Dust and Breath: Genesis 2:4-17

This is the account of the heavens and the earth when they were created.

Now the story zooms in. Chapter one gave the cosmic view—the wide-angle lens of creation week. Chapter two gives the intimate portrait—God in the garden, shaping humanity with his own hands.

When the LORD God made the earth and the heavens, no shrub had yet appeared on the earth and no plant had yet sprung up, for the LORD God had not sent rain on the earth and there was no one to work the ground. But streams came up from the earth and watered the whole surface of the ground.

A world waiting. A garden needing a gardener.

Then the LORD God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.

Formed. The Hebrew word is what a potter uses when shaping clay—hands pressing, molding, crafting. God knelt in the dirt and shaped a human being from the earth itself. Adam, from adamah—the earthling from the earth.

Then the breath. God's own breath, blown into nostrils of clay, and suddenly—life. The dust became a living soul. The sculpture opened its eyes.

Now the LORD God had planted a garden in the east, in Eden; and there he put the man he had formed.

Eden. The word means delight. A garden of pleasure, planted by God himself, designed for human flourishing. Rivers flowed through it—the Pishon, the Gihon, the Tigris, the Euphrates—watering a paradise where gold and precious stones lay for the finding.

The LORD God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground—trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food.

Beauty and bounty together. Nothing merely functional. God made the world gorgeous because he delights in beauty, and he made humanity to delight in it too.

In the middle of the garden were the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

Two trees at the center. One offered life without end. One offered knowledge that would kill.

The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.

Work in paradise. Tending and keeping, cultivating and guarding. Even before the fall, humanity had purpose. Rest was holy, but so was labor.

And the LORD God commanded the man: "You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die."

One prohibition. One boundary. Every other tree was theirs—thousands of yeses surrounding a single no. Freedom defined by a limit. Love tested by a choice.

The garden was perfect. The warning was clear. The test was set.