A couple of months ago I posted about Michael Austin’s recent book, The Testimony of Two Nations: How the Book of Mormon Reads, and Rereads, the Bible (Univ. of Illinois Press, 2024). It’s an excellent book and you should all buy at least two copies (so you can give one away to a deserving friend or family member when so moved). I’m going to discuss a couple of his observations in Chapter Two, “Stories of the Fall,” in particular his comparison of Lehi’s dream in 1 Nephi 8 to the Genesis Garden of Eden narrative, in the middle section of this post. In the first section I’m going to set the stage with my own quick look at LDS garden narratives, in the middle section I’ll talk about Austin’s chapter, and in the last section I’m going to bring some historical criticism into the discussion.
Sometimes a Tree Isn’t a Tree
A central feature of both the Garden narrative in Genesis and Lehi’s dream is the Tree of Life. The first question to ask when reading a biblical narrative is genre. What type of narrative are we reading? This seems particularly important in an LDS discussion. The variety of genres in ancient texts are rather different from modern genres. The key distinction for this discussion, of course, is whether the narrative block is intended to recount actual historical events in some form or whether it is a didactic tale of some sort.
As presented in 1 Nephi 8, Lehi’s dream is … a dream. It is presented as a divine dream or an inspired dream, but still, it’s just a dream. The features of the dream are symbolic, open perhaps to a variety of meanings or interpretations (the text in 1 Nephi 11-15 helpfully supplies some suggested meanings). The Tree of Life in Lehi’s dream is a symbol, possibly representing the love of God or the condescension of God or something else. Most readers will, of course, tie the Tree of Life in Lehi’s dream to the Tree of Life in Genesis 3, where the fruit of the tree bestowed some form of immortality. But the key point is that it’s not a real tree, it’s a symbol. It appeared in a dream. Most LDS readers will agree with this conclusion. They won’t insist that there is an actual Rod of Iron next to a pathway somewhere out there in the real world.
That makes sense, of course, to an orthodox LDS reader who takes the Book of Mormon as an accurate translation of an authentically ancient text, accurately reporting (through Nephi) the actual dream of an actual person named Lehi, with additional explanation of the dream supplied by an angel to Nephi in later chapteres. But we all have access to the account not as a dream but as a narrative in the Book of Mormon. We aren’t dreaming, we are reading a text. Taken as a text, the analysis really isn’t any different than if it were a dream (it’s a short tale with symbolic features intended to convey a religious message or a variety of possible religious messages). But it’s still worth emphasizing that we aren’t really talking about a dream, we are talking about a text, 1 Nephi 8.
How do Mormons read Genesis 2-3? It’s a similar sort of short narrative with filled with symbolic features. There are two trees, each with fruit that carries what would in any other story be called magical properties. There is a talking snake. There are a man and a woman with symbolic names. Adam as a name comes from adamah, Hebrew for land or soil. In one translation I have read, the name was translated as “mud man,” consistent with Adam being fashioned from earth or clay (“the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground,” Gen. 2:7 NIV). It’s like if you were to pick up a book at the library, without glancing at the title or call number, and read a couple of pages from the middle of the book. If you read about two characters named “Man” and “Woman,” you are 99% sure this is a fairy tale or didactic story, not a news report or a historical account. Nobody names their kids Man and Woman. Nobody names their kid Soil or Mother.
Plainly, Genesis 2-3 is written as an origin story with symbolic features, not a historical account. That is how the vast majority of biblical scholars see it and how many modern readers read it. But despite the similarities to Lehi’s dream (which Mormon readers have no difficulty seeing as a dream or story, not a real-world account), the orthodox reading of Genesis 2-3, followed by LDS leaders and most Mormons and most BYU religion types, is that Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden is a historical account of what happened 6000 years ago. The “updated” LDS narrative in Moses (which is just the first few chapters of Joseph Smith’s revision of the KJV Bible) substitutes Satan for the talking snake. Mormons don’t even study Genesis 2-3 in the Old Testament curriculum, they generally read the Moses text instead.
It’s a bit puzzling, really. I recognize that the LDS insistence on the historicity of Adam, Eve, and the Garden is rooted in the traditional (premodern) reading of Genesis and that current LDS leadership is unwilling to rock the boat by changing that approach (plus most of them accept it as literal). To many Christians, asking the natural question “so where was the Garden of Eden?” makes as much sense as asking where Middle Earth or the planet Krypton are. Fundamentalist Christians confidently answer, “somewhere in the Middle East.” Conservative Mormons confidently answer, “it’s in Missouri.”
At the same time, these same Mormons (leaders, religion profs, rank and file Mormons) will draw all manner of lessons and meanings from the symbolic features of the Garden narrative: Adam symbolizes or represents mankind, at least all men; the fruit of the tree is the love of God (borrowing from Lehi); and so forth. Yet these same people who take the account so symbolically will react with pious horror if told it is truly a symbolic tale, not a historical account. This fundamentalist, literalist approach to the Garden narrative is more exaggerated in our day. Once upon a time, Mormons were instructed that the Garden account was simply figurative, as far as the man and woman were concerned.
The bottom line is that the vast majority of LDS read Lehi’s dream as a symbolic fictional instructive account of the Plan of Salvation, but read the Garden of Eden account (whether in Genesis or Moses) as a symbolic non-fictional account. That distinction is worth keeping in mind as we compare the two accounts below.
Paradise, Lost and Regained
So let’s look at the 20 pages that Austin devotes to comparing Lehi’s dream to the Genesis Garden account (or, more accurately, reading Lehi’s dream against the Genesis account). It would take 20 pages to do the chapter justice, so I’ll just pick a couple of points.
First, he points out that the Lehi dream is an inversion of the Genesis account. In the Garden, Adam and Eve go from Paradise to the lone and dreary world. They are forbidden to eat the fruit of the Tree of Life. In Lehi’s dream, Lehi moves from a dark and dreary waste (along the path guided by the rod of iron) to get to the Tree of Life. He and others partake of the fruit and are rewarded with joy. They move from wilderness to Paradise, inverting the Garden story. Austin also depicts the two narratives as sequential: Part 1, Paradise Lost (Adam and Eve expelled from the Garden, resulting in mankind’s fallen state); Part 2, Paradise Regained (Lehi and his company, and by extension any reader, can regain Paradise or God’s grace by eating the fruit).
Austin observes that this Book of Mormon retelling or refashioning of the Garden narrative in Lehi’s dream (including modifications in the Moses narrative) doesn’t simply provide a happy ending in place of a tragic fall. As he explains, the Garden narrative features clear commandments and directives (thou shalt not eat of the fruit of that tree) with a resulting punishment (cast out of the Garden). The Mormon narratives are presented differently, in terms of causes and consequences. There’s a tree. If you eat of the fruit, here’s what will happen, but you can choose for yourself. Carry on. The moral context of the Genesis narrative is commandment, shame, and punishment. The moral context of the Mormon narratives is informed free choices, accompanied by the natural consequences thereof. Which moral context do you prefer?
This changed depiction leads to the Mormon version of the fortunate fall, as evident in the Mormon formulation “Adam’s transgression” (a transgression, not really a sin, sort of like a misdemeanor rather than a felony). Austin ties the Mormon view of things to the Pelagian view of sin and redemption in this helpful passage, which I’ll quote and I hope you read:
In Augustine’s time, a British monk named Pelagius gained a large following by teaching a doctrine of the Fall with many similarities to the one developed in the Book of Mormon — including a denial of the concept of original sin. But Pelagius was condemned as a heretic and excommunicated, in part through Augustine’s efforts, and Pelagianism has been considered a heresy for fifteen centuries by nearly all Christian denominations. It is the post-Augustinian interpretive tradition, rather than the text of the Bible itself, that the Book of Mormon disputes. (p. 45-45)
That’s a great point. A lot of Evangelical criticism takes that Augustinian orthodoxy as the basis for criticizing and rejecting LDS doctrine, as laid out above. At the same time, even most Evangelicals don’t buy the whole Augustinian package or even part of it. As far as I can tell, the prosperity gospel is a lot more popular with Evangelicals than Augustine’s view of original sin or Calvin’s view of total depravity and selective election. Evangelicals see Mormons as Pelagians, as latter-day heretics? Well, to put it bluntly, who cares what Evangelicals think? People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw rocks.
A Nod to Historical Criticism
Austin devotes a lengthy discussion to the Mormon view that God gave two contradictory commandments to Adam and Eve in the Garden: multiply and replenish, but don’t eat of the fruit of that tree (the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil). In the Book of Mormon reading, Adam and Eve would have had no children, should have had no children (and by implication could have had no children) had they remained in the Garden. Tough choice. It’s this reading that excuses, in the Mormon view, “Adam’s transgression.” While Austin doesn’t exactly endorse this reading of Genesis, he gives a long discussion detailing the Mormon account.
Here’s where historical criticism, not just literary analysis, needs to be consulted. The problem with the LDS account is that there are two origin stories presented in Genesis. There is the stately and orderly priestly account (from the P source) in Genesis 1 and the Yahwist’s down-to-earth account (from the J source) in Genesis 2 and 3. Canonically, one may read them together in sequence, but these were two separate accounts. The two contradictory commandments were not presented as contradictory in the original sources because there were not presented in the same narrative. Reading them together creates a false sense of contradictory commandments. It is a misreading of the texts, understandable from a traditional reading but not defensible in the light of modern historical critical scholarship. I wish Austin had at least mentioned this in his discussion.
One good source that looks at the LDS view in light of modern scholarship is David Bokovoy’s Authoring the Old Testament: Genesis – Deuteronomy (Greg Kofford Books, 2014). I couldn’t find any mention of that book in any of the footnotes to the chapter, which is surprising because in the Acknowledgements section at the front of the book Austin mentions and thanks Bokovoy, among others, as reading portions of the book before publication and offering helpful feedback. Another good read is Stephen Greenblatt’s The Rise and Fall of Adam and Eve (Norton, 2017), which Austin does reference in the Introduction. And I might as well mention Elaine Pagels’ book The Origin of Satan: How Christians Demonized Jews, Pagans, and Heretics (Vintage Books, 1995), not mentioned by Austin. That book is helpful for understanding that Satan, as a personage and a Christian doctrine, developed over time. In the Hebrew Bible, Satan was a vague and minor figure. He only really took off with Christianity. It is something of an anachronism to place Satan in the Garden narrative. Which, of course, Genesis does not do. That’s a later Christian interpretation and an even later Mormon re-writing of the Garden narrative.
So let’s wind this up with a few items to discuss.
- What do you think of the Garden narrative as presented in Genesis?
- What do you think of the Mormon re-writing of the Garden narrative?
- Did you previously realize the extent to which the Book of Mormon and other LDS sources rewrite the Garden narrative compared to the Genesis text?
- Is the Garden narrative any less meaningful to you if it is a mythical origin story as opposed to a historical account of actual persons and events?
- What do you think of Michael Austin’s commentary on the LDS view of the Garden narrative and Lehi’s dream as an inversion or an extension of the Garden account? (excusing my poor summary of his views — you should read the book and also the footnotes).
Feel free to mention any books or authors that have enlightened your understanding of the LDS view or the scholarly view of the Garden account or Lehi’s dream.
Wheat & Tares 
I think it’s valuable to understand the narratives that the original writers (ancient Mesopotamians, Joseph Smith, possibly nonexistent American Israelites) had in mind when they created them. The Book of Mormon narrative provides another interpretation of the Genesis narrative—one I find interesting and appealing, but not the only or necessarily best one. Michael Austin’s Buried Treasures is helping me understand the meanings that the Book of Mormon’s original audience was probably intended to take from it. But we can get additional value by adding our own narratives. For example, given the connection some have made between Heavenly Mother and the goddess Asherah, I like to think of the tree of knowledge/the tree of life as a symbol for Heavenly Mother. She and Heavenly Father could have planned out the Fall together, or maybe she cleverly usurped his original plan. I doubt anyone had her in mind when Genesis or the Book of Mormon were first written, but I think scriptures do a better job at generating ideas than producing facts.
An aside first. Thanks for posting that awful painting of Adam and Eve in the Garden, fully clothed, which is positively contrary to scripture. They were naked. A strategically well placed bush or tree with branches could have made the picture safe for children. What prudes we can sometimes be.
I have never seen the two trees as the representations of the same tree. I see the Tree of Life in the Garden of Eden as existing, contrasted with the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, but I see the Tree of Life in Lehi’s dream as a representation of a future promise. I positively do not see them as the same tree. Maybe they are, but doctrinally I see no reason to conflate the two into one. I don’t see in Part 2, Paradise Regained, Lehi and his company, and by extension any reader, regaining Paradise or God’s grace by eating the fruit. Instead, I see the Tree of Life in the dream as a representation of the promise of eternal life. Paradise or God’s grace is regained by finding the path, holding to the iron rod, not heeding the people in the great and spacious building, etc.
Great post, with many very good points.
I’m with Georgis.
Awful painting — in addition to clothes, who did Adam’s and Eve’s hair, and why doesn’t Adam have a beard?
I have always understood that picture to represent Adam & Eve exiting the Garden, hence the coats of skin & Adam being clean shaven; he hadn’t had a chance yet to grow it out. So I’ve never had a problem with their outfits, but I did with their race. I highly don’t think they looked like white BYU students circa 1965. I’ve always thought they’d be a composite of all races, looking, in my mind, similar to full-blooded Hawaiians; gorgeous people.
Enjoyed this post.
I’m not so sure that the historicity of Adam, Eve and Eden in the Genesis story is really rooted in a premodern reading of Genesis. Those ancient and medieval folks seemed to quite happily deal with symbols and metaphors. They simply didn’t employ empiricism in their thought processes as readily as we do. Perhaps the overemphasis on empirical historicity came with the Enlightenment, Scientific Revolution and Darwinism?
For the record, scripture is much more edifying to me without attempts to imply it was all historical. For further discussion of this, swing by Ben Spackman’s website, or read John Walton’s books on Genesis.
DM76, I don’t the expulsion from Eden in this picture. That is stretching for me. The scene is too idyllic to be the expulsion. The Church calls this A&E in the Garden of Eden. Painter simply couldn’t bring himself to paint a little skin, even though the topic isn’t sleazy, except in some LDS circles.
Dave, I enjoyed reading the OP. As for my own views–there’s no question that the garden story is symbolic. But I see it as more analogical than purely mythical. In other words–yes–it has a mythical flavor even though it is primarily a symbolic telling of real people, places, times, and events from our deep past.
This is post reminds of a recent post/conversation over at T&S (yes, I read it occasionally. No blog shaming). The main thing I got out of it (besides the fact that that crowd ignores alternative viewpoints), is that conventional/traditional Mormons are kind of in a bind when it comes to the Garden of Eden. They want to believe it was a real place and Adam and Eve were real people to validate Joseph Smith, and they are really committed to this idea. In said blog post, there was a discussion about how to place an actual Adam and Eve somewhere in actual geological deep-time. Yet, really they want it to be symbolic – and specifically symbolic – because of the temple. It it is really hard for them to conceive of the Garden story as just that. A story, a fable, probably a retelling or composite of older stories – even when faced with all the evidence – without seeing that as a threat to their faith. This is not just a Mormon thing, of course. All Christians want to read Christ back into the OT and the Creation story- and sorry, that simply wasn’t the intent of the authors. Mormons, however, have a lot more skin in the game because of the temple and Restoration stuff.
As a side note, I don’t think Mormons have a monopoly on the “Fall” as an overall positive thing. As far as I know, the Hebrew Bible never uses the term “fall.” A contemporary Jewish scholar I was listening to recently described the Garden story as sort of “falling up” fable that describes transitioning from child to adult, as well as developing a more mature relationship with God.
There is actually a fairly long tradition, especially in medieval Christianity, of the felix culpa (fortunate fall). The Fall has a long history of people trying to make it recuperative and ultimately positive (it provides the opportunity for Jesus to redeem us, it demonstrates the forward thinking of God, etc.). I think mat’s right in that Mormons are in a bit of a bind about the Garden; in my view, that’s partly because of how much Mormons tend to fetishize obedience. Once you abandon the absurd notion that “obedience is the first law of Heaven”, and that God actually wanted Adam and Eve to start morally reasoning for themselves, it becomes easier to see what mat notes at the end of his comment; that it’s really a story about just maturing and transitioning into a being who is capable of exercising more complex moral judgements.
Of course, it’s still a bit troubling (and this is another place where Mormons don’t like to go) that the God of Genesis seems to be, in the words of one of my students, the ultimate gaslighter. It’s obvious, for example, who permitted the serpent to gain entrance to the garden. Mormons have a very hard time seeing the OT God for the manipulator that he is. Milton solved this issue by ending Paradise Lost at the moment where Adam and Eve were cut off from God and ultimately saw it as an opportunity:
Some natural tears they dropt, but wiped them soon;
The world was all before them, where to choose
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide:
They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow,
Through Eden took their solitary way.
So, they’re sad to be leaving Eden, but they recognize that even a fallen world has possibilities that they couldn’t even begin to dream of or enact while they resided in the garden. Some of what happens in the garden might be easier for Mormons to reconcile if they took Milton’s view.
I don’t think we’re in a bind–at least I don’t feel that way. While it’s certainly true that the garden story points towards a maturing process of sorts–that’s not to say that it should be interpreted only in a way that speaks to our experience in mortality. It is a cosmic narrative–and as such our earthly existence becomes a reflection of the larger story. And so the symbolism employed in the telling has as much or more to do with conveying elements that are “otherworldly” than abstract ideas from this sphere. And it’s our privilege to have the meaning behind the analogues unfolded to us as fast as we’re able to receive it.
I like that in our Mormon Adam and Eve art, it’s okay for Adam’s skins dress to show his knees, but not Eve’s.
The first time I went to the temple, I thought that I’d prefer a skins dress to garments, for comfort’s sake.
Regarding the painting, it very much reflects the modesty standards of today. If the painting would have been done in 1890 – 1960 would the clothing of skins reached to their ankles and wrists like the temple garments of those days? If you are old enough, do you remember putting on the “genuine” temple garments that covered the legs completely when you went into the temple?
To me the corollary to Lehi’s dream is Jesus’s Parable of the Sower. In that parable Jesus describes seed being scattered and the seed grows or withers based on the environment of the seed. Seed that is properly nourished flourishes and produces much fruit. What is true for Lehi’s dream and the Parable of the Sower is that agency is granted to the individual in whether the person seeks God and takes proper care to learn and treasure God’s word.
The Garden of Eden story lacks Agency. The LDS versions of the Garden of Eden assert that Adam & Eve exercised Agency in choosing to eat the fruit of knowledge of good and evil but this requires the making of assumptions. It is absolutely true that Adam & Eve experienced Accountability for their choice to eat. What is never explained is the choice Adam & Eve actually had! By everything presented in LDS theology eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil was the only choice Adam & Eve could make. If something is the only choice, then it is not a choice. The only Agency one has in that situation is when, not if.
Joseph Smith in the translation of the Bible (JST) produced an expanded narrative of the Garden of Eden story that we find in the Book of Moses in the Pearl of Great Price. This narrative explains that Adam & Eve, after leaving the Garden, were taught and accepted the Gospel of Christ. The narrative does not clarify what Adam & Eve were doing in the Garden other than waiting to be persuaded by Satan to eat the fruit.
Lehi in the Book of Mormon teaches that Adam & Eve were damned in the Garden – they could not progress, they could not experience pleasure or pain or joy or sadness. They could not have children. According to Lehi, the Garden is not the great place described in the Genesis or JST narratives. If I put myself in the place of Adam & Eve I see myself getting bored to tears in the Garden and wishing to do anything to get out. The great question is this: If Adam & Eve were “walking with God” in the Garden, why did they lean on Satan to get them out of the Garden? This puzzle is not addressed anywhere in LDS theology. Not in scripture. Not in the Temple.
Another problem with the LDS Garden of Eden story and the principle of Agency is that we are told Adam & Eve were ignorant in the Garden. Since Agency requires Intelligence / Knowledge, it cannot be claimed Adam & Eve had Agency when they ate the fruit of the tree, unless they were fully taught of the choice they had. LDS theology waves the hand on what Adam & Eve were taught.
It is a strange thing in LDS theology that the Fall of Adam is taught as an absolutely good and necessary thing, but credit for the Fall is given to Satan. In my simple mind it makes far more sense of God to offer the choice to Adam & Eve to leave the Garden, and for Adam & Eve to exercise their Agency to make that choice, at which point they enter the mortal world and experience opposition. But this version of the Garden story removes Satan and for some reason it is seen as necessary to insert Satan into the Garden and make him the catalyst for Adam & Eve leaving the Garden.