Detail from "The Fall of Man" (painting) by Lucas Cranach the Elder, 1530.

These days we pay a lot of lip-service to relational theology. We talk about how human beings were created for right relationships with our Creator, with each other, and for right relatedness with the rest of creation. Yet our theologies are almost exclusively anthropocentric, because we have launched them from Genesis 3—the story of humanity’s fall—instead of Genesis 1 and 2, where the intent of relationship is described clearly, albeit incompletely.

If we start with the fall

If we start our theologies with the fall, it’s not clear that right relationship is the Creator’s focus. We are left to infer this in reverse from the deception and brokenness described in Genesis 3, where the essence is, “Oops, we messed up. Woe is us! We are lost and separated. How will we find the way?”

One consequence of starting with this brokenness is that we arrive at an interpretation deeply rooted in dualism. It goes something like this: only human beings are spiritual and redeemable; the rest of creation is destined for destruction and replacement. Sin enters God’s realm through humans but it takes place due to the enticement of non-human, material creation. Lacking a spiritual essence, non-human, non-redeemable material creation is subsequently treated as hostile and evil. Humanity must then pursue redemption in this hostile, twisted and distorted world. Only a measure of temporary relief is afforded while we await the fullness of a future redemption.

Augustine was deeply engaged in this type of dualistic thinking, as was Thomas Aquinas and other theologians throughout the years. Harmful theologies have resulted when church leadership has focused on the fall and the separation of the material world from its spiritual nature—the essence of God’s impartation in all of creation. Theologies that label people “godless heathens” and argue to “kill the Indian, save the child” proceed from this place of dualistic thought. So do notions that, in the end times, creation will be consumed by fire and only human beings will be saved, and will inhabit a new, ex nihilo or “out of nothing”  heaven and earth.

This is the view from the bottom, looking up through the fall. And yet, the creation narrative in Genesis 1 and 2 brings into sharp relief that such was not the intent of our Creator. The view from the top—from the beginning—looks different.

Taking it from the top

In Genesis 1 and 2, creation is seen to be innately relational because it is ontologically spiritual. The spiritual essence of God, present as the Spirit broods over the waters, is instilled in creation in a deeply relational way. All life was created to have relationship with God, each in its respective way through its form and function. (See Genesis 1:28–30, Job 12, and Romans 1 and 8.)  Human beings, animals, plant life, birds, and fish were linked to their Creator spiritually and intuitively—an intuition I would suggest is retained in the rest of creation but which in humans has been supplanted by ego and ethnocentrism.

When animals are brought before the prototype human being to ascertain the association they (the human and the rest of creation) will have, it becomes clear that right relationship is at creation’s very core—it is ontological. Genesis 1:28–30 describes the nurturing reciprocity built into creation, and while the animals prove unsatisfactory for the full companionship needs of humanity, their spiritual relatedness to each other and to the human emerges in the process of naming. This intrinsic, spiritual, and relational understanding of animals is something that First Nations people have traditionally appreciated more than Western society.

Genesis 2 describes an even more intimate relationship—something that the apostle Paul would much later describe as a profound mystery. In an act of passion and love (an act repeated in human procreation through the eons), God makes one human being into two—each fully human yet neither complete without the other. In the aloneness of the single human, there is an acknowledgement of the incompleteness of creation; this aloneness is ended by division and subsequently merging, as the two become one flesh.

In this profound description of God’s creative will in Genesis 1 and 2, right relationship with God and each other is clear. The foundation of relationship—its spiritual essence—is made manifest in all creation.

If we understand God’s original intention, then we understand the fall and restoration more profoundly. Adam and Eve, in their disobedience, descend into a state of separation in their relationship with the Creator, and a far-reaching pronouncement is made, with consequences for all of creation. The curse shreds each aspect of original relationship. The effects of the curse, though pronounced on the male and female, nonetheless implicate all of the created order. For the male, the previous idyllic relationship in creation—wanting for nothing and not having to labour for sustenance—turns to toil and hardship. For the woman, egalitarian intimacy with her husband yields to bringing forth children in pain and suffering. Relationship is replaced with subservience, which is exploited by men century upon century.

And, for humanity yet to come, relational intimacy with the One who made them is subjected to distorted yearnings, punctuated regularly by an idolatry that misrepresents the intended relationship. This is the curse. All of creation, as Paul would note, is subjected to its effect, and all await a future, full redemption.

Can we live in a restored relationship?

In Jesus, the curse is practically and prophetically broken. We may now live out from under its effects—at least in theory.

While this is clearly a “now but not yet” reality, one in which we both receive and await the fulfillment of the promise, capacity for right relationship has been restored. This ought to have implications for the way in which we live our lives within all of God’s creation—not just the way in which we treat human beings. We are expected to demonstrate right relatedness with all creation.

This ought to go far beyond the traditional thinking of stewardship and increasingly popular notions of “creation care.”  At times this smacks of an anthropocentric utilitarianism—a “what’s best for us” approach. The fact is, the redemption made possible because of Jesus is as much for the rest of creation as for human beings. It was “subjected to futility”; it did not subject itself.

What might we do then to live out from under the curse of damaged relationship?

First, we must work toward understanding Genesis 1 as the proper starting place for biblical theology and praxis. Once we restore the proper starting place we must realize that the essence of God—the very breath of God—has been imparted to the whole of creation, such that it “became a living soul” or in Hebrew, nephesh chay or chay nephesh (see Genesis 1:30 and 2:7). While humanity has been given the gift of divine image and likeness (whatever that might fully mean), the rest of creation is nonetheless possessed of a spiritual nature instilled by the creative acts of the Spirit of God who brooded over chaos and brought forth all of life, not just human. This should have implications for how we live in the cosmos—whether it is in our treatment of humans, animals, plants, or rocks, or in our understanding of human spirituality.

Second, human complementarity—which has descended into frequent hell on earth between men and women—must become the renewed reality of a curse removed, not a disfigurement retained. The essence of the Trinity of God is herein represented and must therefore be herein restored. Subjugation of women and/or men in any form under the guise of personal autonomy and liberty is an aberration and runs contrary to the model of the one “who did not consider equality with God something to be grasped” (Philippians 2:6).

Or, at least, that is what should be happening. Sadly, we seem to enjoy living under, not out-from-under, the curse.

But then perhaps scripture’s admonition to faith—spoken and lived—is apropos: “that the whole world is a prisoner of sin, so that what was promised, being given through faith in Jesus Christ, might be given to those who believe” (Galatians 3:22).