The Second Adam

“But there is a great difference between Adam’s sin and God’s gracious gift. For the sin of this one man, Adam, brought death to many. But even greater is God’s wonderful grace and his gift of forgiveness to many through this other man, Jesus Christ.” —Romans 5:15 (NLT)

Ahead of Passover celebrations, palm leaves marked the path to the Eastern Gate of Jerusalem—scattered behind the lambs led into the city for sacrificial slaughter. These palm leaves would grace the arrival of a special lamb. The Father’s Lamb. The leaves were gathered and thrown by the hands of those desperate for a Savior. Some, in honorable submission, laid their garments on the ground representing their total devotion to the arrival of a new Kingdom and in acknowledgment of its transformative power. From their lips escaped a familiar song triggered by the movement of the branches: “Hosanna!”—a song etched to their lungs by the tradition of Sukkot. Recognizing the visible presence of their God, the words of Psalm 118 were lifted in harmony:

“Bless the one who comes in the name of the Lord! We bless you from the house of the Lord!” 

After over 400 years of silence, the manifestation of triumph would finally enter before their very eyes. As Gabriel spoke to Daniel centuries prior, this King had entered the city to bring everlasting righteousness. The people of Zion could respond to the instructions of the prophet Zechariah and rejoice—for here is their victorious King, showcasing His humility by riding in on a donkey’s colt. 

For a moment, worship on Earth aligned with the worship of Heaven. For a moment, created beings across eternal planes gazed upon Jesus and saw a Messiah worthy of every breath. For a moment, the outward profession of Jesus’ authority was heard in both the Throne Room and in His chosen city. 

However, what appeared parallel in a moment couldn’t have been diverging farther apart. 

For at this same moment, bittersweet joy would consume the Father while prideful glee erupted on Earth. At this same moment, the Father’s heart breaks for His Son, who is beginning His funeral procession. At this same moment, the Father was torn by every shout of praise by voices steeped in sin and overtaken by deception. In this moment, the Father wanted redemption through ransom while His people wanted redemption through political liberation. The Father’s mercy on display would be received as selfish gain. The Savior had their attention but He wanted their souls. His Kingdom was not natural, but supernatural and its pursuit would come at a great cost. The transformative power that it carried could not be seen—only understood by way of divine revelation. 

While Psalm 118 resounded throughout the crowd, the Father heard, “Crucify Him,” for that was the true disposition of their hearts—soon to be fully exposed in only a few more days. While palm trees waved on Earth, the Father saw fig leaves—the same leaves that marked separation from His creation. The people’s actions highlighted the depth of their depravity—similar to their ancestor, Eve. They missed the Lord’s true intention and masked their soiled hearts with the symbolism of a branch. 

The first Adam failed his bride, subjecting the fruit of her womb to consequences amounting to a price she could never pay. The second Adam entered the courts of His bride on a donkey, resolved to cleanse her with His blood. Despite His bride’s disobedience, He would dress her in His obedience—laying down His life for the fruit of her womb to have access to the Father.

Palm Sunday signifies the second Adam’s opportunity to respond.

“When the Lord God made the earth and the heavens, neither wild plants nor grains were growing on the earth. For the Lord God had not yet sent rain to water the earth, and there were no people to cultivate the soil. Instead, springs came up from the ground and watered all the land. Then the Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground. He breathed the breath of life into the man’s nostrils, and the man became a living person.” (Genesis 2:4-7)

The first Adam came into existence without the presence of a human father. The Lord breathed life into him, releasing His Spirit into what was only dust. He was created as a solution to dysfunction on Earth. It was not operating in chief effectiveness. While it could have continued to sustain itself, the Lord cared too much for His creation to submit it to its own devices. 

So, He created a man: Adam. 

“The Lord God placed the man in the Garden of Eden to tend and watch over it. But the Lord God warned him, ‘You may freely eat the fruit of every tree in the garden— except the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. If you eat its fruit, you are sure to die.’” (Genesis 2:15-17)

The concept of sin was still foreign, completely obsolete. Boundaries were set in place but Adam was committed to the will of the Lord—tending Eden and enjoying its wondrous inheritance. The Lord exhibited His trust in the man He created by handing over to him the responsibility of obedience.

Soon thereafter, the Lord would identify Adam’s need for a greater inheritance. Someone he could partner with to further fulfill the will of the Father.

“Then the Lord God said, ‘It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is just right for him.’ So the Lord God formed from the ground all the wild animals and all the birds of the sky. He brought them to the man to see what he would call them, and the man chose a name for each one. He gave names to all the livestock, all the birds of the sky, and all the wild animals. But still, there was no helper just right for him. So the Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep. While the man slept, the Lord God took out one of the man’s ribs and closed up the opening. Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib, and he brought her to the man.” (Genesis 2:18-22)

A bride of his own flesh, given life by the wound of his side. Adam’s bride inherited his sinlessness. They served the purposes of the Lord together, shamelessly. The order of Earth was good in the Lord’s sight. Until disruption, in the shape of a serpent, gripped the heart of Adam’s bride. 

“The serpent was the shrewdest of all the wild animals the Lord God had made. One day he asked the woman, ‘Did God really say you must not eat the fruit from any of the trees in the garden?’” (Genesis 3:1)

The serpent’s mission was not to force Eve but to tempt her, convincing her that disobedience could offer the satisfaction the Lord could not—to find beauty in the forbidden, denying the Lord’s love for her expressed through His boundaries. The allure was enough. In a single conversation, the serpent successfully made Eve question her wondrous inheritance. Suddenly, luscious Eden became smaller than her curiosity. Suddenly, the very ground she helped tend felt insufficient. Suddenly, all that mattered was the very thing that would break her Father’s heart. But in a single conversation, the serpent successfully made the heart of the Father no longer matter. 

Where was Adam?

“The woman was convinced. She saw that the tree was beautiful and its fruit looked delicious, and she wanted the wisdom it would give her. So she took some of the fruit and ate it. Then she gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it, too.” (Genesis 3:6)

Eve was convinced, Adam was complacent. 

Adam was the one trusted with responsibility. He was responsible for relaying the Lord’s command to his bride. He was responsible for teaching her about the God he came to know before her arrival. He was responsible for reminding her of the Lord’s miraculous deeds, including her creation. He was responsible for recounting all he’s partnered with the Lord in accomplishing, including the naming of all Eden’s animals. 

Perhaps the serpent appeared to Eve because he knew of Adam’s unique relationship with the Lord. Perhaps the serpent had more faith in Adam’s ability to remain faithful than Adam did. Regardless, Adam joined his bride in her sin—coming into agreement with its counterfeit beauty and subsequently entering into its inevitable shame.

“At that moment their eyes were opened, and they suddenly felt shame at their nakedness. So they sewed fig leaves together to cover themselves.” (Genesis 3:7)

Instantly, sin altered their instincts. What was normal became unusual. Dependency was forgotten and self-reliance was learned. Confidence shrunk into embarrassment. Their eyes opened, revealing themselves but hiding the Lord. When they heard the sound of His movement, they immediately hid—afraid of what they previously found comfort in. 

“When the cool evening breezes were blowing, the man and his wife heard the Lord God walking about in the garden. So they hid from the Lord God among the trees. Then the Lord God called to the man, ‘Where are you?’” (Genesis 3:8-9)

All of the Lord’s attention shifted to Adam, the one who had the duty of leading his wife in the way the Lord had led him. The one He built a relationship with before Eve’s arrival. The one He partnered with to do the miraculous. The one He provided for in a way that revealed His heart. 

While the Lord searched for Adam, Adam hid. He refused accountability and shifted the blame to his bride, whose mistake was rooted in his inability to lead. When it mattered most, Adam ran from his purpose and calling, submitting to the recklessness of his bride instead of committing to the will of the Lord.

“The man replied, ‘It was the woman you gave me who gave me the fruit, and I ate it.’ Then the Lord God asked the woman, ‘What have you done?’ ‘The serpent deceived me,’ she replied. ‘That’s why I ate it.’” (Genesis 3:12-13)

Adam was positioned to protect his bride from the stain of sin, knowing the consequence of disobedience. However, he still blamed his bride—attempting to release himself from the payment owed for their decisions. He was not willing to pay the cost of a debt he did not accrue on his own. He even blamed the Lord, rejecting His will made manifest through the creation of Eve. Adam was convinced that had the Lord not created her, he wouldn’t be in this position. Had Eve not existed, he wouldn’t have experienced death. He would’ve existed in perpetual bliss. The will of the Lord in creating her cost him paradise. The same Adam who sang, “Bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh,” now considered her presence a burden. 

The same Adam who named her now disowned her. 

Because the first Adam didn’t love his bride to the point of death.

Nonetheless, in the Lord’s response to the serpent’s actions, He promises a Redeemer who will stand in His responsibility and render the correct judgment. 

“‘And I will cause hostility between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring. He will strike your head, and you will strike his heel.’” (Genesis 3:15)

Instead of joining His bride’s accuser, like the first Adam, this Redeemer would reign in opposition to His bride’s accuser. He would crush his head, exerting His dominion and authority. He would endure the temporary but all-encompassing suffering of a bruised heel, signifying His willingness to receive His bride’s punishment in full. 

Surrendered to the will of the Father, the second Adam stood in His position of protecting His bride from the stain of sin—washing her with His blood instead. Knowing the cost of disobedience, He took on the blame, releasing His bride from the payment owed for her decisions. He offered Himself as the settlement to a debt He did not accrue. He honored the will of the Lord manifested through the creation of His bride, knowing His chief desire was intimacy. He was convinced that her existence was the most beautiful portion of His inheritance. Had His bride not existed, He wouldn’t have experienced death. But He chose her anyway. Her presence made His home paradise—to exist with her for all eternity is His bliss. He continues to sing over her, “Bone of My bone and flesh of My flesh!” 

Naming her as His own, He would restore her to Himself.

The second Adam loved His bride to the point of death.

The second Adam, the Redeemer, would stand in His responsibility and render the correct judgment. 

“And to the man he said, ‘Since you listened to your wife and ate from the tree whose fruit I commanded you not to eat, the ground is cursed because of you. All your life you will struggle to scratch a living from it.’” (Genesis 3:17)

The first Adam inflicted a curse, his one decision defining the course of humanity. From him would flow sorrow, defeat, and death. The second Adam broke the curse, his one decision defining the course of humanity. From Him would flow joy, victory, and eternal life. 

Born on Earth without the presence of a human father, the second Adam would host a human body. He was sent as the solution to dysfunction on Earth. It was not operating in chief effectiveness. While it could have continued to operate in its corruption, the Lord cared too much for His creation to submit it to its own perversion. 

So, He became a Man: Jesus. 

Sin was running rampant, completely dominant. Boundaries no longer existed, preventing the Lord from enjoying His wondrous inheritance. Therefore, exhibiting His trust in Jesus, the Lord handed Him over to the Earth He created with the responsibility of obedience.

Jesus’ obedience would cleanse the Father’s creation, allowing Him to be reconciled to them once more and partner with them to fulfill His purposes on Earth without hindrance. 

The Father’s creation would become Jesus’ bride, given life by the tearing of His flesh and the wounds of His hands, feet, and side. Once coming into relationship with Him, His bride would inherit His sinlessness. They could access the Father shamelessly. The order of Earth would return to being good in the Lord’s sight. Disruption, still taking the form of many hosts, no longer binds the heart of His bride. 

Sin’s mission remains the same. It doesn’t force but tempts, convincing the bride that disobedience could offer the satisfaction the Lord could not—to find beauty in the forbidden, denying the Lord’s love for her expressed through His boundaries. The allure is typically enough. With a single engagement, sin can successfully make the bride question her wondrous inheritance. Suddenly, Heaven becomes smaller than her curiosity. Suddenly, the very mercy of God feels insufficient. Suddenly, all that matters is the very thing that breaks her Father’s heart. But with a single engagement, sin can successfully make the heart of the Father no longer matter. 

Where is Jesus?

When His bride is convinced, He is never complacent. 

Jesus was the One trusted with the responsibility of perfect obedience. He’s responsible for relaying the Lord’s command to His bride. He was responsible for teaching her about His Father—the One He knew before her arrival. He’s responsible for reminding her of the Lord’s miraculous deeds, including her creation. He’s responsible for recounting all He’s partnered with the Lord in accomplishing, including the naming of all that exists around her. Perhaps sin appears to His bride because the enemy knows of Jesus’ perfection. Perhaps the enemy has more faith in the bride’s ability to remain faithful with Jesus’s help than she does. Nonetheless, Jesus convicts her of her sin—bringing her out of agreement with its counterfeit beauty and subsequently ushering her into deliverance.

Instantly, her instincts are altered. What was normal becomes unusual. Self-reliance is forgotten and dependency is learned. Embarrassment grows into confidence. Her eyes are opened, revealing the Lord and erasing her past. When she hears the sound of His movement, she runs into His arms—afraid of what she previously found comfort in. 

Palm Sunday points to the second Adam’s response. 

He enters Jerusalem, despite the looming reality, fixating His eyes on the reward: His bride. To hold her with His nail-pierced hands. To tear the veil separating them. To be her Defender and Protector in a way the first Adam never could.

He exchanges His bride’s fig leaves for palm branches, hoping the true disposition of her heart would be, “Hosanna!” —a song etched to their lungs by personal revelation. Experiencing the tangible glory of their God, the words of Psalm 118 are lifted in harmony:

“Bless the one who comes in the name of the Lord! We bless you from the house of the Lord!”