The Fall - By Chana Keefer

CHAPTER Eight

It Is Good



Rapha is staring with unseeing eyes toward distant fires and sounds of chaos. How he has wished through thousands of painful years he could have stopped time to hold them in that place of innocence. All too soon the purity of those days was a golden phantom to taunt him with what might have been.

Although—he cannot help but smile—they did have good times.


With the addition of the female, Adam’s education took flight. Her appetite for learning was voracious and her curiosity was unrelenting. Oh the hundreds of questions she asked every day!

“Why do we have to eat and you don’t?” “What makes the honeybee want to sip from the flowers when he could fly over the hills and see so much more?” “How do the stars stay up in the sky?” “How high would I have to fly to touch them?” “Have you ever touched them?” “Why don’t we have a tail to help us climb trees?” “Where does the sun go at night?”

And she was forever digging. The girl had an innate curiosity about hidden things; the roots of flowers and trees, rocks under soil, little creatures that lived beneath logs and small, quick beings that thrived in the dark quiet of cool caverns.

On the surface, Adam appeared to attend more than ever to his studies, but actually he was distracted. As her finger traced the words on the scrolls, Adam nudged closer so her hair brushed his cheek. As they stood pondering the path of the moon that rose even though the sun was yet high in the sky, Adam’s attention wandered. With a grin, Rapha grasped the young man’s head, turning it toward a lunar view once again.

Rapha was their constant tutor and chaperone but he knew his angelic approval was no longer the one most coveted by Adam. Now the young man was spurred on by a driving competition with the female. Her admiration, next to that of Adonai, was his most treasured reward. Each of the young humans had their strengths; he excelled in narrative detail while she was able to grasp deeper meaning behind a story; he was the faster swimmer and runner but she had the greater stamina; she was the one the animals sought for comfort while Adam was prized for rambunctious play; but they each strove to improve where the other excelled. She inspired his former unenthusiastic study of things that grew out of the ground while he encouraged her interest in the cosmos.

Rapha was fascinated by their complementary personalities. She had a gentling influence on the boy when he desired to test his physical limits since she was sure to attempt whatever he did; and he made her laugh when she tended to take herself too seriously. It was a perfect blend, with each encouraging the other toward balance and wholeness. It gave them vulnerability and strength, helping Rapha understand why Adonai would take the risk of making two separate beings so interdependent. In fact, it even caused him to question if the angels’ wholeness could be viewed as weakness in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps if Lucifer had been a bit vulnerable, his pride might not have been his undoing?

Their discussions about history became fascinating. The two humans brought fresh perspective to tales experienced and re-told by Rapha for millennia.

But sometimes the discussion hit a little too close to danger for Rapha’s comfort. The memory of their inquisitive young faces as the angel attempted to describe how his physiognomy differed from theirs was so clear the conversation could have taken place yesterday. That day the young humans had raced up their favorite summit to join the angel by the clear mountain stream for another history lesson. Usually the climb helped to curb some of their energetic nature but this time she had won the race and Adam was accusing her of foul play. The interchange was creating anything but a teachable moment.

“You just don’t want to admit I beat you fair and square,” she laughed, tossing her hair back from flushed cheeks.

“You cheated!” Adam stated. In truth, he was too stirred by her flashing eyes and smile to even care about the race. “You tripped and I slowed to help you. If you hadn’t let go of that branch at the perfect moment to knock me down—”

“There! You admit it!” She poked Adam’s shoulder. “You were already losing or you would not have seen me trip.”

“I was being chivalrous by letting you keep up,” he returned the poke.

“Besides, it just goes to show what Rapha says, ‘the race doesn’t always go to the merely swift,’” she paraphrased liberally to goad him. “Strategy is more important than might.”

“So you admit you cheated!” He leaned into her face, inhaling the scent of honeysuckle and herbed oils.

“I never said that!” her hand had been trailing in the stream in preparation for a drink, but she decided on a better use. With a flick of her fingers the water splashed in his face, transforming the smug expression as excitement lit his handsome features. In an instant the splash had turned into a full-blown water free-for-all.

It was both amusing and alarming to view the sexual tension between the young man and woman when they still had no real grasp of where it was leading. No stretching of Rapha’s angelic emotional probing was necessary to recognize the obvious. If left to their own devices, this innocent tussle would follow the natural course of the lions’ wrestling match.

One of his most important directives was to prevent such an occurrence until Adonai proclaimed the proper time, therefore Rapha placed himself between the youthful combatants, breaking the inevitable force that drew the ocean to the shore. He was rewarded for his efforts by becoming their mutual target. He endured the soaking for a moment, then shut down the assault by summoning a strong wave that swept them both off their feet.

Soon the dripping, bedraggled trio flopped to the grass in the warm sun, the humans wringing water from their hair while Rapha shook his head as the heat of his body reduced liquid to steam. Soon he was dry while they continued to drip.

Luckily, this difference triggered her incessant curiosity and shifted the focus of the moment. Unfortunately, Rapha ever after questioned whether his answers could have been delivered in a way less inclined to intrigue.

“So what, exactly, are you made of?” The girl watched the steam rise above Rapha, fascination in her penetrating gaze.

“I am a creature of light and spirit,” Rapha answered.

“But I can’t grasp a ray of sunlight. How are we able to touch you?” She reached to squeeze his arm.

“All matter can be reduced to a flimsier substance; and all matter, if condensed to a high enough degree, can be solid.”

Something about that answer intrigued Adam enough to take his focus off the girl. “So when you go away, are you becoming a flimsier substance?”

“I suppose it could be viewed that way.”

“Can you teach us to do that?”

“It is much more difficult to reduce earth to a malleable state.…” before Rapha could finish, another question was fired, this time by the girl.

“Is it difficult for you to become… solid again?”

“It has always been a simple concept for me….”

“Can you teach us to do that?”

“That ability is not part of Adonai’s plan for….”

“It must be amazing. Are you aware of everything while you’re, um, malleable?”

“The core of my being, my spirit, remains intact, therefore I have no lapse in….”

The girl leapt to her feet and spread her arms wide, “How wonderful to feel so free!”

“The feeling of freedom does not rely on my material state.”

Adam cut in, pondering a different aspect. “Are there females like you?”

That caught the girl’s attention. She stopped spinning, her eyes riveted on Rapha.

“Ah! There’s a difficult question… actually, no.”

“Have you never requested a mate? As you told me, Adonai will give you whatever you ask…”

“…in accordance with His will,” Rapha finished, hoping the conversation could be steered from the rocky shoal that lay ahead. “Adonai guides our desires and….”

“Why have you never requested a female?” Her voice was steady as her eyes searched his.

“Please understand, while we look similar in elemental ways our… requirements… are dissimilar.” Rapha sighed. He was handling this poorly. “Like the animals that surround you, you and Adam will one day have offspring. Due to our unchanging nature, there is no need for celestials to reproduce.”

“So, in your… society… I am unnecessary.”

There it was. The conversation capsized. “That word is inaccurate in this context….”

She didn’t miss a beat, “Then aid my inaccuracy. What word would fit?”

The edge in her voice was heartbreaking. He hated the fact that his answers had wounded her, but how could he explain something he hardly understood himself? “Please, perhaps these questions should be directed to Adonai….”

“Why? The question is simple. Am I only necessary for bearing offspring?”

“No! Adonai created you to strengthen mankind,” if only he had stopped right there, the moment might have been salvaged, “and… and for you to be—strengthened together.” Rapha raked a frustrated hand through his hair. Why couldn’t he make any sense while those wide eyes were fixed on him?

“So Adam was incomplete without me?”

“Well, no. And yes. I mean, you are both complete, but it is a matter of—fulfillment.” There. That sounded better. “And reproduction, of course.”

“Will we ever be more like you? Will we ever be able to become—malleable—and perhaps fly?”

If Rapha’s own emotional state had not been so jumbled he might have read her intent. But he was so glad the conversation had landed on safer ground, he unwittingly ensnared himself. “If mankind grows in harmony with Adonai, nothing will be impossible.…”

“And one day my kind will no longer be necessary for offspring?”

“What? No! That is not what I meant….”

But she had added the known facts and assumed the inevitable. “So it’s only because Adam is less… developed… that I am needed.”

Rapha rushed to redeem the moment. “I am discovering daily the wisdom of Adonai’s plan in creating two individuals who complement and strengthen each other,” he rushed on, though he could tell that her jumbled thoughts were not absorbing his words. “I often wonder if our angelic… completeness… might even be viewed as a weakness… and whether interdependence is actually a strength….”

Adam jumped in, “I would never want to be without you. If being like a celestial means leaving you behind I will remain as I am.” His hopes to score points with his tender speech were dashed.

“That is ridiculous, Adam. Do you think I would thwart Adonai’s plan?”

“No! That’s not what I meant…” He spluttered, echoing Rapha’s predicament.

The girl jumped to her feet and started walking away. After one helpless look at each other they clambered to join her, but she stopped, rolling her eyes in frustration. “Please, I want to be alone.”

She pushed through the trees as Rapha and Adam stood blinking. When the angel probed the girl’s emotions he encountered confusion; she desired to be alone and yet was lonely. He walked to the black leopard that usually shadowed her. Rousing the cat from slumber he held the animal’s gaze, communicating his request, then watched the sleek animal follow the girl’s path. Hopefully, by sending the cat he had provided a subtle presence that would soothe her. Besides, he had noticed a natural aversion among the animals to Lucifer’s presence and, while he didn’t want to voice his fears to Adam, he felt better knowing the animal’s instincts would accompany her. But just to be safe, Rapha kept his awareness open to the girl. If she felt threatened in any way, he would know it.

In a few moments his watchfulness relaxed. She was with the Maker. He could feel the hard knot of hurt unravel as her confusion disappeared.

He took note of the words that finally brought peace to her heart.

“My wholeness—justice and mercy, love and discipline, beauty, and might—is too great, too complex, to be present only in man. Your offspring will better understand Me and the reflection of My holiness is more complete, when the two become one.”

Their conversation continued, deepening her understanding of her destiny, of the balance and strength she would contribute. Like the tiny roots that hold the soil together and yet keep it broken and fertile, she was indispensable.

“Thank you, Adonai,” Rapha exhaled with relief and passed on the news to Adam who celebrated by climbing the cliff. For Adam, emotions required a physical outlet.


Later that day, their delicate balance restored, Rapha watched as the young man and woman made their way to the evening’s rendezvous with Adonai. Each brought a gift, something that was most precious to them. On the girl’s forearm perched a large, brightly plumed parrot, which she had succeeded in teaching several words and phrases. With pride she brought the bird forth, encouraging it with rewards of seeds to show off its skills as the animals pressed around their Maker, nuzzling His hands, climbing on His shoulders or leaning as close as possible with unabashed adoration. Each brought something—a piece of fruit, a rock, a flower—whatever they deemed most valuable.

Even the trees leaned closer and a shower of blossoms fell on the path creating a confetti-strewn carpet for His feet. A large, lumbering sea turtle with a mollusk held in its hooked mouth moved as quickly as its bulky body would allow, inching closer and closer, vying for attention. One female chimp chattered, her voice rising in volume until Adonai turned toward her and laid a hand to her wrinkled, brown face. With unblinking trust she swung her baby from her back and, with the slightest glance of longing toward her child, she held it toward Adonai.

A hush fell among the animals as the large, bright hands cradled the baby and the Maker snuggled it closer to deliver a kiss to its forehead. Adonai whispered in its ear, gave one more hug, then His eyes fell on the mother who looked on with brimming eyes. The smile He gave her was blinding; each one present was rendered speechless by the intensity of love that flowed between them.

“This shall not be forgotten,” His words radiated throughout the clearing. He reached an arm toward the mother who chattered and leapt to His side. Absolute silence prevailed except in the circle of His arms where the breathtaking drama was taking place. He held them close for a moment as tears ran down His cheeks. The mother whimpered and nestled closer while the baby appeared stupefied, one tiny hand grasping a fold of His robe.

“The gift is received, a living sacrifice, holy and eternal.” With another kiss, He knelt to place the mother on the ground and then handed the baby back into her arms. As Adonai turned to attend to others, both chimps continued to glow, encased in His light.

Adam had yet to present his gift, the large diamond he and Rapha had used for their game, polished to a brilliant sheen. Now he hesitated. But Adonai beckoned to him and the boy stepped forward to bow and offer his sacrifice. Rapha sensed that Adam had hoped to increase his gift’s importance with a pompous presentation, but all it accomplished was to accentuate the contrast between his offering of a gem when the simpler creature had handed over her heart.

However, Adonai embraced the boy, and then held the precious stone aloft. Stars of light danced, transforming the clearing into a magical, glittering prism. A lion cub pounced and chased the points of light and the girl laughed at its play and even joined the pursuit. While the other creatures were distracted by the game, Adam knelt, a grateful smile lighting up his face. “Thank you, Adonai, for transforming my gift into something that brings joy to all.”

The Maker’s reply was inaudible but crystal clear to Rapha as it was written onto the boy’s heart. “I am not greedy. I only desire that My good gifts never separate us.”

Adam’s eyes were drawn to the laughing girl, desire and love etched on his features. When he looked back into Adonai’s eyes, he could not hold the penetrating gaze for long.

Rapha shuddered. Lucifer would be seeking just such a weakness, just such a chink in Adam’s armor. He met the Maker’s eye. Yes, they would address this at the earliest opportunity.


The next day, Rapha tried to prepare them for the inevitable—an encounter with Lucifer.

The two young people were climbing a huge tree, grappling for handholds in their ongoing efforts to outdo each other. The girl was able to climb higher, her lesser weight making it possible to navigate the topmost branches. To deepen the drama of the moment she let go and inched along the thin branch, hands held out for balance.

“Okay, I’m very impressed. Now stop,” Adam’s voice had a commanding edge.

Rapha sensed the girl was pleased with Adam’s concern. In fact, her present mood bordered on giddiness as she wavered and her foot slipped. In truth, the little faker was in no danger and had the balance of a cat, but she loved to tease and could not help bursting into giggles when Adam gasped and crouched on his branch as if prepared to dive to her rescue.

Rapha climbed to join them, not shaking a single branch or leaf with his passage.

“What a showoff!” the girl pronounced. “But it is nice to know with Rapha around someone would catch me if I actually did fall.”

“Still, perhaps it’s wise to not push the limits.” Adam’s voice sounded a bit pompous even to Rapha.

The girl snorted, “This from the one who slipped this morning attempting three back flips from the highest ledge! You seemed awfully grateful to have an angel on hand.”

“It was worth it to hear you scream my name,” he took on a feminine tone, “Oh! Adam!”

The girl blushed. “Well, now you know how it feels.” She stole a glance at him through lowered lashes.

Adam’s heart pounded so hard Rapha could feel it throb through the branch where he perched. Heaven help them if the girl ever realized the true extent of the power she possessed.

Eager to change the subject, she looked out to the lands that stretched beyond their domain on the other side of the garden’s wall. “Just how far does the land go? Does it end where the sky begins?”

“No. If you were to stand at that place, you would see yet more land stretching to another point that seems to reach the sky, then another, then another, following a gentle curve until finally, after many, many times, you would end up right back here.”

The girl’s brow puckered a moment, then she laughed, “You’re teasing, right? Can you imagine animals on the other side standing upside down?”

“Just because you cannot imagine something does not make it false,” Rapha said.

“Alright,” her eyes took on a calculating gleam. “Take me flying. Show me the other side.”

“Hey! She’s not going anywhere without me!” Adam protested.

“We are not allowed to take you outside these walls.”

“So,” she said with a pout, “we’ll never get to explore what’s out there?”

“I do not perceive everything Adonai has in store.”

She pondered a loophole. “We can just dig down until we reach it! We need never go outside the wall!”

Rapha smiled. If only things were so simple. “Do you see how far it is until the earth and sky meet?” He gestured toward the horizon, “Could you dig that far?”

“Well….” she hated to admit defeat. “If we worked long and hard enough….”

“Through solid rock?”

“Oh.” Even her irrepressible will could see his logic.

Adam said, “I don’t see why we should be so desperate to explore the outside. Look around. We could explore for years and never see everything within these walls. Besides, is there another place in all the earth as beautiful as this?”

“No. Adonai has seen to your every need and desire. He has even provided those who can answer your questions about the outside.”

“So what is out there?” she asked as her hungry eyes scanned the horizon.

“The rest of creation; the other men, animals, birds of the air, inhabitants of the water, and things that grow from the ground. These, as you can see, are not the only trees; and every animal has those of its kind outside the garden.”

“Then why were we separated from them, these other men and animals? Do these walls hold us in or keep something bad out?”

Rapha regarded her a moment as he sent a silent plea to Adonai for wisdom. “Actually, the greatest threat is also within these walls.”

That got their attention. Both young people stared at him until a light dawned in her head. “Oh. I remember. You said we are our own worst enemy when we, uh,” she scrunched her forehead, “‘want what Adonai has not put in our reach’ or something like that.”

“No, it was, ‘led astray by their evil desires,’ and you were talking about what caused the wars between God and His creation.” Adam shot a satisfied smile her way.

“Good. You listened. But that is not the enemy to which I refer.”

“The creature in the lake?” The boy wondered, unable to conceive anything more dangerous than that.

“This evil one desires to discover your greatest weakness and lure you to destroy yourself,” Rapha said. “He will manipulate your highest aspiration and make it your master.” As Rapha’s description continued, the sun dimmed and the joyful chirp and chatter around them grew silent. “Then he will devour you as slowly and excruciatingly as possible, feeding on your tortured mind and soul until life becomes a constant torment.”

Rapha hated the effect of his words on the young faces before him. Revulsion shadowed their brows but there was also, playing across their faces, something which concerned him much more—a gleam of fascination. Words like “torment” and “devour” had no context for them. Even the larger animals in the garden feasted on plants, nutmeats, and fruit. None were prey. How could they comprehend Lucifer when they could not even grasp the words to describe him?

“Do you speak of Lucifer?” Adam’s voice was low, almost reverent. When Rapha nodded they both leaned closer.

“Is it true he can bend others to his will just by the sound of his voice?” her eyes blazed with curiosity.

“He makes what serves him best sound best for all,” Rapha answered. “He is very… seductive.”

“But you used that word when describing mating,” Adam blurted. Immediately a deeper red lit his cheeks, and his eyes, when he turned to her, were warm with anticipation.

“Alright you two. Pay attention,” Rapha said with mock severity. “The word ‘seduce’ can also imply ‘tempting to do wrong.’”

Their brows furrowed in tandem. The young people had no experience with falsehood or trickery beyond a friendly jest. How could he make them understand?

“Outside these walls,” Rapha began, “animals and humans devour each other, the strong prey on the weak and… horrible things happen.”

“No. Adonai would never allow it,” the girl stated.

“Understand. This is not what Adonai created. Long ago, Lucifer seduced mankind. He tricked them. They chose his corruption in return for power.”

“But why didn’t Adonai stop him?” Adam asked.

“What? Force Lucifer to obedience? Is that Adonai’s way?”

“Well, no, but Adonai knows everything, right? Why would He create Lucifer when he knew he would cause so much trouble?”

“What Adonai created was good. Lucifer was His beloved child, like you.”

Adam’s mouth gaped. “No. I would never be Adonai’s enemy.”

“There was a time I would not have believed it of Lucifer,” Rapha said, his face twisting with grief at the memory of that glorious head resting against Adonai’s breast.

“How did it happen?” The girl’s voice was no more than a whisper.

How did one answer a question like that? How could young, simple minds understand emotions that took eons to evolve? Rapha took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “Lucifer could not conceive of a love that is truly endless. He resented anyone and anything that gained Adonai’s favor—as if that regard stole from him.”

“But how could he dwell with Adonai and yet not understand Him?”

“It is never that simple,” Rapha answered, surprised by a rush of defensiveness on Lucifer’s behalf. “Undisciplined passion turns to contempt. Lucifer demanded what Adonai could not give. He demanded what he was not ready to handle. It began as an offense that Lucifer regarded as betrayal. Over time he became a slave to his lust, rage, and revenge.”

“That’s horrible,” the girl’s eyes were moist with tears.

“Do not pity him,” Rapha said. “Lucifer is powerful. His hatred for Adonai overshadows all. He would feel no pity for you. He would fill you with poison and revel in your pain. He would rejoice in the agony this would bring to Adonai.”

“But why is he allowed here?” Adam asked.

The angel swept a hand toward the view of their home as he tried to make them understand what still baffled him. “Adonai keeps no prisoner. He holds all He loves with an open hand—even those who hate Him.”

Anger flooded Adam’s face. Even without his gift of reading thoughts, Rapha could have read the boy’s emotions loud and clear as Adam digested those words, his eyes gazing ‘round at the beauty of the garden until they came to rest on the young woman beside him. The thought of Lucifer dwelling so close did not concern the boy… until he considered her.

“What good are walls if evil is shut in with us?” Adam asked.

Rapha gazed across the outlands, mulling distant memories. “Even in paradise, evil can thrive.” He sighed and faced them, “I, too, struggle with these questions. Adonai’s ways are mysterious but what seems foolish to me has always proved to be His deepest wisdom. Nevertheless, you are free to ask Him. He has often told me, ‘Deep faith is evidenced more in honest questions than in blind acceptance.’ Even if you are not ready for the answer, He will not forget. He always honors a request for wisdom.”

Adam grabbed a piece of golden fruit but rather than eat it, he gave vent to his frustration and flung it far and high, over the garden wall. They did not see where it landed but its passing roused a vibrant flock of birds that squawked their protest and flapped away over the wall only to wheel about in the sky and return to the garden’s peaceful shade. Rapha watched his young charges, hoping the birds’ wisdom was not lost on them.

But the girl had had enough seriousness for one day. Suddenly she clambered down, goading Adam, “You’re so good at diving. If I get too far ahead you can just fall to beat me!”

“Perhaps I should name you ‘Vexing’ since you’re so good at it,” Adam retorted as he dodged the branch she released with precision toward his head.

As their laughing voices retreated Rapha shut his eyes and shuddered at the icy wind that pierced his soul. “Yes, Adonai,” Rapha whispered, “he comes.”


But late that night as the girl slumbered, Adam stared at the stars, pondering their patterns. Rapha sensed an unfamiliar emotion in the boy: fear. He was moved by pity to go to Adam but Adonai’s silent direction forbade it, “Let it drive him to Me.”

So in the deepest watch of the night, Adam leapt from his bed and made his way to the river. With the swift-moving water bubbling over stones that echoed back the sparkle of myriad points of starlight, Adam paced on the bank muttering, grabbing stones, and flinging them into the dark waters.

“Show yourself!” the boy finally shouted to the night. “I know you’re here, watching and waiting. I can feel your hatred. I know you want to hurt us, to hurt her. I am not afraid of you!” Adam spun as if expecting an attack but no one was there.

As Adam continued his rant, calling to Lucifer, even taunting him, a shadowy figure appeared in the half-light.

After a few moments, a quiet voice came from the cloaked form. “What do you seek?”

Adam gasped and spun to face the man, his body coiled and ready to fight. “Are you my enemy?”

“No,” the quiet voice replied.

Adam studied the speaker who was bathed in the radiance reflected from Adam’s body but the man’s face remained in shadow due to the long piece of cloth that draped over his head.

“Lucifer would lie. How can I believe you?”

“You must discern,” the man said. “Your eyes and ears can be deceived but your heart sees truth.”

“My heart does not have eyes. How can it see?”

“Seek the memory of communion with Adonai. That is your foundation and your confidence. That is where your vision is clear.”

Adam was quiet a moment. “But I’ve been told Lucifer would say anything to make me believe him.”

The man did not answer.

Adam’s brow furrowed with concentration even as he kept a wary eye on the visitor. “Why do you hide your face?”

“I am hidden from eyes that do not see.”

“Uncover your face and I will see just fine,” Adam leapt toward the man and grabbed for the concealing length of cloth—but a fire flashed, and for a split second the night was brighter than day. When all was dark and silent again, Adam was dumb, blind, and trembling at the man’s feet.

Adam’s shoulders began to shake and a sob broke from his mouth.

“My child, why do you fear?” The man’s voice was gentle and when he touched Adam, the boy’s tongue was loosed.

“I do not have the power to fight you. I do not have the power to, to protect her.”

“You do not lack power. What you lack is humility. A humble man would ask the Father for whatever he needs, and receive it.”

Adam’s head shot up. “Then I will ask the Father for power.”

“And you would still be defeated,” the man’s quiet voice stated.

“You lie! Adonai has power over everything.”

“And Adonai obeys His own law. Authority is given according to law.”

“Authority? Does this authority give power?”

“Yes. It is the right to rule.”

“Then that is what I need. I will humbly ask the Father for authority.”

“It is already yours.”

“But, I am helpless before you.”

“Your authority is of this Earth. It does not extend to Me.”

Adam’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me who you are.”

“As you have said, words could deceive. Come closer, child.”

But Adam remained unmoving.

“Tell me, how can you decide which trees in the garden provide what is good to eat?”

“Easy,” Adam said, “I see the fruit.”

“And that is how you should decide if you can trust me.”

“I do not see any branches or leaves on you.”

“My words and actions are my fruit. If I draw you closer to the Father, I am a good tree.”

Adam squatted down, still wary, and watched as the man gathered kindling to add to a small mound of wood. In a few moments a cheerful blaze crackled and the man brought forth a simple meal of fruit and nuts wrapped in savory leaves along with small cakes of what appeared to be several types of grain pressed together. He laid the cakes on a flat rock among the glowing embers.

When the man took a seat on a log and reached to stir the fire with a stick, for just a moment it flared and chased every shadow from his features. Adam’s jaw dropped and he stared. Rapha felt the boy’s surge of excitement.

“I know your eyes,” Adam whispered.

The man met Adam’s gaze and smiled. “Will you come and eat?”

In answer, Adam inched closer and eased onto a rock within the circle of warm light.

The man poured water into a shallow bowl, “To wash away the dust,” he said, then returned to his seat to tend the cakes.

But Adam continued to stare, “I see Adonai in you.”

“Come, there is much to discuss.”

Adam moved as if in a dream to dip his hands into the water. “Please, tell me who you are.”

“I AM the Word of Adonai made flesh.”

The blank look on Adam’s face plainly showed he did not comprehend.

“I AM truth. I AM life. To know Me is to know Adonai.”

“But I know Adonai. Why did I not recognize you?”

“Because eyes are blind when clouded by fear,” the man said, then poured more water, this time into a small wooden vessel. He handed it to Adam who, without hesitation, put it to his lips.

Immediately he gave an exclamation of surprise, “This is not water!”

“No. This is the fruit of My vine. Drink it and you will never thirst.”

Adam took a small sip. “It is wonderful,” he said, and then tilted his head to one side and peered once again at the man. “But Adonai is complete; He has no need of a body.” His eyes lit with suspicion once again, “He is the one true God. How can He be split in two?”

The man reached above him for a piece of fruit. “You see this fruit. It is whole and yet it has three parts.”

Adam nodded but his eyes were still narrowed.

The man broke open the fruit and its aroma filled the air. “Three separate and distinct parts—skin, flesh and seed—but all part of the whole. You also, like Adonai, are a union of three—spirit, soul, and body.”

“Yes, but why would Adonai separate the three?”

“The Father and I are One. Even in this humble form I AM complete. However, from me you will learn how to lead what is broken back to holiness.”

To Rapha, it seemed Adam absorbed the man’s words and melted in response. His shoulders sagged and his radiant face was bowed. “You remind me of my true purpose. Adonai has told me that through me the whole Earth will be blessed. Forgive me. I have been thinking only of her,” Adam’s shoulders slumped and a sigh escaped his lips, “of myself.”

“Well said.” The man reached up to lay the hood of his cloak around his shoulders. “Come here, my child.” He extended a hand toward Adam who crept nearer to sit at the man’s feet. “Rapha,” his smile was wide as he addressed the angel, “now that he believes I am not Lucifer, there are things to discuss.”

Rapha stepped out of the shadows as Adam and the man shared their meal. Mostly the conversation dealt with Adam’s role in the earth and how his authority, awarded by Adonai, was what Lucifer truly desired.

“He would corrupt everything again if given the chance. He desires to bring pain to Adonai by bringing pain to His creation. Yes, Lucifer is here and he is seeking a weakness. You must not listen to him. He is beautiful and he knows how to twist truth to his purposes. Do not listen to his words. Do not desire his fruit. It is poison. To be like him will seem irresistible; so do not even look upon him. And do not think a sample of what he offers will be safe. With just a taste of his corruption your body will know death, and then all creation will fall under his authority.

“Look around you, Adam. All is laid at your feet. This one thing only, Lucifer’s corruption, the fruit of his tree, is forbidden.”

The man spoke with Adam until a brilliant strip of sunlight peeked over the horizon. Then he leaned toward the boy and kissed him on the forehead. Rapha smiled, his own heart overflowing with the look of bliss on Adam’s face.

Immediately, the man was gone.


The next day, while Adam slept, the girl decided to do some exploring on her own. She dug with fervor, exposing a fascinating, hidden world just beneath the grass and moss. Rapha lounged, unseen, high in a neighboring tree. Of late his anxiety had grown so he tried to keep an eye on the young people even when they desired privacy. When they bathed or took care of other private matters he retreated, but at all times he stayed attuned to their emotions. Even during their slumber he remained alert, knowing the enemy’s preference for vulnerability. Unbeknownst to his charges, other angels also formed a protective circle during those hours.

One other factor had heightened Rapha’s watchfulness. Adam and his betrothed were coming of age. Adams body was thickening, his voice changing and the peach fuzz on his cheeks darkening. The girl also had come to maturity. The scent of her blood on the wind was unmistakable. This development, other than sending her to bathe more often, had caused little disturbance to her daily routine, but to Rapha, so well acquainted with Lucifer’s ways, it felt like a red flag waved above the trees, marking her location.


Later, when Adam came through the bushes, his eyes still puffy from sleep, the young woman smiled a greeting from the pit she had dug and brushed the hair from her face, leaving a dark smudge on her forehead.

“I need to talk to you,” Adam announced in a serious tone.

“Look at this! I can’t even get to the bottom of these roots! They go down so much deeper than the ones by the river. It’s just like Rapha said. The water is harder to reach so their roots are longer.”

Adam’s face lost a bit of concern for heavier matters as he watched her back where her dazzling garment dipped below her shoulders that strained at the earth, but he shook his head to clear it and addressed her again, “Please, this is important.”

“I’m listening,” she replied, then grabbed at something and proudly extracted a tiny green lizard.

“Listen!” Adam commanded and reached for her hands. She watched with a pout as the startled lizard ran away, but she soon realized that Adam still held her hands. For a moment they both stared at the joining until Adam grinned and opened her soil-encrusted palms. “They’re very… um… dirty,” he murmured as he brought her hands to his lips.

Rapha watched from his high perch, observing what human eyes could not see, a magnetic intertwining of their souls. But the expressions of alert, breathless fascination said it all. Their bodies longed to follow suit. Rapha hoped he would not have to intervene should their attraction prove overwhelming.

Eyes wide, the girl pulled her hands away and slapped them together a few times. “So what’s so important?”

Adam looked away from her body, from the compelling garment of light that followed her gentle curves. He clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breath as if to shake away the cloud from his mind caused by gazing at her. When he spoke again, his voice was stern. “I have spoken to Adonai about Lucifer. He said to stay away from him. We… cannot have anything to do with him, especially we cannot touch him, or we’ll die.” So the message was a bit befuddled. At the moment, Adam was feeling proprietary; he didn’t want her touching anyone but himself.

She returned to her digging, a bit perplexed. “It feels strange.” She slapped at the soil. “I don’t see what’s so scary about one banished angel. Doesn’t Adonai trust our judgment at all?”

Adam watched her back as she dug. Finally, he wiped a hand across his forehead, leaving a brown streak to match hers, and turned to move away through the trees.

She prattled on. “After all, he lost, right? And what does ‘we will die’ even mean?” She looked over her shoulder to discover she was alone. “Adam? Where are you?”