This month, the United Methodist Church in the U.S. eliminated denominational prohibitions against church-sanctioned same-sex/gender marriages.
Many conservative Christian opponents of 2SLGBTQIA+ political rights and ecclesial inclusion may feel like this decision from a major Protestant denomination is “unbiblical.” From their perspective, couples of the same gender marrying violates God’s original intention for human flourishing.
Funnily enough, Leviticus 18:22 or even Romans 1:26-27—passages that deal more directly with same-gender sexual relationships—are usually not the first line of defense for anti-LGBTQ Christians.
Instead, detractors often appeal to the biblical account of the first humans, arguing that the first couple was Adam and Eve, not “Adam and Steve.” In their minds, the (second) creation story that begins in Genesis 2:4 makes it clear that God had created marriage for one cisgender man and one cisgender woman exclusively.
Yet, marriage in the ancient Near East was completely different from the contemporary American Christian institution of marriage—a voluntary, spiritually sacred agreement rooted in mutual love. In the highly patriarchal ancient world, marriage was an economic agreement, and women were treated as the property of their fathers for the first part of their lives and then their new husbands.
The idea that romantic love should lead to marriage is quite new historically.1 Without a doubt, the ancient writers of this story did not conceptualize marriage in the same way that either a conservative or a progressive Christian would today.
Analyzing the narrative
For some Christians, the Genesis 2 account is not a traditional myth2 rooted in the socioreligious context of ancient Israel. Instead, it is meant to be read literally and prescriptively—a divine mandate for all people of every religion throughout time.
I wholeheartedly disagree with this assessment. I do not believe this descriptive narrative was meant to be used as a prescriptive, universal mandate for all marriages for every person who has ever lived.
First and foremost, it’s important to examine what type of literature this is. This narrative account is featured in the Torah, the first five books of the Hebrew scriptures, and the genre of the text is mythology, not law.
The line that sounds most like a directive is verse 24, which narratively functions as a descriptive aside from the writer’s point of view. By interrupting the flow of the story, the narrator connects the first woman and man’s relationship with the ancient Israelite custom of marriage.
However, the narrator represents the sociopolitical worldview of the time in which the story was written, not when the story is said to have taken place—in a primordial, pre-historical age. While the woman is clearly named as the wife of the man in verse 25, it is also interesting to note that there is no explicit mention of a wedding, which plays an important role in marriages today.
The meaning of the myth
Considering what this passage might have meant to its original audience also helps me make sense of it today. Overall, it seems this account is an attempt to explore the origins of humankind, the covenant of marriage, and the structure of the ancient Israelite families.
Similar to the creation myths of other ancient civilizations, this story speaks to one of our most fundamental human questions: how did we get here?
Perhaps it is more likely that the Eden story was meant to provoke wonder or imagination rather than to legislate behavior. The writers could have chosen to speak in imperatives, issuing commands or outlining explicit rules for marital relationships. Instead, they chose the language of mythology.
Presumably, there could be a moral aspect intended by the writers of this creation account—a deeply cultural belief about who should be married. Without a doubt, the people of ancient Israel who first orally transmitted this story and then the scribes who wrote it down generations later would have held a commitment to marriage as being between a culturally defined woman and a culturally defined man.
However, to say that the writers were trying to make a moral decree for all people in every part of the world for all future generations discounts the particularity of this story—told by a specific people group to members of their religious community.
Contemporary relevance
As a contemporary reader of the text, I must examine and name my own biases when reading this story.3 Despite my political support for 2SLGBTQIA+ people and my theological commitment to the ecclesial inclusion of queer and trans Christians, it would be hard to argue that this story serves as an affirmation of same-sex/gender marriage.
While Genesis 2:4-25 presents a picture of marriage that is grounded in the traditions of a specific culture, it does not explicitly make value judgments about future same-sex/gender marriages in the distant future.
Here’s the takeaway: if you’re in an “Adam and Eve” marriage, your relationship is completely foreign to the social and spiritual world of the Hebrew Bible—just as any other marriage today would be. And for the Steves or Eves who love folks of the same gender, your origin stories are just as sacred as the myths of the Christian cis-heteropatriarchy.
Regardless of who you love or maybe even marry, I hope you discover and craft narratives that affirm the dignity and divinity of your desires.
For more on the history of marriage, I recommend Stephanie Coontz’s book, Marriage, A History: From Obedience to Intimacy or How Love Conquered Marriage (2005).
Describing the genre of the text as mythology is not meant to diminish the spiritual usefulness or cultural relevance of the narrative. Cultural and religious myths play a crucial role in societies and communities.
I am grateful to my Hebrew Bible professor, Dr. Pat Dutcher-Walls, who taught me how to identify “interpretive principles” like this one when discussing biblical texts. This essay was adapted from a reflection I wrote for her Hebrew Bible class.