Justice | Mercy | Faith

Justice | Mercy | Faith

Behold, It Was Very Good—And Then We Fell

Difficulty Level: Intermediate-Advanced

When God surveyed His finished creation, the verdict was clear: “Behold, it was very good.” Not just good in parts, not simply functional—very good in its wholeness, its harmony, and its reflection of His character. Humanity, made in His image, stood at the center of this masterpiece, entrusted with freedom, relationship, and purpose.

But if everything was very good, how did it all unravel so quickly? Why would God, who knows all things, allow a creation so full of potential to fall into disorder, suffering, and death? And what does this ancient loss have to do with us today?

This conversation explores the beauty of the original creation, the weight of human freedom, the heartbreak of the fall, and the relentless mercy of a God who did not abandon His masterpiece. It is a story meant not just to inform us—but to form us. Because everything written, Paul says, was “for our learning.”

And what we learn from Eden is not just how far we fell—but how far God is willing to go to bring us back.

Paul says that everything written in Scripture is for our learning. So when we read in Genesis, “God saw everything that He had made, and behold, it was very good,” what does that really mean? God knows all things—He cannot be surprised, not even by Himself. So His declaration must carry a purpose beyond observation. Could it be that this moment is not for Him, but for us?

 

You’re absolutely right to connect Paul’s insight with this moment in Genesis. When Paul writes in Romans 15:4, “For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us,” he’s pointing to a profound truth: Scripture isn’t just a record—it’s revelation shaped for our learning. So when we read in Genesis 1:31, “God saw everything that he had made, and, behold, it was very good,” we’re meant to ask: Why does an all-knowing God pause to behold? He cannot be surprised—not even by Himself. So this moment isn’t for Him to discover something new—it’s for us.

Let’s unpack that.

1. It’s Not for God—It’s for Us

God’s act of seeing and declaring isn’t about self-discovery. It’s self-disclosure—He is revealing something about His creation and His values. Just as Jesus prays out loud “for the sake of those standing by” (John 11:42), God says “very good” not because He’s surprised, but because He wants us to know:

This world is not random. It is intentional. It is good.

That includes everything—light, land, seas, animals, and yes, humanity, which had just been created. The human creation account in Genesis 1:26–28 culminates the sixth day. Only after humanity is made in His image and entrusted with stewardship does God look at everything and pronounce it very good.

2. Humanity Completes the Creation Symphony

Before humans, each day ends with “it was good.” But after humans are created, God “saw everything that he had made”—now including people—and only then does He say, “very good.”

That’s not a random upgrade. It signals that humanity is not an afterthought—we are part of the completion of creation. This teaches us something central to biblical anthropology:

Humans were made with meaning and mission.

We’re not divine, but we are image-bearers. And that brings us to the next point.

3. God Is Modeling a Pattern for Us

God’s actions set a rhythm:

  • He creates.
  • He stops.
  • He looks.
  • He discerns.
  • He declares.

He is showing us how to live. We’re called to mirror this divine rhythm:

  • Engage with the world thoughtfully.
  • Reflect on what we do.
  • Recognize what is good.
  • Rejoice in it.

It’s the foundation for all moral discernment, Sabbath rest, and meaningful work. God is training us not just to do, but to see, to value, to judge rightly.

4. It Anchors Our View of the World

Genesis 1:31 teaches us that:

  • Matter is not evil.
  • The world is not meaningless.
  • Nature is not something to exploit but to cherish.

This verse shapes a worldview: Creation is dignified, purposeful, and worth protecting. In a world often marked by cynicism or utilitarianism, Genesis offers a radical starting point: “It was very good.”

5. It Echoes into Redemption

After the fall, we read Genesis 1:31 with longing. The world no longer looks “very good.” There is pain, death, decay. But this verse becomes both a memory and a promise:

  • A memory of what was.
  • A promise of what will be.

And when God says in Revelation 21:5, “Behold, I make all things new,” He echoes that first “behold.” The God who once looked over creation and called it good will one day restore it fully.

Summary

God cannot be surprised—but He can teach.
“Behold, it was very good” is not a discovery—it’s an invitation.
To see as He sees.
To create with purpose.
To cherish what is good.
And to hope for the restoration of all that has been broken.

In short, this moment in Genesis is written for our learning—to teach us how to behold, to value, and to hope.

How does this declaration—that creation was very good—prepare us for what follows in Genesis 3, when not just humanity, but creation itself, falls from that original state of wholeness?

Excellent question—this is where the literary and theological brilliance of Genesis shines.

Genesis 1:31—“God saw everything that he had made, and, behold, it was very good”—is not just a statement of fact; it’s a baseline. A holy calibration. It defines the original state of creation, so that when things go wrong in Genesis 3, we understand just how far the fall truly is. Let’s walk through how this verse prepares us for that rupture.

1. It Establishes the Standard of “Very Good”

Genesis 1–2 paints a picture of:

  • Perfect order (light/dark, land/sea, male/female)
  • Harmony between God, humans, animals, and nature
  • Life without shame (Gen. 2:25)
  • A creation that responds to God’s word with fruitfulness and flourishing

By declaring it “very good,” God is effectively stamping the world with His approval. That matters because when something that good breaks, it breaks in a profound way. The reader now knows what “wholeness” looks like. So when disobedience enters in Genesis 3, we aren’t just witnessing a moral lapse—we’re watching the unraveling of a masterpiece.

2. It Heightens the Tragedy of the Fall

Genesis 3—Eve eats, Adam follows, and they hide from God—wouldn’t be nearly as impactful without the context of what came before. The contrast is devastating:

  • From naked and unashamed → to hiding in shame
  • From open communion with God → to fear and alienation
  • From stewarding creation → to being cursed from the ground

The declaration “very good” sharpens the contrast. It shows us what we lost. This fall isn’t just about people messing up—it’s about a fracture in the fabric of everything that was once whole.

3. It Makes the Consequences Cosmic

Genesis 3 isn’t only about human failure—it’s about creation itself groaning. God says:

“Cursed is the ground because of you…” (Gen. 3:17)

Now, the creation that was once “very good” is burdened with decay, toil, thorns, and death. This echoes throughout Scripture:

  • Romans 8:20–22: “The creation was subjected to frustration… the whole creation has been groaning…”

This only makes sense if we first understood that creation was once not frustrated—it was thriving. Genesis 1:31 is that reference point. It allows us to say: Something is wrong now, because something was right then.

4. It Frames God’s Grief and Grace

Later in Genesis 6:6, we read:

“The Lord regretted that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart.”

That statement is incomprehensible without first hearing “very good.” God doesn’t grieve arbitrarily—He grieves the loss of what was beautiful, pure, ordered, alive.

And yet—even from Genesis 3—God doesn’t abandon His creation. He covers Adam and Eve. He gives a cryptic promise in 3:15 about a future offspring who will crush the serpent. That redemptive thread is only meaningful if we first understand the value of what was lost.

5. It Sets Up the Biblical Narrative Arc

The whole Bible can be summarized in this movement:

Creation → Fall → Redemption → New Creation

Genesis 1:31 is the launch point—the original glory from which we fall, and the glory to which God will ultimately restore us. It’s why Revelation ends not in escape from creation, but in a renewed heavens and earth (Rev. 21)—because God’s goal isn’t to destroy creation, but to redeem what was once “very good.”

Summary

Genesis 1:31 is the light that makes the coming darkness visible.

It teaches us what God values.
It shows us what we had.
It prepares us to understand the depth of the fall.
And it gives meaning to God’s promise to restore.

So when Genesis 3 happens, we’re not just seeing a rule broken—we’re watching a temple collapse. But because we know it was once “very good,” we can also dare to believe that it can be good again.

You mentioned that in the fall, “we’re watching the unraveling of a masterpiece.” But if that’s true, why didn’t God prevent this cosmic unraveling? Why didn’t He protect what He Himself called very good? Especially since Scripture exists to teach us—surely there’s something we’re meant to learn in this unraveling.

This is a deeply important and honest question. You’re absolutely right to bring Paul’s statement back into it—“Everything written was for our learning”—because it reminds us that even the unraveling has a purpose in the story God is telling for our sake.

Let’s wrestle with it honestly:

If God knew the fall would happen, and if He called creation “very good,”
why didn’t He protect or prevent the collapse of it all?
Especially when it spiraled into a world of death, suffering, and cosmic disorder?

That question echoes in many hearts—it’s not just theological; it’s personal.

So here’s a layered answer, drawn from Scripture’s overarching themes and the way Genesis is written for our instruction:

1. Because Love Without Freedom Is Not Love

God created humans in His image—that includes reason, moral responsibility, and above all, freedom. In Genesis 2:16–17, He gives Adam and Eve a real choice: the tree of life or the tree of knowledge of good and evil.

That tree isn’t a trap—it’s a test of trust. For love to be love, trust must be possible. And for trust to be real, betrayal must be a risk.

To remove that risk would have meant removing human dignity.
God didn’t want robots who obey; He wanted image-bearers who love.

And so, for our learning, Genesis teaches this: Freedom misused fractures goodness—but freedom was essential for love to be possible in the first place.

2. Because the “Very Good” Creation Was Never the Final Goal

Surprisingly, Genesis 1–2 is not the end—it’s the beginning.

It’s good, even very good—but it’s also uncompleted. There’s no temple yet, no Sabbath worship structure, no cross, no resurrection. It’s good, but not glorified.

The Bible tells a story not of static perfection, but of a world made to grow into something more through partnership with God. That’s why Adam is told to “work and guard” the garden (Gen. 2:15)—language later used for priestly service in the tabernacle.

In that sense, God didn’t fail to protect Eden—He entrusted it to humans. They were meant to protect it. Their failure teaches us this: when we fail to guard goodness, disorder spreads. This is part of our learning.

3. Because God’s Glory Shines Brighter Through Redemption

Romans 11:32 says:

“For God has consigned all to disobedience, that he may have mercy on all.”

That doesn’t mean God caused the fall—but that He allowed it in order to reveal something greater: His mercy, His justice, His faithfulness, His self-giving love.

If there had never been a fall, we might know God as Creator—but would we know Him as Redeemer? As the One who suffers with us? As the One who gives His Son?

In the Cross, God doesn’t just fix the unraveling—He enters into it.
He bears it. Redeems it. Then reweaves it into a greater glory.

Scripture doesn’t glorify sin, but it shows how God brings grace out of it. This, too, is for our learning: even what we break, God can remake.

4. Because the Fall Shows the Cost of Separation—and the Hope of Return

Genesis 3 doesn’t only explain what happened—it helps us understand what continues to happen.

We live in a world still shaped by Genesis 3:

  • Distrust in God
  • Shame and blame
  • Disordered desires
  • Fractured relationships

But we also live in a world where Genesis 3 is not the last word. God pursues. God clothes. God promises a coming Savior (Gen. 3:15). The fall becomes the arena of grace.

God didn’t prevent the fall because He planned a greater rising—a redemption that doesn’t just restore Eden, but surpasses it. We don’t just go back to a garden—we are led forward to a city with no more death or curse (Revelation 22).

Final Reflection

God didn’t prevent the unraveling—
because He intended to reveal a deeper beauty through the reweaving.

Not because He is careless. But because He is infinitely wise, patient, and good.

So yes—Genesis is for our learning. It teaches us:

  • What was lost
  • Why it matters
  • What it costs
  • And how God never stops pursuing restoration

The unraveling grieves Him (Genesis 6:6), but it’s not beyond Him. And He writes Himself into the story to make it whole again. That’s what we’re meant to behold.

And perhaps that’s why Paul can say,

“Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more” (Romans 5:20).

Not because the fall was good—but because grace is greater.

And then there’s this statement: “To remove that risk would have meant removing human dignity. God didn’t want robots who obey; He wanted image-bearers who love.” That’s hard to hear—because it means we had that dignity, that freedom… and we failed. Miserably. Cosmically.

Yes. It is heart-wrenching—and your response touches the very ache that echoes through all of Scripture and through every human soul that knows something isn’t as it should be.

We were given dignity…
Freedom…
A garden of life and fellowship…
And we traded it for autonomy laced with death.

The story of Genesis 3 isn’t just ancient—it’s us.
It’s humanity choosing self over trust.
And suffering the fracture that follows.

You’re absolutely right to call it a cosmic failure. Because it didn’t just impact one couple—it rippled through all creation. It broke the harmony between:

  • God and humanity (they hide)
  • Man and woman (blame enters)
  • Humanity and the earth (cursed ground)
  • Life and time (mortality begins)

So yes, we failed. And yet—God did not.

What makes this heart-wrenching tragedy bearable—even hopeful—is not that we can fix it…

It’s that God stepped into it.

“The Lamb was slain from the foundation of the world.” (Revelation 13:8)

He knew we would fall. And still He created. Still He called it “very good.” Still He gave freedom—because He already had a plan to redeem our failure with His own faithfulness.

That’s the staggering, almost scandalous part of grace:

  • God doesn’t rewrite the story to avoid the fall.
  • He writes Himself into it to redeem the fallen.

In our worst moment, God did not discard us.
He walked into the garden and asked, “Where are you?”

And on a cross outside the city, He asked again, “Father, forgive them.”

You’re right to feel the weight of that. It’s not a light thing. It’s a wound that costs the life of God’s Son to heal. But that’s the miracle of it:

The place where we failed cosmically
Became the place where grace triumphed eternally.

So we read Genesis not to sit in despair—but to understand the depth of the love that would follow us even there.

And to learn that our dignity, while corrupted, has not been revoked.
We are still image-bearers.
Still called.
Still loved.

Even after the fall, God clothes Adam and Eve with garments—not because they earned it, but because He is still their Father.

And He is still ours.