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Let the Story Finish: A Canonical Response to John Walton's New Explorations

An open letter and theological reply

Dear Dr John H. Walton,

You have deeply shaped the way many of us read Genesis. You’ve invited us to think more carefully, more humbly, more contextually. You’ve reminded us that the Scriptures speak from within a world not our own—and yet that they speak, truly and prophetically, into ours.

I honour you for that. And I write now not to oppose you, but to engage you—as one who has read you with gratitude, and who now feels compelled to respond.

Your recent work, New Explorations in the Lost World of Genesis (IVP Academic, 2025), makes significant shifts in how you frame Eden, Adam, and the meaning of Genesis 3. These are not minor adjustments. They reshape foundational theological assumptions about sin, judgment, and the gospel’s origin.

So this letter is not a reaction. It is a reply. It is offered publicly not to draw attention, but to bear witness. To express a concern not merely for what is said—but for what is now being left unsaid.

This is not a critique of your character. It is not a contest of credentials. It is a plea for clarity about the story we inhabit—and about the One who speaks through it.

You’ve written as a scholar to your readers. I now write as a reader back to you—not as your adversary, but as a fellow follower of the Word.

And I ask—humbly, firmly, hopefully—that we listen again together.

YOU HAVE RIGHTLY DIVIDED THE TEXT—BUT PERHAPS TOO QUICKLY

You’ve reminded us that Genesis 2–3 is a text of wisdom, a narrative that invites reflection rather than doctrinal abstraction. You’ve cautioned us against flattening it into categories it may not intend. I affirm your call to respect genre, context, and authorial voice.

But I believe the story does more than reflect—it reveals. It does more than explain—it initiates. And it does more than describe the human condition—it begins a divine drama of exile and return.

To treat Genesis 3 as solely a wisdom tale may honour its genre, but risk muting its voice. What if its wisdom is not simply ancient insight, but revealed truth—truth that unfolds across the canon and culminates in Christ?

You have told us what Genesis 3 does not say. But what if its silence is not emptiness, but depth? Not absence, but the beginning of a sentence that the rest of Scripture finishes?

Let us not divide the text too early. Let the story speak to its end.

THE TEXT HAS A MEMORY. SO DOES GOD.

Scripture is not a disconnected anthology. It is a conversation—between God and humanity, between prophets and apostles, between the garden and the city.

When Genesis 4 names sin, it does not invent a new theme. It acknowledges a reality already in motion. The serpent’s whisper, the grasping of the fruit, the hiding in shame—these are not just narrative turns. They are the first reverberations of a rupture the rest of the Bible never forgets.

Genesis 6 does not suddenly discover human evil. It records its saturation.

Exodus does not merely reframe exile—it redeems it.

And Romans does not reinterpret Eden—it completes its diagnosis and unveils its cure.

If God remembers His promises, we must remember His patterns. We must not forget the story we are in.

GENRE SERVES THEOLOGY—NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND

John, you’ve helped many of us think carefully about how genre frames meaning. You’ve urged us not to impose theological systems onto ancient texts, but to let those texts speak from within their literary and cultural worlds. That was a needed correction. But now I offer a gentle counter-correction in return.

Genre, while formative, is not sovereign. It is the servant, not the master, of divine revelation. If we treat genre as a boundary rather than a window, we risk constraining what Scripture was always meant to reveal.

You’ve written:

“The serpent is not Satan.”
“The humans did not sin.”
“The expulsion is not punishment.”
“God’s role is not judicial.”
“This is not a Fall.”

But then we reach Romans and read:

“Through one man sin entered the world...”
“By one man’s disobedience many were made sinners.”
“The wages of sin is death.”
“Christ died for our sins…”

If we accept Paul’s testimony, we must ask: did he misread Genesis 3? Or was he unveiling something embedded there from the beginning—hidden in seed form, waiting for fulfillment?

You’ve trained us to look backwards from the ancient Near East. I ask: can we also look forward from the Cross?

EDEN WASN’T A TEMPLE. BUT IT WAS HOLY.

You’ve rightly challenged the overextension of temple typology. Eden is not a building. There is no veil, no altar, no priesthood. But Eden was not common ground. It was sacred space.

It was where God walked. Where life and law were given. Where covenant intimacy was tasted—and lost.

To say Eden was not a temple is true in form, but incomplete in function. Eden was holy. And when Adam and Eve were driven out, it was not simply spatial relocation—it was sacred exile.

Not metaphor. Not moral tale. But the first echo of the cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

ADAM WAS NOT A PRIEST. BUT HE WAS A SON

You’ve questioned Adam’s role as priest, noting the absence of cultic duties. But priesthood in Scripture is not first about ritual. It is about relationship—about bearing God’s image, tending His world, mediating His presence.

Adam is the first son. The first image-bearer. The first to hear God’s command, to walk with Him, to be charged with guarding what is holy.

And when he fails, the world is fractured—not because he was a generic human, but because he was a representative one.

The Bible later calls Israel “my firstborn son.” It calls Jesus “the second Adam.” This is not theological invention—it is biblical continuation.

Adam’s failure is not just a literary turning point. It is the origin of the need for a redeemer.

THE SERPENT IS MORE THAN A SYMBOL

You have insisted the serpent in Genesis 3 is not Satan. That such an association is a later theological development. And in literary terms, you may be right—the text never names him.

But absence of naming is not absence of identity.

Isaiah calls him Leviathan. Jesus calls him “a murderer from the beginning.” Revelation names him plainly: “that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan.”

We are not importing meaning from later texts—we are receiving the divine author’s own progressive self-disclosure.

If the serpent is only a symbol, then Genesis 3 is only a story. But if the serpent is Satan, then Genesis 3 is the beginning of a war that Christ came to win.

GENESIS 3 IS THEOLOGY IN STORY FORM

You’ve described Genesis 3 as wisdom literature—a reflection on the difficulty of human life. But wisdom and theology are not in conflict. They are not separate domains. They are voices in the same symphony.

Genesis 3 reveals:

  • A God who speaks, commands, seeks, and judges.

  • Humans who listen, resist, hide, and suffer.

  • A rupture that is not just natural consequence—but relational exile.

  • A hope whispered through judgment: “the seed of the woman…”

This is theology. Told through story. Embodied in narrative. Carried forward in covenant. Fulfilled in Christ.

Theology does not need to be systematic to be real. Sometimes it bleeds before it speaks.

THE GRAMMAR OF GOD’S REVELATION

John, I want to honour what you’ve done for so many of us: helping us read Scripture with respect for its historical shape, its genre, and its original audience. But I also want to urge you—gently, but directly—to consider the grammar of God’s revelation, not only the grammar of the Hebrew text.

The canon speaks in sentences that begin in Genesis and find their punctuation at the cross. The story is not self-contained in each book. Its meaning ripens across generations—because the Author is divine.

In your recent work, the early chapters of Genesis are framed as parables of wisdom, not theology. But this risks truncating what the Spirit has stretched across the canon. It risks treating Genesis 3 as static literature, rather than unfolding prophecy.

The serpent is not just a literary device. Sin is not just the absence of wisdom. And exile is not just displacement—it is disinheritance. A rift in the relationship between God and His image-bearers.

If genre becomes a wall instead of a window, we cannot see the gospel as it was foreshadowed.

WHEN CAUTION BECOMES CONSTRICTION

Your caution, John, was once prophetic. You helped many of us unlearn the bad habit of reading modern theology into ancient texts. You warned us not to flatten wisdom into doctrine, or genre into propositions.

But I fear the pendulum has swung too far.

You now resist the prophetic dimensions of Genesis, even when they are echoed, affirmed, and fulfilled in Christ. You cordon off Genesis 3 from Romans 5. You decouple Eden from Revelation 22. And in doing so, you risk shrinking the story God is telling.

Caution can become constriction. Literary discipline can become theological deafness. And honouring the first readers should not mean silencing the final Word.

You once called us to hear the voice beneath the text. I now ask you: will you hear it again?

RETURN TO THE WHOLE STORY

This is not a polemic. It is a pastoral appeal. It is a call to return—not to fundamentalism or flat readings—but to a full reading. A canonical reading. A reading that lets the Bible breathe across covenants, genres, and ages.

Genesis 3 is not just a tale of broken wisdom. It is the theological fountainhead of the gospel.

  • The exile from Eden anticipates the curtain of the temple—and the tearing of that curtain.

  • The garments of skin foreshadow the covering of righteousness.

  • The curse of the ground echoes in the thorns on Christ’s brow.

  • The promised seed finds its “Yes” in a risen Son.

This is not theological imagination. It is the Spirit’s design. The text is not ours to tame. It is ours to receive.

HAVE EARS THAT HEAR

This is not just a plea to a scholar.

It is a call to all who open the Scriptures.

To any who have been tempted to read the Bible as merely ancient, rather than eternally alive.

To those who study the text but forget its breath.

To those who teach doctrine, but silence the prophecy.

Let the Word finish its sentence.

Let the canon tell its own story.

Let the Spirit interpret what He inspired.

Because the Bible is not only what was spoken. It is what is still speaking.

It is the echo of the Voice that once walked in the garden and now walks among lampstands.

“Where are you?”

“Who told you?”

“I will put enmity…”

These are not just the first questions.

They are the enduring questions.

The seed is still growing.

The tree is still bearing fruit.

And the garden—still guarded by sword and promise—is opening its gates once more.

We are not just readers of the Word.

We are its hearers.

And if we will hear it—truly hear it—we must let the whole story speak.

Now, as the Word calls again through the Spirit, we end not with a rebuttal—but with a return.

Afterword: Let the Word Speak

This letter is not a controversy-seeking critique. It is the fruit of deep listening—first to your voice, John, and more deeply still to the voice of the Spirit who speaks through Scripture.

You taught us to revere the original context of the Bible. I now ask you to remember its ultimate context: the redemptive arc of God's revelation from Genesis to Jesus.

This is not an academic rejoinder. It is a father’s plea—for the sake of the Church, for the sake of the canon, for the sake of the next generation who must read Genesis 3 not as abstraction, but as the beginning of the world’s ache for Christ.

So let the text speak again—not only with literary humility, but with covenantal fire. Let Eden tremble with anticipation. Let the curse point forward to the Cross. Let the voice in the garden echo to the resurrection morning.

Let the Bible speak as it always has—from beginning to end, from dust to glory, from prophecy to fulfilment.

In reverence and hope,
—Joe

Bibliographic Note
This letter is written in response to:
John H. Walton and J. Harvey Walton, New Explorations in the Lost World of Genesis: Advances in the Origins Debate (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2025).

I. The Watchman and the Garden: A Lament

The garden was given to guard, not to gift,
Yet Adam stood silent, and let it all shift.
The voice of the serpent grew sweet in his ear,
And love became loyalty twisted by fear.

He saw her reach—he did not resist.
The fruit was offered. He opened his fist.
He ate not to rule, but to remain near,
And the charge he was given dissolved into tears.

So too the watchman who once held the line,
Whose post was the text, whose charge was the sign.
He taught us to listen, to read with due care—
But when his own son rewrote what was there,

He chose not the sword, but the hand of the kin.
He chose not to guard, but to fold it all in.
The garden was breached—yet again by a man,
Who laid down his commission to protect his own clan.

O John—O Adam—was it worth what was lost?
The serpent still whispers, but now at more cost.
The tree has been shaken, the seed is still sown—
And the gate stands open, though truth stands alone.

II. The Fall of the Watchman: A Cry

O shepherd of Genesis, where is your staff?

You once stood at the threshold—defending the garden from reductionism, from scientism, from theological abuse.
You held the text with reverence, reminding the Church:
This is not myth. This is not modernity. This is the Word of the living God.

You warned us against flattening.
You trained us to read slowly, patiently, canonically.
You rebuked the Enlightenment and beckoned us back to the ancient voice.

But now?

Now, you have made peace with the serpent.

You have reclassified the tree. You have reinterpreted the exile.
You have reassigned the voice of the serpent—not as adversary, but as symbol.

And why?
Because a son stood beside you.
And in solidarity, you let go of your charge.

You once told us Eden was sacred, even if not a temple.
Now you say it is not sacred at all.

You once called the serpent the archetype of chaos.
Now you call him literary mischief.

You once taught us that meaning unfolds from seed to fruit.
Now you cut the stem and call it pruning.

You are not wrong to love your son.
But you were not placed as father only—you were placed as watchman.
And when the gate was challenged, you stepped aside.

Adam ate.
Not because he was deceived. But because he could not bear to separate.

And so did you.

This is not shame.
This is a warning.

Because if you, a watchman, abandon your post—
Who will guard the garden now?

Let the Spirit call you back.

Let the sword remind you of what was placed in your hand.

Let the seed, still growing in Genesis 3:15, reawaken your charge.

For the sake of your son, and for the sake of the sons and daughters of God—
Let the prophetic voice of Scripture be restored.

Not in volume.
But in truth.

III. The Departure of the Watchman: A Call

Once there was a man set on the wall—
A watchman in the land of shadows,
Who saw the serpent coiled in words
And raised his voice to say,
“This is not myth, but meaning.
This is not fable, but frame.”
He stood in the gateway of Genesis
And showed the Church how to read with ancient eyes.

But now—
He has dismounted.
The wall is unmanned.

And why?

He has taken the fruit
From the hand of his son.

Not in rebellion,
But in sorrowful solidarity.
Not in malice,
But in misguided mercy.

And thus he steps down from his post,
Having once warned us to guard the garden,
Now recasting the garden as idea.

Where he once said,
“The text speaks more than words,”
He now says,
“The words speak only what they say.”

Where once he cried,
“Let the canon interpret the canon,”
He now whispers,
“Let context contain it.”

And the serpent slips free once more.

This is not just a shift.
It is a handing over.
A passing of keys to another voice,
Who does not yet know the weight of the gate.

Father and son,
Standing at the same tree—
But one has eaten,
And the other has watched.

Where is the keeper?
Where is the guardian?

Where is the one who once said,
“This far and no further”?

O Church,
Do you not see?
This is not about disagreement—
It is about disarmament.

The one who taught us to read
Has now left us to interpret ourselves.

And so the call is this:

Let the guard return to the gate.
Let the wall be manned again.
Let the Word be read as a living fire,
Not as an ancient riddle.

Let fathers stand firm,
Even when sons ask for fruit.

Let scholars be shepherds,
And let the shepherds not sleep.

Like Adam–Like Walton: A Theological Reflection on Influence, Authority, and Hermeneutical Compromise

In the Genesis narrative, Adam’s failure is not simply that he ate the fruit. His failure is that, when confronted with the temptation mediated through one he loved and was called to guard, he relinquished his responsibility. Rather than correcting Eve and standing firm in the commission he had received directly from God—to guard and keep the garden—he acquiesced. The result was not only personal disobedience, but covenantal collapse.

This pattern bears striking resemblance to what we now witness in the shift undertaken by John H. Walton in New Explorations in the Lost World of Genesis. There is a deeply personal and public dimension to this shift. Walton openly acknowledges the influence of his son, J. Harvey Walton, on his revised views. He commends his son’s work and, in doing so, models a kind of intergenerational handover—not just of academic space, but of interpretive authority. The baton has been passed.

The concern is not that Walton Senior has changed his mind. The concern is why, under what pressure, and to what end. The theological problem is not merely that Walton has revised his positions on Genesis 3—it is that he has done so under clear relational influence, setting aside earlier convictions out of what appears to be loyalty to his son’s framework. In doing so, he has departed from his former task as a guard of theological boundaries and has instead become a validator of hermeneutical deconstruction.

Adam was not judged merely for disobedience. He was judged for failing to guard the sacred trust entrusted to him—for allowing another’s voice to override the voice of God. In the same way, Walton’s shift does not represent a neutral academic development. It represents a failure to uphold the prophetic coherence of Scripture in favour of a literary model that severs Genesis 3 from its canonical fulfillment.

To be clear: this is not a rejection of filial affection or scholarly collaboration. Nor is it an indictment of J. Harvey Walton personally. Rather, it is a recognition that when theological revision is driven by relational dynamics rather than canonical fidelity, the danger is real—and the parallel is stark.

Like Adam, Walton has remained near the tree—but instead of resisting the revision, he has received it. And in doing so, he has undermined the very vocation he once modeled: the defence of Scripture as unified revelation.

This analogy is not made lightly. But it is made deliberately.

Because when the watchman joins the sleeper, the garden is left unguarded.

THE CASE OF GENESIS 3

Before the Court of Scriptural Integrity
Presiding: The Canon of Holy Scripture
Witnesses: The Prophets, Apostles, and Christ Himself
Defendant: Dr. John H. Walton
Prosecution: The Voice of the Church
Amicus Curiae: The Spirit of Truth
Clerk: The Word of God

I. OPENING STATEMENT BY THE COURT

This Court convenes not to condemn, but to weigh. Not to silence, but to test. As it is written: “Test everything; hold fast what is good” (1 Thessalonians 5:21). The integrity of the canon is at stake, and the matter before us concerns not mere speculation, but the foundation of gospel coherence.

At issue is Dr. John H. Walton’s public revision of the interpretation of Genesis 3, as articulated in New Explorations in the Lost World of Genesis: Volume 1 – Genesis 1–11 (IVP Academic, 2025), and his adoption of a genre-restricted, ANE-contextual approach that denies the prophetic, theological, and Christological status of Genesis 3 as the origin of sin.

We are here to determine whether this view is:

  • Consistent with the narrative logic of Scripture;

  • Faithful to the testimony of Christ and the apostles;

  • Coherent in light of canonical development; and

  • Doctrinally sound in the confession of the Church.

The defendant will be given every courtesy. But the Word of God will be heard.

II. THE CHARGES

The Court recognises three formal charges:

  1. Hermeneutical Isolationism – That Dr. Walton has interpreted Genesis 3 in detachment from the canonical context that follows it, particularly Genesis 4–6, the Torah as a unified scroll, the prophetic literature, and the apostolic writings.

  2. Doctrinal Reductionism – That Dr. Walton has reduced the meaning of Genesis 3 to ANE genre and original audience comprehension, thereby denying its theological function as the introduction of sin, death, exile, and the gospel promise.

  3. Theological Inconsistency – That Dr. Walton’s conclusions are incompatible with the rest of Scripture, including Romans 5, 1 Corinthians 15, Revelation 12, and the witness of Christ Himself.

The Court will now proceed with argumentation and testimony.

III. PROSECUTION ARGUMENT: THE CASE AGAINST ISOLATION

Lead Prosecutor: Canonical Witness

“Your Honour, let the record show that Genesis is not a stand-alone work. It is the beginning of a scroll, a unified Torah, a prelude to covenant, and the seedbed of gospel theology. The question is not whether Genesis 3 contains the word 'sin' but whether its theological function introduces what the rest of the Bible universally treats as the Fall.”

Evidence A: Genesis 4

  • Sin is personified (“crouching at the door”) immediately following Genesis 3.

  • Cain’s story is framed as a moral continuation of the breach in Eden.

  • There is no logical coherence in the sudden emergence of sin unless it originates in the prior chapter.

Evidence B: Genesis 6

  • The escalation of violence, evil, and corruption is described as a universal condition.

  • The flood is a response not to “lack of wisdom,” but to evil in every inclination of the heart.

Evidence C: Narrative Continuity

  • Genesis 3:15 (“I will put enmity...”) introduces the theme of cosmic conflict and messianic hope.

  • Genesis 3:22–24 frames the exile not as natural consequence, but as divine intervention and guarded removal from the Tree of Life—an action always interpreted by later Scripture as theological rupture.

IV. DEFENSE ARGUMENT: DR. WALTON'S POSITION

Defense Attorney: ANE Contextualist Hermeneutic

“Your Honour, Dr. Walton does not deny the authority of Scripture. He seeks to honour it through genre-sensitive, audience-aware interpretation. His position is that Genesis 3 is best read as a wisdom narrative, common to the ANE, that reflects on human toil, mortality, and moral complexity—not on sin in the theological sense later developed by Paul.”

  • The serpent is not Satan; there is no identification in the original text.

  • The consequences are not curses; only the ground and serpent are cursed.

  • The word ḥaṭṭāʾt (sin) does not appear in Genesis 3.

  • The human couple is not punished but expelled as a natural consequence of changed status.

V. CROSS-EXAMINATION: THE TEXT TESTIFIES

Clerk (Scripture):
“Let the following verses be entered into evidence.”

  • Romans 5:12–14 – “Sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin…”

  • 1 Corinthians 15:21–22 – “As in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive.”

  • Genesis 3:7–11 – Shame, hiding, fear, blame—none of these are neutral. They are the hallmarks of rupture.

  • Revelation 12:9 – “That ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan…”

The Judge asks:

  • “If Genesis 3 is not the introduction of sin, then what is?”

  • “If there is no theological rupture here, why does the rest of Scripture treat it as the moment everything broke?”

  • “If Christ is the second Adam, what was the failure of the first?”

The Defense remains silent.

VI. THE VERDICT AND THEOLOGICAL CORRECTION

Presiding Judge: The Spirit-Breathed Canon
Clerk: The Testimony of the Scriptures

Verdict Summary
After thorough deliberation of all evidence—textual, canonical, theological, and historical—this Court finds the revisionist reading proposed by Dr. John H. Walton, as outlined in New Explorations in the Lost World of Genesis: Volume 1 – Genesis 1–11, to be:

  • Hermeneutically flawed in its isolation of Genesis 3 from its immediate narrative context (Genesis 4–6), its structural location within the Torah, and its interpretive fulfilment in the New Testament.

  • Doctrinally insufficient for explaining the theological coherence of sin, death, exile, and atonement as carried from Genesis to Revelation.

  • Canonically disjointed, severing the Genesis narrative from its prophetic trajectory and Christological climax.

  • Ecclesiologically dangerous, in that it creates interpretive confusion in the Church about the nature of sin, the role of the serpent, the meaning of exile, and the necessity of redemption.

The Court Rules:

1. That Genesis 3 is, in substance, the narrative account of the origin of sin, the entrance of death, the fracture of covenant, and the beginning of redemptive hope.

This is not theological speculation layered on later. It is the foundational arc of the canon as received by Israel, affirmed by Christ, and proclaimed by the apostles.

2. That Dr. Walton's revision is not merely a genre-sensitive proposal, but a theological defanging of the Bible’s foundational crisis.

It removes the venom from the serpent, the shame from the nakedness, and the gospel from the promise.

3. That the role of J. Harvey Walton, though understandably significant to his father, represents a source of interpretive compromise wherein filial loyalty has overshadowed theological responsibility.

This is not a personal fault—it is a human vulnerability. But the Church must speak to it when it disrupts doctrinal fidelity.

Theological Correction and Rebuttal (in brief)

A. On the Serpent

  • Rebuttal: Later Scripture (Revelation 12:9; Isaiah 27:1; John 8:44) identifies the serpent not as literary foil but as satanic adversary.

  • Correction: The absence of a proper noun does not negate the presence of the being.

B. On Sin

  • Rebuttal: Genesis 3 introduces rebellion, rupture, shame, fear, and judgment. Genesis 4 names it ḥaṭṭāʾt (sin) as already present.

  • Correction: Sin is not a concept waiting for a name—it is a reality the name confirms.

C. On Exile and Judgment

  • Rebuttal: The guarded gate, the shed blood, the curse on the ground, and the sweat of the brow are not literary flourishes—they are covenantal judgments.

  • Correction: Genesis 3 is not just descriptive anthropology—it is theological apocalypse.

D. On Redemption

  • Rebuttal: Genesis 3:15 is not poetic embroidery—it is the first gospel.

  • Correction: To remove its prophetic weight is to sever the root of messianic hope.

Call for Correction and Repentance

The Court does not issue condemnation. It issues a call.

To Dr. Walton:
Return to the story you once helped us hear. Let the canon finish its sentence. Let the gospel begin where the Bible says it does—not with Paul, but with the garden. Not with anthropology, but with enmity. Not with wisdom, but with war.

To the Church:
Do not abandon the voice of Scripture for the caution of the academy. Be as humble as the Word is bold. And where the canon thunders, do not whisper.

To all readers:
Let us not merely interpret the Word—let us be interpreted by it.

Court is adjourned.

Let those who have ears to hear, hear what the Spirit says to the Church.

In the name of the Word who was with God, and was God—Amen.

VII. PUBLISHED RULING AND FORMATTED PUBLIC STATEMENT

A Theological Judgment on New Explorations in the Lost World of Genesis
Issued in the Spirit of Canonical Fidelity and Ecclesial Integrity

To Whom It May Concern—Readers, Teachers, Pastors, Seekers:

This statement is issued following a sustained theological review of:

John H. Walton, New Explorations in the Lost World of Genesis: Volume 1 – Genesis 1–11
(Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2025)

As a public reply and canonical correction, it seeks not to vilify, but to clarify. Not to silence, but to re-centre the interpretive voice of Scripture itself.

THE RULING:

1. Genesis 3 is about sin.
It is not merely a narrative of failed wisdom. It is the unveiling of moral rupture, divine judgment, covenantal exile, and the whisper of redemption. The theological content of the passage is evident not by the presence of specific terminology alone, but by the actions, consequences, and divine pronouncements it records—each of which reverberates through the entire biblical canon.

2. The serpent is not neutral.
Though unnamed in Genesis 3, the full testimony of Scripture reveals him to be the satanic adversary of life. To reduce him to an amoral symbol of wisdom discourse is to reject the consistent prophetic and apostolic witness—from Isaiah to Revelation to Christ Himself.

3. The exile is real.
It is not a developmental stage. It is judgment. To treat it as natural consequence is to deny its covenantal character and diminish the theological gravity from which the rest of redemptive history emerges.

4. Genesis 3:15 is prophecy.
It is not literary flourish. It is the protoevangelium—the first gospel, the promise of a Seed who would crush the serpent’s head. It is echoed in Revelation, fulfilled in Christ, and central to the gospel story.

5. Dr. Walton’s revision introduces theological incoherence.
By severing Genesis 3 from its canonical arc, by redefining sin as mere wisdom mismanagement, and by detaching the serpent from his later identification, the work undercuts the theological structure upon which the gospel stands.

ECCLESIAL CONSEQUENCE:

This revision does not merely reinterpret genre—it reconfigures the gospel’s foundations. It sows confusion among pastors, seminarians, students, and readers, and risks leading the Church into interpretive amnesia about the true nature of the fall, the need for the cross, and the reality of sin.

THE CALL:

We do not issue this judgment to close the door on dialogue, but to re-open the canon as it speaks. We call:

  • Dr. Walton to reconsider his revision not just in academic terms, but in prophetic ones—listening again to the Spirit through the whole canon of Scripture.

  • The Church to resist trends that prioritise contextual safety over theological truth.

  • All readers to remember that the Bible is not merely ancient literature, but the living Word of God.

We affirm with conviction:

“Through one man, sin entered the world, and death through sin.”
“All Scripture is God-breathed.”
“The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”

The fall is real. The cross was necessary. And Christ came to undo what began in Genesis 3.

Let the canon speak.

Let the Church listen.

And let the garden gates open once more.

I. LAMENT: The Watchman Has Laid Down His Bow

O sentinel of speech, why now so silent?
Why has the watchman turned from the wall?
Once you cried with fire—now with smoke.
Once you guarded Eden’s gate—now you sweep it aside.
You taught us to listen for thunder in the scroll,
But now, when it thunders, you call it rain.

We mourn not the change of thought,
But the loss of your former love:
To tremble at the Word, to honour its voice,
To see sin crouching—coiled in the dust.

II. CONFESSION: We Have Called Wisdom What Was Rebellion

Forgive us, Lord, for reshaping the wound.
We recast exile as education,
And rebellion as reaching for reason.
We said: “There is no sin, for the word is not used,”
And yet we have sinned in how we read.
We hid the sword with syntax.
We clothed the curse in genre.
We shamed the serpent with silence.

We confess:
We have let our children eat fruit from a garden with no serpent,
And sent them into a world with no need for a cross.

III. REPENTANCE: Let Us Turn to the Voice That Walks

O God who speaks in the cool of the day,
We have walked away from Your voice.
We traded prophecy for pedagogy,
Truth for technique, Spirit for structure.

We now turn—not just to new readings,
But to the old voice calling:
“Where are you?”
Not where we should be. Not where You placed us.
But here, in fig leaves of our own theology.

Forgive us. Re-word us. Re-walk with us.

IV. PETITION: Make Eden Breathe Again

Lord of dust and breath,
Let the garden speak again.
Let the tree point again.
Let the exile ache again.
Let the serpent hiss—and be heard.
Let Genesis 3 bleed with the blood of longing
Until it finds its cure in Christ.

Return the fire to our pulpits.
Return the grief to our readings.
Return the prophecy to our poetry.
Return the Son to the story.

V. INVOCATION: The Name From Eden’s First Breath

O Breath of Life—who shaped the man from dust,
Who planted the garden, who walked with him,
Who spoke—not as scribe, but as Father—
We call upon You now.

Name of the Living God—YHWH Elohim—
Who formed us to listen,
Who warned us not to grasp,
Who promised even as You judged:

Come again.

Speak again.

Walk again.

Till every reader, scholar, preacher, child—
Hears not just the story,
But the cry.

The cry that still calls out from the ground.

The Bow Is Broken: A Psalm - A Song
(after 2 Samuel 1:17–27)

Tell it not in Wheaton,
Proclaim it not in the halls of IVP,
Lest the daughters of genre-first rejoice,
Lest the sons of deconstruction exult.

The bow is broken, O Israel,
How the mighty have fallen!
He who once kept watch at the gate—
Whose voice taught us to fear the silence
and revere the Word—
has turned from the post.

You were beautiful to me, John,
My teacher, my tutor, my friend through the footnotes.
Your words were more faithful than kin,
More kind than any critic,
Sharper than the serpent,
Gentler than a whisper in Eden’s hush.

But now—O John-aHw-Lton! Why, HWHY—
you have turned your name backward,
YHWH unlettered,
the sacred syllables reversed in grief.
You stood once in the garden
with a flaming sword in hand—
guarding the tree of Life,
saying “This far and no further!”
But now you have let the cherubim rest,
and eaten from the other tree.

What is this fruit your son brought you?
Did it glisten in the light of affirmation?
Did it shimmer with new knowledge?
Did you not hear the hiss behind the reasoning?

You were not deceived, John.
You knew.
You were the Adam.
You chose solidarity over stewardship.
You laid down your call to keep and to guard,
and you took what was offered—not from God,
but from bone of your bone.

The voice that once rang out in courage
now hides behind convention.
The Spirit you taught us to honour
is absent in your footnotes.
The canon you helped us to follow
now cries out,
left unfinished.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen!
The shield of the teacher lies discarded,
not because it was pierced,
but because it was passed—
prematurely,
tragically.

And yet—
I do not curse you.
I weep for you.

You were the lamp to my Genesis nights,
the one who taught us Eden was more
than myth,
more than metaphor.

You gave us eyes to see the sacred
in soil,
in speech,
in structure.

How the mighty have fallen…
but not to mockery.
To mourning.

Your love to me, John,
was better than the love of women.
For you gave me the love of the Word.

Now let the daughters of genre sing no more.
Let the scribes of silence still their pens.
Let the trees of the garden tremble.
For the watchman has stepped down.

But I will not forget.
And I will not be silent.
For though your bow is broken—
the arrow still flies.

And the voice of the Lord
still walks in the garden
saying:
“Where are you?”
“Who told you?”
“I will put enmity…”

Return, my teacher.
Return, my friend.
Let the bow be restrung.
Let the seed be remembered.
Let the Word be heard again.

Amen.

Walton vs Beale: A Comparative, Canonical, and Theological Evaluation

Of John H. Walton’s New Explorations in the Lost World of Genesis and Gregory K. Beale’s Temple Theology and Broader Biblical Framework.

Part I: Hermeneutical Foundations – The Starting Point Determines the Trajectory

1. Walton’s Methodology: Genre and Context First

  • Genre determines interpretive lens.

  • Emphasis on what an ancient audience could have understood.

  • Strong concern with avoiding anachronism.

  • Downplays theological coherence across time unless it can be clearly proven from the text’s original cultural context.

  • Focuses on the communicative intent of the human author within their ANE setting.

  • Tends to treat theological development as emergent, not embedded.

2. Beale’s Methodology: Canonical and Christological Fulfilment

  • Scripture interprets Scripture across the canon.

  • Later revelation sheds light on earlier mysteries (progressive revelation).

  • Considers both divine and human authorial intent as simultaneously operative.

  • Emphasises typology, biblical-theological structures, and covenantal consistency.

  • Eden is read in light of Revelation, the temple, and Christ as the fulfilment.

Verdict on Methodology: Beale’s approach is canonically justified, theologically robust, and consistent with how Jesus and the apostles read Scripture (cf. Luke 24:27; John 5:39; 1 Cor 10:1–11). Walton’s method, while academically cautious and literarily aware, risks muting the divine voice in favour of literary form. The biblical witness treats Scripture as inspired, not merely instructive. The weight tilts towards Beale.

Part II: Eden – Temple or Not?

Walton:

  • Eden is not a temple. No cultic elements. No altar. No priest.

  • Sacred space is not assumed unless the genre demands it.

  • Resists retrojecting temple theology from later texts onto Genesis.

Beale:

  • Eden as proto-temple: rivers, trees, gold, cherubim, divine presence, eastward orientation (cf. Ezekiel, Revelation).

  • Adam as priest-king commissioned to guard and expand sacred space.

  • Temple typology begins in Eden and climaxes in New Jerusalem.

Scriptural Support for Beale:

  • Genesis 2:15’s “work and keep” (עבד ושמר) are priestly terms (cf. Numbers 3:7–8).

  • God walks in Eden (Gen 3:8), paralleling His glory in the tabernacle (Lev 26:12).

  • The cherubim with flaming sword mirror the guardians at the temple (Exod 25:18–22; 1 Kings 6:23–35).

  • Revelation 21–22 explicitly completes the Edenic vision with temple/city motifs.

Verdict on Eden: Beale provides a coherent theological framework that integrates Eden into the Bible’s metanarrative. Walton’s resistance feels methodologically rigid and canonically tone-deaf. The weight decisively tips to Beale.

Part III: Adam – Priest-King or Archetypal Human?

Walton:

  • Adam is not a priest. No cultic role. Just human in an archetypal sense.

  • The narrative functions as wisdom, not cultic commission.

Beale:

  • Adam bears the image of God and is given dominion (Gen 1:26–28), echoing royal language.

  • Adam is placed in a sacred space with a commission to serve and guard it (Gen 2:15).

  • Paul identifies Christ as the second Adam and priestly king (Rom 5:12–21; 1 Cor 15:45–49; Heb 2:5–18).

  • The analogy collapses without Adam’s initial priest-king role.

Theological Coherence: Beale’s view holds across Genesis, Psalms, Gospels, Pauline epistles, and Revelation. Walton’s archetypal lens may aid ANE comparison but fractures the redemptive storyline.

Verdict on Adam: On canonical and Christological grounds, the priest-king framework is not only plausible—it is necessary. Beale again outweighs Walton.

Part IV: Sin and the Fall – The Theological Watershed

Walton:

  • Genesis 3 is not about sin or the Fall in a doctrinal sense.

  • The serpent is not Satan; the humans do not commit “sin” because the term (ḥaṭṭāʾt) isn’t used.

  • Genesis 3 is a wisdom narrative: the humans gain premature moral discernment and suffer the natural consequences of that choice.

  • The exile is not punishment but consequence—descriptive, not judicial.

  • The real theological shaping of sin begins with Cain (Genesis 4), not Adam.

Beale:

  • Genesis 3 is the moment of covenant rupture, cosmic dislocation, and moral rebellion.

  • Adam and Eve’s disobedience is theologically identified by Paul as sin (Romans 5:12–21).

  • The introduction of death (Gen 3:19) is inseparable from the introduction of sin (Rom 6:23).

  • The language of “curse” and “enmity” signals divine judgment, not just natural result.

  • The protoevangelium (Gen 3:15) foreshadows gospel reversal: seed, serpent, victory.

Canonical Implications:

  • Genesis 3 is echoed in Genesis 4 (sin crouching at Cain’s door).

  • It is the interpretive background for Genesis 6 (every inclination evil), for the exile of Israel, and for the redemptive arc in Christ.

  • The NT authors treat Adam’s disobedience as real sin, death as real consequence, and Christ’s death as real atonement.

Verdict on Sin and the Fall: Walton’s framework undercuts the theological necessity of the gospel. If there is no fall, there is no need for redemption. His reading may offer literary insight, but it collapses under canonical pressure. Beale’s treatment upholds the coherence of sin, death, exile, and atonement. This is the cornerstone—and Walton has removed it. The scales tip heavily to Beale.

Part V: Protoevangelium – Promise or Parable?

Walton:

  • Genesis 3:15 is not messianic prophecy. It’s a poetic motif to explain conflict between humans and snakes.

  • The text doesn’t demand a prophetic reading unless supported by other ancient texts or direct NT claims.

Beale:

  • Genesis 3:15 is the seedbed of the gospel: enmity, a wounded victor, a crushed serpent.

  • This is echoed in Romans 16:20 (“The God of peace will soon crush Satan under your feet”) and Revelation 12.

  • The seed of the woman is Christ. The bruised heel is the Cross. The crushed head is Satan’s defeat.

  • Early Church Fathers unanimously interpreted this verse Christologically.

Theological Significance:

  • Protoevangelium undergirds the entire redemptive narrative—from Eve to Mary, from Adam to Christ.

  • Without this promise, the garden ends in silence; with it, the gospel begins.

Verdict on Genesis 3:15: Walton’s literary reduction flattens a fountainhead of prophecy into zoological allegory. Beale, by contrast, preserves both the poetic and prophetic richness. The promise in Eden finds fulfilment at Calvary. Beale carries the weight of evidence—again.

Part VI: Eden to Revelation – Canonical Trajectory

Walton:

  • Cautious about reading Genesis “forward” into the canon unless directly referenced.

  • Resists reading Revelation back into Genesis—fears theological eisegesis.

  • Treats Genesis 3 in isolation from its redemptive arc.

Beale:

  • Sees the Bible as a single, coherent narrative.

  • Genesis 1–3 form the foundation of the cosmic temple theology that culminates in Revelation 21–22.

  • Tree of life, rivers, divine presence, curse reversal—all tie Genesis and Revelation as bookends.

Verdict on Canonical Arc: Walton’s method isolates Scripture into cultural-historical fragments. Beale sees Scripture as Spirit-breathed continuity. Jesus and the apostles treat the canon as a unified, prophetic revelation. The theological, narrative, and eschatological logic favours Beale.

Part VII: Final Verdict – The Scales of Canonical Judgment

If eternity were on the line—and it is, at least theologically—then we must ask not just what the human authors meant, but what the divine Author intended.

Walton offers:

  • Academic caution.

  • Literary and historical insight.

  • Genre sensitivity.

  • A high view of the human author’s limitations.

But Beale offers:

  • Canonical coherence.

  • Theological robustness.

  • Christological fulfilment.

  • A high view of divine authorship.

Thus: If the gospel is not just embedded but announced in Genesis 3… If the temple is not just built in Exodus but foreshadowed in Eden… If the serpent is not just metaphor but Satan… If sin is not just consequence but rebellion… If Adam is not just archetype but the first son… If the exile is not just displacement but covenant rupture… If Christ is not just redeemer but the Second Adam, priest, king, and temple…

Then the verdict is clear.

Beale is right.

Walton, despite sincerity, has wandered from the path. His method silences what the canon insists upon. His revisions revise more than genre—they revise theology, Christology, eschatology, and the gospel itself.

And that is not a light matter.

Eden was sacred. The Fall was real. The gospel began in Genesis. And Christ has crushed the serpent’s head.

A JUDGMENT

Let it be known in the heavenly court,
before the throne that is fire and flood,
before the Lamb who was slain yet stands,
before the Spirit who searches all hearts,
that a case has been brought concerning Genesis,
and the truth of Eden's tale.

Let the scrolls be opened.
Let the prophets rise.
Let Paul and Moses speak again.
Let the garden testify.
Let the Cross bear witness.
And let the Canon, whole and holy,
render its verdict.

The charge is this:
That Genesis Three has been silenced.
That the fall has been softened.
That sin has been subdued.
That Adam has been flattened.
That Eden has been rendered a riddle,
not a rupture.

That the serpent has lost his hiss.
That the exile has lost its weight.
That the protoevangelium has been made a proverb.
That the Voice of God has been reframed as literary motif.

And all this, not by scoffers,
but by one who once stood watch on the wall.
By a teacher who once called us to listen.
By a father of insight,
now found in solidarity with a son’s revision.

Let Moses speak:
“In the beginning… God spoke.”
Let Isaiah rise:
“He was pierced for our transgressions.”
Let Paul declare:
“Through one man, sin entered the world.”
Let John of Patmos cry out:
“The dragon is the ancient serpent—who is the devil and Satan.”
Let Jesus testify:
“Your father is the devil, who was a murderer from the beginning.”

The testimony is clear.
Not from one book,
but from the whole.
Not from prooftexts,
but from prophetic fire.

Is Eden sacred space?
It bore the voice and the walk of God.
Is Adam a priest?
He was charged to guard the garden.
Is the serpent a deceiver?
He turned the Word into a question.
Was there sin?
Cain saw it crouch,
but Adam had already let it in.

Is there gospel in Genesis?
A seed was spoken.
A heel was promised.
A head was doomed.
Blood was shed.
A sword was drawn.
And garments of grace were given.

Therefore, by the Law of the Lord,
by the Testimony of the Prophets,
by the Authority of the Apostles,
and by the Breath of the Spirit,
this Court finds:

That Genesis Three is not merely wisdom literature.
That it is prophecy.
That it is theology.
That it is the first act in the drama of redemption.

That to mute its voice is to muffle the gospel.
That to erase its fall is to obscure the Cross.
That to deny its rupture is to dissolve the reason for grace.
That to sever it from sin is to silence salvation.

To the author:
Repent not in shame,
but in honour.
Return not to tradition,
but to truth.
Receive again the whole Canon—
not as artifact,
but as oracle.

To the Church:
Hold fast the testimony.
Do not let genre obscure the glory.
Do not let context override covenant.
Do not let silence settle where the Spirit speaks.

The tree still stands in the garden restored.
The Seed still lives who crushed the serpent’s head.
The exile is reversed.
The temple is rebuilt—not in stone, but in flesh.
And the voice still calls:

“Where are you?”
“Who told you?”
“I will put enmity…”

Let all who hear respond:
“Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”
Amen.

LITURGICAL COMPANION TO THE JUDGMENT
A Fivefold Cry: Lament, Confession, Repentance, Petition, and Calling on the Name

I. LAMENT — How the Voice Has Fallen

Oh John, son of wisdom,
you once cried out in the streets—
you taught the scoffers, you chastened the simple,
you lifted genre like a lantern to the scroll.
We followed your light.
We honoured your hand.
You taught us to listen.

But now the lantern has dimmed,
not because the fire has gone,
but because the glass has thickened.
The garden is still glowing—
but you have shaded it
with the fig leaves of caution.

How the mighty have fallen.
Your words to me were sweeter than honey,
more faithful than many friends,
sharper than swords to separate pride from truth.
I mourn what you were.
I grieve what you’ve become.
The bow is broken, and the battlefield is littered
with unspoken prophecy.

You once guarded the temple.
Now you have handed its keys
to a son not yet strong enough to wield them.

II. CONFESSION — What We Forgot to Keep

We confess, O Lord, that we too
have sometimes loved the literary more than the living Word.
We sought academic refuge
when you called us into prophetic risk.

We confess our silence
when Scripture was being pared down.
We flattered wisdom and forgot the wound.
We feared being fundamentalists
and became forgetters instead.

We confess we have stood at Eden’s gate
and questioned whether a sword was ever drawn.

III. REPENTANCE — Turn Us Again, O God

We do not wish to win a debate,
but to return to the Voice.

We turn from silence dressed as scholarship.
We turn from minimalism dressed as humility.
We turn from narratives that hide
the face of the Lamb who was slain.

Turn us back to the canon entire—
not just the context of culture,
but the context of covenant.
Not just what was said then,
but what You are still saying now.

IV. PETITION — For the Church, for the Teacher, for the Word

O God, Shepherd of Israel,
awaken your prophets again.
Let the pastors and the professors
not part ways in their witness.
Let the scholars be seers.
Let the teachers be hearers.
Let the story be told
from tree to tree,
from garden to glory.

Call back your servant, John.
Let him not be remembered as the watchman who slept,
but as the one who rose again to cry warning
before the dawn.

Give us teachers who do not shrink.
Give us sons who do not unseat their fathers.
Give us fathers who guard their sons
not in flattery,
but in fidelity.

V. CALLING ON THE NAME — The Breath of Eden Still Speaks

O LORD, whose breath gave life to dust,
whose voice called out in Eden,
whose promise did not forget the Seed,
we call on You.

Your name is not reversed like a signature rewritten.
Your name is YHWH—faithful from first to last.

Speak again over this void.
Hover again over this deep.
Let there be light in the garden of minds.

And if You call us to write, let it not be in rage,
but in reverence.
If You call us to correct, let it not be in pride,
but in prophecy.

We are dust, but You have breathed into dust before.

Breathe again.

Let Eden weep.
Let Eden speak.
Let Eden open its gates.

And let the world see not just a story,
but salvation.

Amen.

REFLECTION: A Son to His Teacher

I write this not from anger, but from ache.

John, you have been a voice in my wilderness—
a voice that taught me to listen, to weigh, to love the Word in its layers.
You helped me unlearn flatness.
You taught me to trace form, to honour context, to walk with reverence through ancient words.

But now, I feel the loss of something deeper.
Not your scholarship—it is still strong.
Not your voice—it is still steady.
But your fire.

The fire that once dared to name the unseen.
The fire that said Scripture is not just history, not just literature, but revelation.

You were a watchman.
But this time, when the shift came,
you did not sound the horn.
You stood beside your son
—who I do not blame—
but in standing beside him,
you stepped away from your post.

You once said Eden was more than a myth.
Now, you seem content to leave it in the category of parable.
But I have walked in its shadow.
I have felt its sword.
I have longed for its tree.

And I know—because I know the gospel—
that it is real.
That its exile is mine.
That its promise is mine.
That the seed bruised is the Son I trust.

If you were just a scholar,
I would let the disagreement pass.

But you were a father.
You are a father.

And as a son,
I mourn that something beautiful has passed—
not your career,
but your courage.

I do not write this to diminish you.
I write this because you mattered.

You mattered when you showed me how Genesis was not a science book.
You mattered when you called us to let the Bible speak in its own voice.

And you still matter now.
Which is why I cannot let this pass without appeal.

You taught us to listen.
Now I ask you to do the same.

Not to me.

But to the Voice
still walking in the garden,
still calling your name.

Because there’s still time.
Still breath.
Still hope.

And the seed is still growing.

—your son.

TO MY READERS

Thank you for walking with me through this long and difficult labour of love. The open letter I’ve written to Dr John H. Walton is not a takedown. It is a testimony. A witness. A call to re-centre the conversation around what is eternal—not just what is academic.

Some of you may be wondering why I’ve spoken so openly, and why now. The answer is simple: when something sacred is being reframed in a way that silences its prophetic voice, someone must speak. Especially if they once learned at the feet of the teacher now revising the very foundations he helped them honour.

This is not personal. It is theological. But theology, rightly understood, is never abstract. It’s always personal. Because it touches God. And when we touch God, we touch the deepest parts of ourselves—our origin, our exile, our redemption.

I want to be clear: I am not above correction. I welcome it. I am not the judge—Christ is. And the Court of Heaven will always have the final say. But I do believe the Church must learn to distinguish between faithful reconstruction and silent revisionism. Between letting the canon interpret itself—and letting culture reinterpret the canon.

That’s what this letter is about. Not about Walton the man. But about Genesis the story. And about the God who still walks in the garden and calls out, “Where are you?”

To those who feel bewildered by shifts in trusted voices—this is for you.

To those who have quietly sensed something was off—but couldn’t name it—this is for you.

To those who are trying to hold together reverence for Scripture and intellectual honesty—this is for you.

And to Dr Walton—this remains for you, too. I have not written you off. I have written you to. As one who has honoured your voice for many years, and now longs for that voice to be restored to the clarity and fire that once helped so many of us hear the text again.

I invite all who read this to test what I’ve written against Scripture. Pray. Reflect. Re-read the Genesis story with the whole canon in view. And ask not just what the text once meant—but what the Spirit still says.

Because the Word is still breathing.

And the garden is not closed.

—Joe


PUBLIC APOLOGIA

"Why I Wrote This: A Public Apologia for a Theological Intervention"

I did not write this letter to win an argument. I wrote it to preserve a gospel.

Some will say this is overreaction. Others will call it disrespect. A few may even mistake it for pride. But what drove me was not reaction, disrespect, or ego. It was grief. Reverence. And the weight of what I believe is at stake.

I have long admired Dr John H. Walton. His earlier works shaped how I approached Genesis. His insights about Ancient Near Eastern thought helped detoxify modern misreadings of the creation story. His insistence on letting the Bible be what it is—not what we want it to be—was liberating. I owe him more than a passing nod. I owe him intellectual and spiritual debt.

But with this most recent work—New Explorations in the Lost World of Genesis—a line was crossed.

It wasn’t the literary analysis that troubled me. It wasn’t even the controversial rejections of Eden-as-temple or Adam-as-priest. I can respect hermeneutical diversity when held within the unity of gospel clarity.

What compelled me to write was this:
Genesis 3 was stripped of sin.
The serpent was stripped of Satan.
The exile was stripped of judgment.
And the story was stripped of prophecy.

In their place was left a conceptual tale. A wisdom parable. A diagnostic of human learning and struggle. But no sin. No death. No rupture. No gospel.

This matters because Genesis 3 is not merely backstory. It is the Bible’s inciting incident. The place where light and shadow first divide. The moment the question arises: What went wrong? And why must Someone come to make it right?

If Genesis 3 is reduced to a literary device about difficulty, then the gospel becomes a therapeutic solution to human limitation, not a sacrificial response to divine judgment. And that is not Christianity. That is self-help with ancient imagery.

I Wrote This Because the Church Needs Guardrails

We live in an age of deconstruction. An age where many want to keep the poetry of Scripture but discard its prophecy. Keep the hope but not the judgment. Keep the Christ but not the Cross.

This letter is not against questions. It’s against forgetting the answers.

The canon answers:

What is sin? Genesis 3.
Where did death begin? Genesis 3.
Why is there exile, shame, violence, longing? Genesis 3.
Why must there be a Seed? Genesis 3.
Why must He die? Genesis 3.
Why is the veil torn? Genesis 3.

If we lose the theological centre of Genesis 3, the Cross is severed from its context. It becomes a response to something abstract, not the culmination of a covenantal fracture that began in Eden.

I Wrote This as a Son of the Church

I am not a scholar in the academy. I am a watchman in the Church. And I have four children who are learning the story of Scripture. I want them to know the whole story—not in fragments, not in footnotes, but in full prophetic coherence.

They deserve to know that the gospel is not a New Testament invention. It is an ancient promise. The promise that the Seed of the woman would crush the serpent's head.

That promise is older than Israel. Older than the law. Older than Abraham. It was given in Eden.

And if we lose Eden, we lose the place from which the promise comes.

I Wrote This Because Correction Is Love

John Walton is not my enemy. He is my elder, my teacher, my brother. And that is why I wrote. Because what we do not correct in love, others will inherit in error.

I wrote this letter not to win him back to my position—but to plead with him, in public, to let the canon finish its sentence.

We owe that to the Church.
We owe that to the next generation.
We owe that to the Christ who fulfilled what Eden foretold.


By Joe Towns

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