We have all faced the challenge of letting go of our anger and resentment at one time or other. More often than we would like to think, these feelings remain unresolved and the level of anger increases and even becomes pervasive. Holding on to one’s anger and failing to forgive real or perceived betrayals of trust not only impact on relationships, but also on the character of the individuals involved.
Despite the fact that Adom and Chava fail miserably in abiding by the one and only prohibition commanded of them, they add salt to the wound by failing to acknowledge their part. Still, Hashem never gives up on them as forerunners of mankind. We come to understand that perhaps Adom and Chava’s placement in Gan Eden leaves them unprepared in their roles as supportive partners. Viewed from this perspective, their expulsion from Gan Eden is not intended as a punishment per se. Rather, it offers them a real-life classroom where God’s gifts are no longer handed to them on the proverbial “silver platter.” Instead, they are now required to provide for their own sustenance and are also exposed to the challenges of evil, pain, suffering, and loss.
Given these insights we can perhaps view the conclusion of this story from the lens of character development and relationship building. A deeper analysis of the nature of the sin reveals just how this plays out. Immediately following Adom’s succumbing to the temptation, Hashem approaches the couple and asks: “Ayekah? Where are you?” The Medrash Aggadah responds to the puzzlement of why Hashem, the “all knowing,” questions their location. He suggests that with this query Hashem offers Adom and Chavah the opportunity to acknowledge their sin, show remorse, and ask for forgiveness.
Perhaps Hashem senses their fear and the possible shame they feel in being caught in the act, and in the asking demonstrates a show of empathy by providing them with a “silent pause,” allowing them to calm down, tap into their emunah, and take ownership of their sin. The simple words: “We have sinned” or “Please forgive us for the anguish we have caused You,” may have been sufficient to keep them in Paradise, living “happily ever after.”
Instead, they defended themselves by projecting the blame onto others, even Hashem: “The woman whom You gave to be with me, she gave me the fruit and I ate it,” whined Adom. I believe that Hashem forgave them their fallibility, and therefore did not destroy the world and start over. Yet, He recognized their lack of spiritual readiness and the need to place them in an environment where their deficits could be repaired; not by handing them His gifts via the proverbial “silver spoon,” but by altering their lifestyle in a manner that would force their hands through toil, suffering, and even loss: “I will greatly increase suffering…in pain shall you bear children…through suffering you shall eat… all the days of your life…”
It was these experiences and the challenge of dealing with the forces of evil that were the “fix-it” tools used to redirect their focus from seeing themselves as the center of it all, to looking towards Hashem as their source and savior.
At the conclusion of this segment, immediately following the dire news Adom and Chava received regarding their new lifestyle, we find a seemingly misplaced pasuk: “The man called his wife’s name “…Chava because she had become the mother of all living things.” The commentators note that this pasuk should have been placed after the creation of Chava. Rashi, commenting on this puzzlement, explains this as an example of how events in the Torah are deliberately placed out of chronological order for the purposes of making a point. I would like to suggest that with this strange placement of events, the Torah is teaching us an important lesson in character development and relationship building; specifically, the importance of holding on to our love and trust and digging as deeply as we can in our hearts to forgive the human fallibilities of those we care about.
Indeed, had the Torah placed the naming of Chava immediately after her creation, it would have gone relatively unnoticed, as another happy event in their lives. Yet, when we read that Adom shows his appreciation, with this beautiful name, just at the point where he learns the negative implications of the very sin he blamed on Chava, we see the beginnings of forgiveness. I believe it is for this reason that the Torah places this pivotal event just where it belongs in order to inform us of the expectations Hashem has for mankind in the realm of appreciation, acceptance, and forgiveness. Yes, it’s easy to generate these feelings in the “best of times,” the “Gan Eden moments” of our lives.
But the true litmus test for successful and enduring relationships is to hold on to our appreciation of God and one another, even in the “worst of times,” when our faith is tested. It is specifically during the intense moments of strife, when feelings of disappointment, anger, and betrayal are aroused, that we must be especially mindful of the positive history we share, without denying our hurtful feelings. In doing so, it will be easier to soften our statements and even consider the perspective of the other, and that perhaps there is a good reason for their actions. If we can bring these positive elements into the dynamics of our interactions, we have a very good shot at working out even the most serious issues that come our way.
Renee Nussbaum, is a practicing psychoanalyst, with special training in Imago Relational Therapy. She can be reached at: doctorrenee nussbaum @gmail.com.
By Dr. Renee Nussbaum
