He Called Out, "Where Are You?"

Last week I wrote about how Adam and Eve’s broken relationship was the result of the distancing of their heart from the Father by letting their fascination for Him gradually shift to other things. The natural curiosity within them led to discovering many things about creation, themselves, and God. But their immaturity also made them susceptible to other voices in the garden.

I believe that Father understood their susceptibility and desired to protect them from a harm they could not comprehend. As I mentioned last week, Adam and Even could not discern between good or evil, even if they wanted to. They had no capacity to understand. They had no schema—no framework regarding these abstract concepts.

They were more like children, and a simple instruction was all they could receive from the Father: Do not eat. They weren’t expected to know why. Just to trust—for now.

By the way, I do believe Father had intended to provide full disclosure and access to the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, when Adam and Eve had developed the character to steward such knowledge. Given enough time, perhaps their daily walks with Yahweh would have taught them how to judge and discern things like their Father did. They would have developed a capacity to govern good and bad from their relational connection with Him.

I think it’s important to not overlook the child-likeness of man and woman, because that’s who Father came looking for in the Garden. Specifically, He was searching for His innocent children. Children who were both naked and unashamed.

When Father asked, “Where are you?”, He wasn’t calling out because He didn’t know where they were in the garden. He called out because He had lost His innocent children!

This calling wasn’t just a shout, like “Hey!” The word in Hebrew is “qara“ and it properly means “to address by name.” As such, Father was calling for them by name. This is much more significant because as I discussed in a previous article, a name isn’t just an identifier, like we use today in western society. Instead, our name contains the essence of our whole being. Our identity. Our nature. It reveals the purpose of why we move, live and breathe.

In truth, without a name. We cease to exist.

When Eve was told that she wouldn’t die if she ate the forbidden fruit, the serpent was right. She didn’t experience a physical death. In fact, she experienced enlightenment! But it was a misleading half truth, for she did experience another and more significant death. The true essence of her being died in that moment.

In that split second of innocence lost, Adam and Eve lost their identity and nature, and their purpose to exist was confused and disillusioned. It was as if in that moment their being became disassembled and their individual parts—spirit, soul and body—became estranged from each other.

In that same instant as they became “wise,” they became ashamed because their nakedness revealed their true loss. They died to their name, and ceased to exist as they once were.

Like any parent who has lost a child to a traumatic event, I imagine in that moment, Father’s heart took a hit, too. Like a gut punch. I wouldn’t be surprise if He actually called out grief, because there’s another Hebrew meaning related to qara. It mean to befall, cause to come upon, fall out, happen, meet with. As the Father called out their name, it’s quite possible that He may also have been saying, “What’s happened?”

Isn’t that fascinating? The moment Adam and Eve felt the death of their nature—the loss of their being, Father felt it, too. And in a flood of emotions, He came immediately into the garden, perhaps swiftly, in search of His lost children. In grief and fury, He called out, “Man! Woman! What’s happened? What has befallen you, my beloved children? Where are you?!”

Does this sound like the action of a capricious and aloof sky god? Certainly not! Nor is it the judgmental reaction of a harsh and disassociated lord or king. Instead, it is the response of a loving and greatly concerned Father who has just suffered the loss of His children to something worse than death itself—eternal separation from their divine nature.

“That’s reading a lot into Genesis 3:9,” you might be saying. “How do you know what God felt in that moment?” I don’t know for certain, but I know His character. And I know John 3:16-18 tells us that He still loves, to this day, all those made in His image. So much so, that He willingly sent His Son after us.

And this Firstborn responded like His Father; calling out to men and women by name—asking “where are you?” But when He found them, the results were much different from the first time. Instead of being disenfranchised and rejected, He embraced them with immeasurable joy. And the deeds and words of his life declared,

“There you are! Take my name, and let me restore our Father’s name upon you, as well. More than that, let me also go and get the Father so that we might come and make our home with you—where you are!”

The gospel has always been a message of a divine father searching for his son—his daughter, and it stands in stark contrast to every other religious concept or origin story. Even Christians can forget this in their hustle and bustle to save the World through correct doctrine and spiritual processes.

The reality is-is that the Way of salvation pursued us to the ends of the earth, called out to us by name, and searched for us until He found us. Not the other way around.

Still today, the Father pursues with passionate love, calling “where are you?” Like the Son He sent to us, He also greatly desires to restore His divine nature in us. But what’s more, He longs to restore the relational connection He once had when He walked in the cool of the day with Mankind.

Salvation isn’t about escaping death and fleeing destruction. It’s about turning in the opposite direction of where we were heading, hearing His call in the garden of our heart, and embracing the invitation of restored relationship with the Father Creator. It’s about saying “yes” to taking those daily walks with Him again, remembering our identity and purpose, and reclaiming the divine nature once lost to us.

Until next time, continue to pursue the you He designed you to be.

Shalom.