Adam Is All Of Us
Do you remember the first time you heard the story of Adam and Eve? Maybe it was on a Sunday school flannelgraph, or perhaps you’ve always pictured it in your mind—lush trees, colorful flowers, and the first humans walking with God in a perfect garden. It begins as a story of beauty and intimacy, but quickly shifts into tragedy: a serpent, a choice, a fall, and an exile.
For many of us, this story raises questions. Was there really a talking snake? Where was this garden? And why does it feel so much like our own lives, with beauty on one page and brokenness on the next?
Genesis 2–3 is more than an ancient tale—it’s a mirror. When we read it, we don’t just learn about Adam and Eve. We see ourselves. Their story is our story.
Theologian Peter Enns describes Genesis as an ancient meditation on the human condition—who we are, how we relate to God, and why the world is both breathtakingly beautiful and heartbreakingly broken. Adam’s very name means “human,” made from adamah (the ground). We are dust and breath—fragile and finite, yet filled with the very Spirit of God (Genesis 2:7). That paradox is what it means to be human.
Placed in a garden of abundance, Adam and Eve were called to cultivate and steward creation. Yet God set a boundary: “You must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” (Genesis 2:17). Why? Because true freedom requires trust. Life is found not in grasping wisdom on our own terms, but in communion with God.
But Adam and Eve’s story is our story. They grasped. They hid. They blamed. And we do too. The serpent’s question—“Did God really say?” (Genesis 3:1)—still echoes in our hearts. Sin fractures everything: our relationship with God, with each other, with creation itself. Work becomes toil, relationships carry tension, and death casts its shadow.
And yet—even here—God does not abandon. He clothes Adam and Eve before sending them out (Genesis 3:21). From the very beginning, His grace is woven into the story.
This is where the gospel shines brightest. The Apostle Paul calls Jesus the “last Adam” (1 Corinthians 15:45). Where Adam chose disobedience, Jesus chose obedience. Where Adam hid, Jesus revealed the Father. Where Adam’s failure brought death, Jesus’ faithfulness brings life.
The good news is this: Adam may be all of us, but Jesus came for all of us. In Christ, dust is once again filled with the breath of God.
So here’s the invitation: stop hiding. Stop grasping. Stop blaming. Step out of the trees and into the presence of the God who still walks with us, who clothes us in mercy, and who restores us through Christ.
Adam is all of us. But because of Jesus, we have a new way back to Eden.