If the Lord did not originate death and does not bear the responsibility for the burdens that accompany it, where then do our weaknesses, ailments, and other forms of evil that lead to death originate? And how did death itself come to be? It is due to our disobedience to God from the very beginning; as a result of violating His command; and because of our ancestral sin in God’s paradise. Consequently, our illnesses and frailties, along with the various trials we face, arise from sin; we have donned this mortal and suffering body, which is filled with sorrow, and entered this world marked by time and death, destined to endure a life filled with passions and despair. The journey of humanity, which sin has set upon, is akin to a malady—a brief yet arduous path, with death as the inevitable conclusion. However, God not only did not create death but also sought to prevent its emergence. By creating humanity as a being endowed with self-governance (free will), He could not have intervened without undermining his creation by taking away the liberty He granted us. In His infinite wisdom and goodness, He devised a means to shield humanity from death while preserving the integrity of our will. How was this accomplished? Upon creating humanity and imparting life, He instilled within us a life-giving counsel, reinforcing it with a commandment and warning that violating this directive would lead to death—not merely the death of the body but the death of the soul. To our first parents, He declared, “In this day if you eat of the tree, that you may understand the good and the evil, you shall die by death” (Genesis 2:16-17). It is crucial to note that He does not command them outright, saying “in the day that ye eat ye shall die,” because His command is the foundation of existence for all things, as it is written: “He commanded that, and they were created” (Psalms 32:9). Death was not mandated by Him to exist; instead, He prophesied it as a consequence of disobedience, warning, “Let not yourselves be eaten of the tree; in it, if ye eat of the day, ye shall die,” so that, by following His counsel and avoiding transgression, we might remain free from death. The death referenced here pertains to the soul, as evidenced by the fact that they did not experience bodily death on the day they ate from the forbidden tree. How is the death of the soul manifested? It is realized in the separation from God. Just as light cannot coexist with darkness, where there is light, there cannot be darkness; similarly, when the Light, who is God—the very essence of Life—withdraws from our souls, death encroaches, which does not originate from God but is the result of the soul’s abandonment by Him, brought about by sin. Thus, it is clear that death is not of God, but rather a consequence of sin. How then is the soul forsaken by the omnipresent one who is never absent? It is through the soul’s own deliberate rejection of Him; God does not impose Himself upon those who possess free will. Therefore, it is not God who forsakes us, but we who are the architects of our own estrangement from Him. Tragically, we become the progenitors of our own death, having intentionally turned away from the Creator who fashioned us for life and is ever-present to give us life, much like individuals who, during broad daylight, choose to close their eyes and retreat from the light that shines upon them. By rejecting the source of life and departing from God due to our transgressions, we have embraced the fatal allure of the devil, allowing that dead spirit within us to reside—the one who, having previously forsaken God, became the catalyst for our demise and death until, as Paul states, “the living is dead.” In this condition, even existence is a form of death, as it is rendered inactive for all that is good yet potent for all that is evil, continually weaving conspiracies against itself and descending into further destruction. Some may criticize Adam for yielding too readily to the wicked suggestion, disobeying God’s command and thus becoming the source of death for us all. However, it is one thing to desire the fruit of a deadly tree without prior knowledge of its danger, and quite another to covet it passionately once the danger is known through experience. The one who consumes poison knowing its deadly effects bears greater culpability than one who, without such knowledge, succumbs to its allure.
