself adding value to others through writing.
For all of my life, other people have been smarter. Others have more money, more flashy personalities that attract people, more picture-perfect lives and adventures to share. To be honest, I have always felt rather ordinary, comparatively insignificant to the world at large.
And while I think, quite frankly, all of us are ordinary, I believe we have also all had those random encounters that awaken in us the hope of being something more because someone finally saw value in us.
And this value offers to give us identity, a sense of self-worth and purpose.
Saul was no different than you and me.
In fact, when Samuel gathered the people together to crown their new king, Saul was nowhere in sight. After looking around, and coming up empty, they asked the Lord whether there is still another man to come. But the Lord said, “Behold, (Saul) has hidden himself among the baggage.”
So, they ran and took him from there, and when he stood among the people he was taller than any of them. He stood head and shoulders above everyone and impressed them all, but he still felt insecure enough to hide. Samuel said, “Here is the one the Lord has chosen to be your king,” and all the people shouted, “Long live the king!” (1Sam. 10:20-24)
Saul had such low self-confidence that when it came time to crown him king, he ran and hid himself.
Perhaps he was afraid people wouldn’t accept him. After all, there were a few who would baulk at his crowning and not bring any present for him. Maybe he was afraid of them.
Whatever the case, he did not see in himself the value Samuel had previously called out. He did not believe people would follow him as their leader. So, he hid, perhaps waiting to see if they would want him enough to come looking for him. And when they did come looking, he could finally believe they liked him, and that he could be their king.
Being crowned king made him feel significant, and for the first time in his life, he felt deep in his heart he had a reason to live.
For a while Saul reigned magnificently. Samuel’s prophecy came true: he saved Israel from their enemies. Overall, he united the tribes and defeated the Ammonites, Philistines, Moabites, and Amalekites.
But something happened that caused God to remove His favor from Saul. Something, in fact, that separated Saul from God for the rest of his life.
Saul began wearing fig leaves.
After two years as King, and several successful battles under his belt, Saul started relying more on his army.
Proud and on top of his world, Saul gathered all of Israel to celebrate defeating the Philistines. Saul felt increasingly confident, like he truly had what it took to be king. So, he called everyone to join him in Gilgal for a party.
What he didn’t realize, however, was that the Philistines were planning revenge at the same time. They mustered thirty thousand chariots and six thousand horsemen and troops, “like the sand on the seashore in multitude,” to come against Saul and his (puny) entourage.
Horror struck the men of Israel when they saw they were surrounded by Philistines, and they began scattering for safety. Saul didn’t know what to do, so he waited in Gilgal seven days, the time appointed by Samuel.
But when Samuel didn’t come, he decided to sacrifice the burnt offering himself. (1Sam. 13:1-9)
God, through Samuel, had specifically commanded Saul to wait seven days whenever he goes to make an offering at Gilgal. Then Samuel would come and sacrifice burnt offerings and special offerings and tell him what he was to do (1Sam. 10:8).
Only, this time, Saul didn’t wait.
He couldn’t wait.
When Samuel finally came (right after Saul offered the sacrifice) and asked, “What have you done?” Saul told Samuel, “When I saw that the people were scattering from me, and that you did not come within the days appointed, and that the Philistines had mustered at Michmash, I said, ‘Now the Philistines will come down against me at Gilgal, and I have not sought the favor of the Lord.’ So, I forced myself, and offered the burnt offering.” (1Sam. 13:11-12)
Sounds pretty desperate, huh?
A gigantic army is pressing in on his nation, and the priest isn’t showing up to invoke the blessing of the Lord, to seek His protection and favor. It makes perfect sense, then, that Saul would “force himself” to offer the sacrifice in Samuel’s place, not?
But is that really what went on here? Was Saul actually wanting God to work? Or was it that he was afraid of losing everything that made him feel significant and secure?
Remember, this is the man who hid himself at his coronation. Having everyone looking for him, and then chanting “Long live the King!” made up for the insignificance he felt as someone from the lowest clan of the lowest tribe in all of Israel, right?
Could it be that Saul actually wasn’t concerned about God showing up? Rather, he simply did not want to lose the attention and confidence of the people. He knew he needed God’s power, but he also knew God needed to show up fast or everyone would scatter. So, instead of waiting on God and trusting in His design, Saul took matters into his own hands.
His authority and influence as King had become his “fig leaves.”
He needed to keep everyone happy with him or else he lost his sense of security and identity. He lost his reason to live.
Fig Leaves in My Own Life
As I look back on my life, I see countless instances where I’ve clung to things I could see and control to give me a sense of identity. If I’m honest, I still find myself doing that. Shame is a powerful feeling and pulling fig leaves over ourselves is a habit hard to break.
Things like my aunt calling out my writing skills developed a sense of identity for me and I began leaning into them for security. So much so, that at one point I clearly felt I could not let them go. It wasn’t that I thought about it consciously, but that whenever someone else was praised for their skills in the same area, I felt a tinge of jealousy inside me.
It rattled my sense of security, self-worth, and value.
Everyone Wears Fig Leaves at Some Point
You may think I’m being a little melodramatic about our feelings, that we need to just get over it and learn to worry less about ourselves and how we feel. But how is that actually working?
In my experience, no one just “gets over it.” Ever. Some ignore it, but they aren’t actually “getting over it.” Instead, they fail to see the ways they are using temporary things to prop them up. Not only can failing to see their “fig leaves” hurt their close friends and family; in the long run, it hurts them.
Since Eden, man has been searching for something to give him protection, life, purpose, self-worth, security. And ever since Eden, man has looked to things he can see and control to give him that security. Only, it never lasts. It never meets what he’s really after.
A Place to Belong, Sense Value, and Feel Competent
And what are we after? Why are we so driven to have a sense of purpose and competence?
When I think of manhood—what it means to be a son, a man of valor, and a father—I think of God’s relationship with Jesus, the perfect father-son relationship. A complete image of masculinity.
In Mark 1:11, Jesus has just been baptized by John the Baptist. A dove descends onto Jesus’ shoulder and a voice from heaven says, “This is my beloved Son; with whom I am well pleased.” In one short sentence, the Father communicated to His Son that He belongs (“my…Son”), has value (“beloved Son”), and is competent (“I am well pleased”).
Everyone, to a certain degree, is looking for a place to belong, a sense of self-worth, and confidence in his ability to do something well.
And I believe Adam and Eve experienced that perfectly in the Garden of Eden. But they lost their perfect sense of security because they believed the lie suggesting God didn’t have their best in mind, that He was holding out on them. They grabbed fig leaves to cover their shame, and in the same way, we grab a sort of fig leaf to prevent others from seeing us for who we really are.
But if you remember, fig leaves weren’t enough to properly clothe Adam and Eve. Fig leaves are worthless in restoring perfect security in God. Something had to die if they were going to ever be restored to that place of security again.
Here after they directly ignored His warning, at the very beginning of human existence, God showed His mercy, His grace. He gave them a sign of His plan to redeem the mess they had just created: He clothed them in skins from a lamb. The lamb died, instead of them.
Already, here in Genesis, God whispers the hope of Jesus.
Adam and Eve would have to leave the Garden, totally separated from God. But they left wearing a foreshadow of the Lamb to come.
The Lamb who would one day make a way for all of humanity to experience again the deep, inner security and worthiness of their Creator—just as it was in Eden.
Can you identify fig leaves in your own life? Do you see how this pattern of trying to cover our shame comes down through the history of man? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
