top of page
Search
Writer's pictureseasonedsaint

Fig Leaves and Good Deeds: why we can't grow our own righteousness

The first painting of Adam and Eve I can recall seeing featured a naked couple decked out in some surprisingly trendy leaves, Adam with a one-piece and Eve in a very modest three-piece outfit.

 

I had grasped the story as being their attempt to cover their nakedness, which, as a child, seemed an excellent idea, but I still had questions as to why it was okay for them to be naked previously.

What had happened that made them realise they were naked, as the Bible states, “Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked. And they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths.” Genesis 3:7

 

Their eyes were opened... but not in the literal sense, as they hadn’t been wandering around blind before. So, what exactly caused this newfound awareness? Surely, it wasn’t just about choosing the wrong piece of fruit. But the bigger question is: what did they see? What did they see that God didn’t want them to see or to know?

 

One of the things I find reassuring about Christianity is that it is a historical faith; the opening words of the Bible are not “Once upon a time” they are “In the beginning.”          

These are far more than fairy tales—they are the stories of real people, real places, and real history. They are anchored in landmarks that were recognisable then and still endure today.

The story of Eden is one such account.

 

We read that Eden was a garden, an idyllic spot with trees that were both pleasant to the eye and suitable for food; it was an ideal location for Adam and Eve. It's difficult to picture what a lovely garden looks like in some of our cities; litter and vandalism quickly invade the most beautiful of places. But we still try of course; we create our parks, and if we're fortunate enough to have a home with a bit of land, we tend to our gardens—our version of Eden. It’s as if something deep within us yearns to reconnect with our origin... a longing to return home.

 

God told Adam to work the land and take care of it, to work the very soil he was taken from; Adam was related to both the ground and to God from who he received his life and as he worked, he would be reminded to whom he owed his allegiance, to be reminded that he was not his own, and God, to reinforce this relationship with Adam, gave him one crucial command:

“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.” Genesis 2:16-17

 

God places one restriction upon Adam, the first command: “Do not eat from one tree.” In a myriad of trees, Adam is forbidden to eat only the fruit from one, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Genesis 3:4-5

 

The scene continues to unfold, and into this idyllic garden creeps a serpent; where he comes from, we do not know, but we do know what he wants…he wants mankind’s allegiance, and now Eve hears Satan’s first, insidious words—a question designed to plant seeds of doubt. “Did God really say…?” he begins, laying the groundwork for mistrust. This wasn’t an innocent inquiry but a lie cloaked in subtleness. The serpent misquotes God, twisting His words: “Did God actually say, ‘You shall not eat of any tree in the garden?”

 

Adam seems to have taught Eve well, as she attempted to correct the serpent's deception with her response to the question. However, in doing so, she exaggerated God’s command about the tree, adding a restriction that wasn’t originally there—namely, the idea that even touching the fruit would result in death (Genesis 3:2-3).

It’s unlikely Adam intentionally "mansplained" the instruction to Eve. Perhaps he added the restriction as an extra safeguard when passing on the command. 

However, that is doubtful, given that Adam hardly flinched when he saw Eve handling the fruit and was happy to touch it himself.

 

The serpent's immediate retort was an outright lie, an outright refute; “you will not surely die”,and then he goes on “, For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil”

 

God had given Adam and Eve an invitation to eat from any tree in the garden, it was a generous invitation, as generous as the mission he had given them. God had entrusted Adam and Eve with a flourishing, perfect garden and given them a mission to extend its beauty across the earth.

We can picture God as a loving Father, looking at His cherished children with encouragement, asking them to multiply in number and replicate the splendour of Eden throughout the world. It’s akin to a billionaire entrusting a small piece of the family business to his son and daughter-in-law, challenging them to grow it into a global enterprise.

This mission is captured beautifully in Genesis 1:28

And God blessed them. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.”

 

The serpent now cleverly plants seeds of doubt about God’s goodness; he transforms God’s generous invitation to freely enjoy every tree in the garden, save one, into a dark and restrictive command.

Here, we see subtle deception at play.

God had opened the whole of creation to the man and woman, he offered them everything to delight in—everything except one tree, and even that boundary is lovingly explained with a warning.

But the serpent whispers a different story, painting God as harsh and withholding as if the Creator of all this abundance were somehow stingy, unwilling to give his children the best of all worlds.

 

The serpent casts doubt on the integrity of God’s word; he is in effect, asking Eve if God’s word can be trusted.

Satan still whispers the same lie today, convincing hearts that God’s loving warning is false. He insists there is no judgment, and the world clings to this illusion, desperate to believe it. People try to ease their guilt on their own, fumbling for peace in the darkness. But we know where that road leads—we’ve seen it far too often, and the ending is always the same: despair.

 

Eve looked at the fruit and saw that it was “good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom” (V6). Therefore, she took some and ate it; then she gave it to her husband, who ate too.

This is the essence of sin: unbelief—a rejection of God’s truth and the first stirrings of rebellion against Him.

 

It is a pathetic picture that we are given of Adam and Eve in the moments following their rebellion as they suddenly see what God knew they would see through their disobedience. It wasn’t so much their physical nakedness but their spiritual nakedness. For the first time, they experienced guilt and shame, and they found it unbearable; they now had an overwhelming desire to cover themselves. They knew they would need to work quickly and grabbed whatever was at hand. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do; it was the best they could offer.

 

In their panic to cover themselves, they forget about God. Suddenly, they hear the voice of God in the garden. They are petrified; previously, they had run to Him, but now fear freezes their heart and like any child caught in the act, they run back into the bushes, and they wait.

The effect of Adam’s sin, his eating of the fruit of the tree was instantaneous, death was instantaneous, Adam’s spirit died, and fellowship with God was broken; not only was his spirit dead, but his soul and body now began to die, and so he ran, he ran away from God when he should have run towards God.

 

But God called to Adam with those words we have all heard throughout our childhood when our mischief has been discovered, those words that can send a chill of fear even through the most defiant of children…. “Where are you?”

 

Adam answers, “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked, and I hid myself.”

Naked….but the fig leaves were still there; they were still in place—they’d put in the effort to cover themselves as best they could.

Indeed, God should have said, “Well, you’re not naked; I see you’ve crafted some... interesting outfits for yourselves.” He might not have applauded their fashion sense or sewing skills, but hey, at least they had tried to cover themselves…..they had tried, and that was the problem.

 

In Eve being encouraged to eat and both of them believing the serpent's lies, both she and Adam, who previously had only known good, now knew evil…in truth, what had actually happened that instead of being like God, loving good and hating evil, they became like Satan, hating good and loving evil. Now, when it was far too late, the couple saw the happiness they had fallen from and the misery they had fallen into; they had died—they were no longer able to live with God, but they were separated from Him, and the relationship was severed. 

 

They had now fallen under God’s curse. The woman was cursed with both pain in childbirth and conflict in marriage, seeking to assert authority over her husband while her husband struggled to lead and direct his wife. The man faced his curse, toiling with sweat and hardship to produce food from a resistant, cursed ground, where even the soil and plants seemed to be against him. So not only were Adam and Eve in a wrong relationship with God, but they were also in a wrong relationship with each other.

They sought to cover themselves using whatever was available and fashioned covers with fig leaves.

But their self-made coverings were inadequate; they were the first example of “filthy rags”.

So, God took animals, probably sheep, and killed them to make coverings for the couple;  innocent animals were sacrificed to cover their sin, but never truly removed it. Hebrews 10:4

 

For the first time, we see that the death of animals symbolised the death of Jesus, whose blood alone has the power to cleanse and redeem. The death of animals did not enable God to forgive sin or declare sinners righteous. Only the death of Jesus could achieve that, and only His blood could provide true cleansing. However, the sacrifices of animals foreshadowed His ultimate sacrifice.

Through this, God demonstrated the concept of an innocent substitute dying in place of a sinner—one animal for Eve, one for Adam….and as we continue to read the Bible, we see this same concept developing: one substitute for one family, then one substitute for one nation, and finally, through the death and resurrection of Jesus, one substitute for the world!

 

God still calls out to His creation, "Where are you?" he still calls out to you. Are you hiding among the bushes, clothed in your fig leaves? You glance at them—they may not be much, but they’re something you’ve done for yourself. You’ve tried, you’ve worked hard. The stitching may not be perfect, and the styling certainly isn’t, but you hope it makes you in some way presentable to God.

Or perhaps you are one who accepts God’s grace and help only if your efforts are part of the equation.

This, however, is what God will not accept. Good works may impress others, and fig leaves may look appealing, but they cannot satisfy God. Why? Because no death has taken place, and “the wages of sin is death.”

 

 

Your fig leaf efforts to cover yourself are futile, but the good news is that God offers you a far greater covering. The Bible makes it clear that no human effort can truly erase sin. Just as God replaced Adam and Eve's fig leaf coverings with garments of skin—demonstrating His provision and grace—He offers us forgiveness and restoration through Jesus Christ.

God calls us to trust in Jesus: His person, His work, His death, and His resurrection. His love doesn’t depend on our attempts to hide or fix ourselves but flows from His desire to cleanse and renew us completely.

God invites you to step out of hiding—out of the bushes, not to face judgement like the serpent or a curse like Adam and Eve, but to receive His forgiveness and the promise of eternal life.

 

 



 

1 comment

Recent Posts

See All
bottom of page