The Conversation
And he said to the woman, “Indeed, has God said, . .” Genesis 3:1a NASB
Indeed – There’s a third chair in the therapist’s office. It’s occupied by the yetzer ha’ra. You know, that essential part of you that wants to control your life, to overpower your responsibilities for others and have what you want when you want it regardless of the costs. It’s that part of you that conversed with the ‘ezer kenegdo so long ago, the part that questioned God’s authority over you reminding you that this life is your life, not borrowed but owned. It’s the person who wrote the lyrics:
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But what’s puzzling you
Is the nature of my game[1]
But you know that nature of the game, don’t you? The nature of the game is self, with all the modifiers. Self-control. Self-sufficiency. Self-serving. Self-concern. Self-identity. Self-determination. It’s me at the center of everything.
Can’t live with it; can’t live without it. This alternate person sitting in the empty chair is really what motivates your life. That seems to be the heart of the matter. Some theologies instruct you to destroy your invisible companion. Rise up as the new man, free from all those desires. Unfortunately, you discover this murder of self is suicide. Maybe you just need to flee. Paul seems to advise that route. But once again you find an empty chair wherever you happen to sit. One ancient punishment for murder entailed strapping the corpse to the perpetrator and making him carry it wherever he went. Perhaps that’s something you already feel. If you can’t kill the empty chair occupant, and you can’t escape his presence, then you might try compromise. Most of us take this approach. We battle between stuffing the closet with more unfulfilled desires while we try to keep the door locked so other people will think we’re living the victorious life. We want to let him out but we know he’ll have his revenge if we do. It’s very hard to keep a raving maniac locked up forever.
Genesis 3 sounds like a conversation between the empty chair and the unsure victim. The whole discussion can be reduced to a single word, kî. Translated above as “indeed,” kî is a mood setting word. It covers the umbrella of “as though, as, because that, but, certainly, except, for, surely, since, that, then, when, etc.”[2] Oswalt notes the particle describes temporal and causal relations. In this verse, kî is the empty chair, the invisible voice insinuating that obedience interferes with desire—with proposed legitimate desire. Why shouldn’t you take a bite from the Tree? Why shouldn’t you have life your way? The appeal of the empty chair isn’t deliberate disobedience. That’s too harsh. The appeal is justified desire. “Why not?” is kî in Genesis 3.
Can I suggest something disturbing (perhaps)? We all are in conversation with the serpent. We all hear a familiar voice asking for our approval. If we glance at the empty chair in the moment the conversation begins, we’ll notice we’re sitting there—or at least the alternative “we” is looking back at us. Before that empty chairperson starts demanding we do what he wants, we have a moment, a brief sliver in time, to ask “Why?” “Why do you want me to do this?” “Why are you so intent on this path?” “Why do you insist I comply?” We might not hear an answer because it’s possible the empty chair doesn’t even know why. But at least we might recognize there are other paths. Conversation can change the translation of kî.
Topical Index: kî, indeed, desire, yetzer ha’ra, conversation, Genesis 3:1a
[1] The Rolling Stones, “Sympathy for the Devil”
[2] Oswalt, J. N. (1999). 976 כִי. R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer Jr., & B. K. Waltke (Eds.), Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament (electronic ed., p. 437). Chicago: Moody Press.
