When the Woman saw that the tree looked like good eating and realized what she would get out of it—she’d know everything!—she took and ate the fruit and then gave some to her husband, and he ate. [Genesis 3:6 (MSG)]
I often wonder why Eve ate that forbidden fruit and why Adam so foolishly followed suit. Of course, we have the clever, devious and deceitful serpent to blame. Assuring Eve that God lied to her, he said she wouldn’t die if she ate the apple. He promised that she’d be just like God with the knowledge of good and evil. God hadn’t given Adam and Eve any reason to doubt His word, so why did they succumb so easily to Satan’s temptation?
It certainly wasn’t hunger that led them to that forbidden fruit; they lived in Eden where everything was good and all of their needs were met. The two already had the knowledge of all that was good so why were they so interested in learning about evil? The serpent, however, piqued Adam and Eve’s curiosity. Seeing that lovely tree with luscious looking fruit, they got inquisitive. Why did God forbid that fruit? What would happen if they ate it? What did it taste like? Who would know? What was evil? What was death? What would it be like to have that knowledge—to know everything? Curiosity tugged at the two of them and they started yearning for what wasn’t theirs to have.
Curiosity was given to us by God and it is a beautiful gift. It makes us wonder what lies beyond and question what things are made of, how they work, and how they can be used. It causes us to ask, “What would happen if…?” Curiosity moved mankind forward in an amazing and awesome way and, without it, we wouldn’t have things like the wheel, electricity, solar energy, computers, vaccines, telescopes, or space travel. As William Arthur Ward said, “Curiosity is the wick in the candle of learning.”
Along with being that wick in the candle of learning, however, curiosity can be a double-edge sword. While it’s what makes a child explore and ask “Why?” it’s also what makes him stick a fork in an electric socket, swallow button batteries, and bite into detergent pods. Curiosity sent the Magi to Bethlehem and the shepherds to the manger but it also caused Adam and Eve to disobey God. It was curiosity that caused the Ethiopian eunuch to ask Philip to explain Isaiah but it also caused the prodigal son to explore a profligate lifestyle.
Untamed curiosity can make us vulnerable to the enemy’s attacks. It was curiosity that caused David to watch Bathsheba from his rooftop and lust for what wasn’t his to possess and curiosity made the men of Beth Shemesh peek in the Ark at what wasn’t theirs to see. Curiosity asks, “What’s the harm in one taste…one touch…one sip…one try…one time…one look?” Remember, Lot’s wife took just one inquisitive look back at Sodom and it didn’t end well for her.
“Where would we be today if no one got curious?” asked the teacher. “In the Garden of Eden!” answered the little boy. When curiosity leads us to be displeased with the wrongs of the world, it is a blessing. But, when curiosity leads us to be discontented with the blessings we have, as it did with Adam and Eve, it only leads to trouble. Curiosity isn’t a sin but what we do with it can be! Like free will, curiosity is a God-given gift but, like free will, it must be used with caution. The choice is ours.
Curiosity is a kernel of the forbidden fruit which still sticketh in the throat of a natural man, sometimes to the danger of his choking. [Thomas Fuller]
An old Chinese parable tells of a poor farmer whose only horse runs away. His friends commiserate over his bad luck and ask how he’ll plow his field. The farmer answers, “Who knows? We shall see.” Two days later, the horse returns along with several wild horses. When the farmer’s friends congratulate him on the good fortune of now having a stable full of horses, the farmer replies, “Who knows? We shall see.” The following week, while trying to tame the horses, the farmer’s son breaks his leg in three places. The farmer’s friends offer condolences and wonder how he’ll get his work done with his son unable to walk and help. The farmer answers, “Who knows? We shall see.” When a war breaks out, the emperor’s men arrive and conscript all the young men in the village. With his leg in a cast and needing crutches, the farmer’s son is considered unfit for battle and remains in the village. As his neighbors watch their sons leave home, they congratulate the farmer on his stroke of luck. He replies, “Who knows? We shall see.” Although the son’s leg eventually heals, he has a bad limp. The farmer’s neighbors express their sympathy for such trouble. “Who knows? We shall see,” he again replies. By the time the war is over, all of the village’s boys have died in battle but, with his several horses and a son now able to help, the farmer can plow several fields and has grown wealthy. When the villagers congratulate him on his good fortune, the farmer replies, “Who knows? We shall see.”
A sin of commission is the willful act of doing something that violates God’s commands in Scripture. With a little self-examination, our sins of commission are pretty easy for us to spot because they’re blatant and (more often than not) deliberate. While we may try to rationalize our actions, we know when we’ve lied, cheated, coveted, stolen or worse.
In one of those viral, supposedly true but probably not, inspirational stories, a wealthy man is said to bend over and pick up any and every coin he spots on the ground. When asked why he bothered to collect mere pennies, the man explained he didn’t pick up coins for their monetary value; he picked them up for the value of the message on them: “In God We Trust.” He believed the penny’s words to be God’s way of reminding him to trust the Lord rather than his wealth and considered every coin he found an opportunity to acknowledge his faith in prayer.
In the late 1970s, psychologists Suzanna Imes and Pauline Rose Clance developed the concept of what is known as the “imposter syndrome.” Loosely defined as doubting one’s abilities and feeling like a fraud, it is believing that you are not as competent as others perceive you to be. The impostor syndrome manifests in failing to realistically assess our competence and skills, self-denigration, a fear of not living up to expectations, and attributing any of our successes to someone or something else, like luck.