It must have been about one month into the first semester of my first year of seminary studies when in Intro to the Hebrew Scriptures - the Old Testament - I made what I knew was an astute if not breathtaking discovery and realization: Adam and Eve, in the Garden of Eden story of Genesis 3, were framed! Yes, it was a setup, a no win situation, a "Catch-22," they were cursed if they did, cursed if they didn't. Here is the way I figured it:

We all knew that the traditional garden myth was simply a Hebrew metaphor for human freedom and specifically these two aspects of freedom: first, why human freedom must include existential misery; and second, why we often do the wrong thing, that is why we sin.

So here's how it went: If Adam and Eve obeyed God and didn't eat from the tree, then they had no free will, then they weren't made in God's image at all, as is stated just a chapter earlier. But if they eat, which they did, then while showing free will they also disobey and must suffer the consequences. In other words, free will - the ability to make choices, to make decisions, for right or wrong - is not always as wonderful as we've been told. Sometimes we make the wrong choices and pay the consequences, and then sometimes we make the right choices and we still suffer the consequences.

Which was my whole point - no matter what Adam and Eve did it would appear to be "wrong." So don't you see now, they were set up, set up to fail because of course God wanted them to eat the fruit, eat and be free! Anything else would have been such a disappointment to the Creator. God wanted them to disobey! And so, I couldn't wait until my Monday class, to raise my hand and share my well-thought-through and convincingly heretical scenario with my class and instructor. My opportunity came and I spilled my version of the story. And as I ended, my instructor asked which of the books I had read, Tillich or Cox. What - what did she mean? What she meant was that both Paul Tillich and Harvey Cox had made similar arguments and which of these versions had I read and agreed with. Of course, I had read neither, and of course, as I found out later, Tillich and Cox weren't the only ones because before these mid-20^th century theology giants there had been others, many others, who had made if not the exact then very similar versions of what I had hoped might be remembered as vintage Muir-esque biblical interpretation!

Given the antiquity of the Genesis 3 story of paradise lost, humankind has been fussing over where we went wrong for a long, long time. A lot of the confusion intensified when Christians jumped onto the scene because they significantly altered the religious landscape by changing the accepted understanding of sin. You see, for Hebrews what Adam and Eve did was not sinning so much, but as Rabbi Ben Kamin noted in my reading, they were just growing up - they were learning that life was not only about the comforts of paradise. The Garden story was all about cheyt, the Hebrew word meaning "to miss the mark," which was their definition of sin - like shooting an arrow at the target and missing: after you miss, of course it's a disappointment but you try again, you try to hit the mark. In other words, sinning is a part of life, no different than breathing, eating or sleeping: So we sin - what else is new! But Christians took a different slant on it - Christians went and made it personal like it was an affront to God, they spoke of human flaw and evil as though sin was a significant breach of the life contract that every person signed by default just by being born. Christians went and dogmatized sin, which reminds me of a story. I read where an Eskimo encountered a missionary priest after morning mass and asked: "If I had not known about sin, would it have been necessary to be saved?" Of course not the priest told him. "Then why did you tell me?" replied the Eskimo.

Now I realize that some of you don't even like to hear the word sin, some don't agree with traditional Christian theology while others find the word and theology simply irrelevant. Religious liberals of every kind have problems with sin. If we talk about it at all, often times it comes out in such a way that no one's really sure what's being said, which is Kathleen Norris's frustration. She says: "I am a sinner, and the Presbyterian church offers me a weekly chance to come clean .... But the pastors can be so reluctant to use the word 'sin' that in church we end up confessing nothing except our highly developed capacity for denial .... It would be refreshing to answer, simply, 'I have sinned.'" (Amazing Grace, 165)

Well, I'm here this morning to suggest that sin is not irrelevant for religious liberals or is its theology misguided. Sin can still be a significant word and reality for our faith community, it's just that it needs some reframing, which is why I've always clung to the fact that the Garden story is a myth. A myth, I remind you, is based not on the facts of historical time and place, but on the facts of reoccurring themes from the human psyche. In a myth, the facts are from the story of human development. As a myth that rehearses the reoccurring themes of human denial, responsibility and isolation, the garden myth of Genesis 3 is as truthful a fact as WWII, troops in Kosovo or Hurricane Floyd.

Sin then is anything that I do that isolates, ostracizes or separates myself or others from the human community (and by extension, from the web of Life) which results in robbing or denying human uniqueness and potential. Call it evil or flawed behavior, call it missing the mark, call it denial, repression or reaction formation, it's all sin if it separates, ostracizes or isolates us from the ground of our being, from that which defines us as human beings. Sin is behavior that prevents a person from living out their potential for human being-ness.

Now back to Adam and Eve whose sin wasn't eating the fruit, it would have been a sin - a denial of their potential - if they had not eaten the fruit. No, Adam and Eve sinned - they isolated and ostracized themselves - by refusing to take responsibility for what they had done. And what does the story say they did when confronted with disobedience? They blamed the snake! (which is the name of Harvey Cox's book that I eventually read: On Not Leaving It To the Snake) Adam and Eve's sin wasn't eating from the tree as God had directed them not to; it was refusing to accept responsibility for their freedom, it was in their attempt to be better, different or above what was to become understood as humanness.

By making the reality of sin a story by perpetuating the myth of human irresponsibility and misuse of free will, early Judaism was saying that cheyt - missing the mark - is going to happen over and over, it's a reoccurring theme in human living. In fact, sin is a part of what it means to be human: we try to live up to our potential and we fail, we try again and we fail, over and over we try and fail. But do we stop trying - of course not!

Sam Keen, in his most recent book, uses the flying trapeze as a metaphor for living. Whether just learning, as he was doing, or being an established legend, all trapeze artists perform with a safety net below them. In fact, the safety net is an anticipated part of the performance: not only does one have to learn the right way to fall, but after falling you learn how to include the fall in the show. He concludes: "Gradually, I am learning to enjoy the creative possibilities of the rebound. I suppose there are exceptional men and women whose lives are an unbroken series of successes, but for most of us the ascending path is punctuated by times of descent, downfall, and depression. My failures have taught me there is always a second chance. What I have managed to create after falling has often turned out to be better than the trick I planned." And then he says: "Failing gives fallible human beings the chance to start over .... Everyone and society needs a safety net." Playing on his thoughts for my purposes this morning, his final sentence could read: "[Sinning] gives fallible human beings the chance to start over [with the help of] a safety net." Which is why some Jews approach the 10 Days of Awe (that time between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur) with a reverential enthusiasm that might appear as uncalled for or even naïve. For them, the Days of Awe are a safety net, a way to not only be caught (and embraced in the security of tradition and community), but a way to rebound and keep going. It's this idea of starting over that is so appealing. Yet it's far more than this and after a rather long but necessary introduction, this is really what I want to share with you this morning for I have found that the spirit of the High Holy Days, which concludes tomorrow, not only speaks to me but affirms a spirit of Unitarian Universalism that I unfortunately find lacking - that is, the sense of humbleness and humility that results when acknowledging personal as well as corporate denial, responsibility and isolation. Or using Norris's direct language, simply saying: "I have sinned."

There are reasons why we want to use this language, why we could observe the lessons of Judaism's Holy Days. The Days of Awe annually remind Jews that they are not stuck in their negative patterns but can fundamentally change and transform themselves and the world. The High Holy Days are an opportunity for self-assessment and self-examination if you are willing to take seriously the steps along this path toward healing and wholeness. There are at least these three steps to be taken.

First is remembering (last week's Rosh Hashanah is called Yom Hazikaron, the Day of Remembrance). Remembering means looking at what we have done the last year, what we have become. Perhaps you will have a hard time remembering or you just don't know where to begin. This is the value of a community of faith, you don't do these things alone but together. In this spirit, let's begin remembering by doing it together by sharing responsive reading 637, "A Litany of Atonement." This reading reminds us of the places where we may have fallen short of our goals:

For remaining silent when a single voice would have made a difference

For each time that our fears have made us rigid and inaccessible

For each time that we have struck out in anger without just cause

For each time that our greed has blinded us to the needs of others

For the selfishness which sets us apart and alone

For falling short of the admonitions of the spirit

For losing sight of our unity

For those and for so many acts both evident and subtle which has fueled the illusion of separateness

Remembering, the first step toward setting things right for the new year, is taken by reviewing what you did, what you have become since last September. Feel free to copy this reading if you find it helpful.

The second step is measuring, measuring what you are over/against what you wanted to be. What's going on here is two things: first, reaffirming the vision of possibility, that what you want is not out of reach, that you missed the mark but you can try again. Yes, you might be stuck but you can get unstuck. And one of the ways to get unstuck and reclaim your vision is the second part of measuring: forgiving - how easy it is to be stuck because of forgiveness. I am convinced that personal and corporate liberation and moving ahead is impossible without forgiveness. Listen to this simply story:

"Oh, I was just a girl," she demurred. "I remember that in the kitchen before Shabbos there was a lot of commotion. Important guests were arriving from far and wide. Everything had to be just so. We were all under a great deal of pressure. In the tumult, we would bump into one another, step on one another's toes. Sometimes we would even yell at one another.

"Yes," said the traveler, "but what was so special about Shabbos?"

"Forget what?"

"We always forgot to forgive one another. And as soon as we remembered to forgive one another, it was Shabbos. Just like that." (L. Kushner, Invisible Lines, 91-2)

Measuring can occur "just like that" when the right steps are taken, the steps that allow us to see where we have been and where we want to go, affirming our vision of possibility.

Remembering, then measuring; and finally repentance (teshuvah). The only way to get to repentance is by remembering and measuring because repentance means that having missed the mark, you make the recommitment to try again. But not without some effort, which is what makes repentance so difficult - you have to actually do something, not just think about change, but make change. Jack Reimer, a conservative Rabbi, wrote a beautiful reading about what remembering means. Lets read it responsively, 634. It's entitled "On Turning."

Now is the time for turning.

The birds are beginning to turn and are heading once more toward the South.

For leaves, birds, and animals turning comes instinctively.

It takes an act of will for us to make a turn. It means breaking with old habits.

It means losing face; it means starting all over again; and this is always painful.

It means recognizing that we have the ability to change. These things are hard to do.

God, help us to turn - from callousness to sensitivity, from hostility to love, from pettiness to purpose, from envy to contentment, from carelessness to discipline, from fear to faith.

Revive our lives, as at the beginning.

Remembering, measuring and then repentance or turning. This is the safety net offered by Judaism's 10 Days of Awe, recognizing that sinning is part of life, missing the mark is going to happen because we are human beings. This is the way it has always been and the way it will always be.

Now please, don't go home or back to work or school and tell your spouse, lover, friends or family that your minister advised you to sin boldly or that I said that sinning is good - the more you do it the better you'll feel or that sin is a growth opportunity. This is not what I'm saying - well, not exactly. Truth is we do commit acts, we have thoughts that miss the mark, that are sinful: if we don't then we are not of this planet! That's what the Adam and Eve story is all about: to be human is to fall short of expectations, not to live up to our ideals: this is a given; we will miss the mark. And we never quit trying to be whole, seeking oneness, completion, at-one-ment.

Included in some Yom Kippur services are these words:

While the struggle to change ourselves and our world may be long and painful, it is our struggle. No one else can do it for us. To the extent that we have failed to do all that we could to make ourselves or our community all that we ought to be, we ask God and each other for forgiveness - and we now commit ourselves to acting differently this coming year. (Lerner)

May this be our prayer. Shalom.

© the Rev. Fredric J. Muir
September 19, 1999

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