From Eden to the End: The Test of Faith

Eve chatting with the Serpent

The first test humanity ever faced was in Eden. Adam and Eve stood before the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, confronted not with a question of appetite but of faith. The real issue was not the fruit itself—whether it was an apple or any other kind—but whether they trusted the word of God. Would they believe that His work was already perfect, that He had given them everything for their good? Or would they accept the serpent’s insinuation that God was withholding something, that His work was incomplete? From the very beginning, the contest has been the same: trust in God’s perfect work, or doubt His goodness and rely on something else.

That same principle continued in the very next generation. Cain and Abel both brought offerings, but they brought them from different sources. Abel brought the lamb God had provided, a symbol of Christ’s perfect sacrifice. Cain brought the fruit of his own labor, the work of his own hands. God accepted Abel’s sacrifice but rejected Cain’s. The issue was never about quality but about trust. Abel placed his faith in God’s provision, while Cain trusted his own work. This story exposes the line that runs through all of history: salvation comes only through God’s work, never by human effort.

The story of Israel carried this forward. Again and again, God tested His people with commands that defied human logic, commands designed to expose whether they trusted His word. Israel marched around Jericho for seven days, and the walls fell—not because marching has power, but because faith does. Moses held up his staff in battle, and victory came—not because wood brings success, but because obedience showed reliance on God. Gideon reduced his army to a mere remnant against overwhelming numbers, and triumph came—not through human might, but through trust in God’s promise. Each incident stripped away self-reliance and forced a choice between the work of man and the word of God.

Nowhere was this more clear than in the wilderness with manna. God told Israel to gather a daily portion and not store it overnight. On the sixth day, they were to gather double, and on the seventh day—the Sabbath—there would be none. Human reasoning said bread would spoil overnight, and it did on every day but one. On the Sabbath, the double portion remained fresh. The point was unmistakable: trust My word even when it contradicts your experience. Manna was never about food storage; it was a school in faith. And the Sabbath was at the very center of that test.

To understand why this matters, we go back to creation. For six days God worked, and at the end of each day He declared His work good—perfect, lacking nothing. On the seventh day He rested, not because He was weary, but because the work was finished. It was the courtroom sense of resting one’s case: nothing more to add, nothing more required. The Sabbath became God’s signature on creation, His stamp of perfection. Every seventh day He calls us to remember that only He creates perfectly, only He saves perfectly, and that our role is not to add to His work but to rest in it.

The prophets and apostles carried this truth into the realm of salvation. David prayed, “Create in me a clean heart, O God,” recognizing that salvation is creation, not self-improvement. Nicodemus was told, “You must be born again,” not remodeled but remade. The same divine power that spoke the universe into existence is the power that recreates the human heart. Even in the New Testament, Christ marveled at those who grasped this truth. When the Roman centurion said, “Just say the word, and my servant will be healed,” Jesus declared He had not found such great faith in Israel. Trust in God’s word without demand for visible proof—that is the essence of the test.

All of history moves toward a final exam built on the same principle as the first. Just as one equation in mathematics can prove whether a student has mastered the subject, one issue will expose where humanity places its trust. The Sabbath is God’s seal, His stamp of perfection, the memorial of His finished work. In contrast, the number six represents humanity—our labor, our substitutes, our efforts to improve upon what God has already completed. The last conflict will crystallize into this question: Do we rest in God’s work, or do we trust in man’s? Do we hold to God’s Sabbath, or do we accept man’s substitute?

The prophetic application of this truth cannot be ignored. The final exam is not theoretical. It comes when church and state unite to enforce man’s authority in the place of God’s command. Scripture points to a time when human power, under the guise of piety, will require compliance with a substitute for God’s Sabbath. This will not be a small matter of scheduling or preference. It will be the ultimate question of faith: will we rest in the perfect work of God, or yield to the imperfect work of man? From Eden to Cain, from Jericho to manna, the line has always been the same. At the end of history, it will simply be unavoidable. Will we have faith in God’s completed and perfect work or will we trust in our own efforts.