“In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth” (Genesis 1:1). With that majestic sentence, Scripture establishes a pattern that has echoed through human history: God brings order out of chaos, purpose out of emptiness, beauty out of the void. In six days, He shapes the cosmos with deliberate precision. Light obeys Him. Oceans receive their borders. Life springs into being at His command. Creation is not a random accident. It’s the expression of a divine mind who loves structure, meaning, and goodness.

Humanity, formed from dust yet bearing the image of the Eternal, is placed at the center of this order. Adam and Eve are not merely residents of Eden; they are stewards of it, rulers under God’s rule, worshipers whose obedience is the world’s proper harmony. Genesis 1 and 2 show us what life looks like when God’s order governs all things: clarity, beauty, purpose, and perfect fellowship.

Then we reach Genesis 3 — and everything trembles. The serpent whispers doubt, Eve sees the forbidden fruit, desires it, takes it, shares it, and Adam — tragically silent — follows. In that moment, the world fractures. “And the eyes of them both were opened” (Genesis 3:7). But their new awareness is not wisdom. It is exposure, guilt, and the shudder of lost innocence. Nakedness becomes a metaphor for the entire human condition: vulnerable, ashamed, attempting to hide what cannot be hidden.

Their immediate instinct? Sewing fig leaves together, humanity’s first attempt to fix spiritual disaster with cosmetic patches.

If that doesn’t describe modern American institutions, I don’t know what does.

Recent headlines read like an extended commentary on Genesis 3:7: eyes wide open to the mess, hearts not quite ready to submit to divine order, everyone rushing around with metaphorical fig leaves, hoping no one notices the unraveling stitching.

The GOP Health-Care Struggle: The Committee Room Where Fig Leaves Go to Retire

Republicans are wrestling with themselves over a unified health-care plan, and it’s begun to feel like the legislative equivalent of Adam and Eve trying to hide behind a shrub the size of a house plant. Voters are staring down premiums that rise like sourdough in a warm kitchen, while GOP lawmakers continue saying, “Don’t worry, the plan is almost finished.” Which, in political translation, means: they’ve agreed on absolutely nothing.

To be fair, Democrats aren’t exactly paragons of clarity here either. The Affordable Care Act helped many but also saddled countless families with “affordable” plans that only cover ailments occurring on the second Tuesday of a leap year. Both parties contributed to today’s labyrinth.

But conservatives have a coherent philosophical framework available to them: personal responsibility, market-driven solutions, and compassion anchored in local decision-making rather than federal sprawl. Yet instead of articulating this clearly, Republicans often seem caught in Genesis 3 panic mode: sewing policy fig leaves and hoping no one notices that the emperor (in this case, Congress) isn’t fully clothed.

James 1:8 says, “A double minded man is unstable in all his ways.” A double-minded party fares no better.

The nation needs more than flickering talking points. It needs a health-care vision with the clarity God brought to creation, not the confusion Adam brought to Eden.

Marjorie Taylor Greene’s Departure: A Majority Held Together with Fig-Leaf Thread

MTG’s resignation hasn’t just narrowed the GOP majority. It’s highlighted the party’s internal tension like a spotlight suddenly turned on after-hours. Some Republicans are disappointed because they liked her fire; others are disappointed because the majority is now so thin you could read a newspaper through it.

The deeper issue is not Greene herself but the pattern her exit reveals: a caucus divided between governing conservatives and headline-chasing performance artists. (Personally, I’d say she’s the latter.) The result is legislative paralysis so severe it makes Adam’s stunned silence in Genesis 3 look proactive.

When a majority is this fragile, every departure is a small earthquake. When unity is already fraying, every controversy becomes a fissure.

Jesus said, “Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation” (Matthew 12:25).
You don’t need Democrats, foreign adversaries, or a rogue meteor to defeat such a kingdom; internal division will do the job perfectly.

Unless Republicans rediscover a shared mission bigger than personality squabbles, the fig leaves will keep falling off at the worst possible times.

The CDC’s Hepatitis B Rollback: A Serpent’s Question in a Lab Coat

Now let’s turn to the CDC’s advisory panel. For over thirty years, newborn hepatitis B vaccination at birth has been the medical equivalent of Edenic order: simple, effective, time-tested, and overwhelmingly safe. It reduced childhood hepatitis B cases by over 95%. Doctors had clarity; parents had confidence.

And then the advisory panel voted to roll back the universal recommendation, declaring that not all newborns need the shot, despite decades of data showing the opposite.

This feels eerily familiar.

“Yea, hath God said…?” It’s not hard to hear echoes of Genesis 3 in this type of bureaucratic second-guessing.

Parents deserve rights, absolutely. But infants deserve protection, and removing a shield that has saved tens of thousands of lives is not empowerment. It’s confusion masquerading as reform.

This is policy as fig leaf: small, flimsy, and incapable of covering the real issue: ideological interference creeping into medical consensus.

When public health becomes politicized, clarity dies, and the serpent smiles.

FIFA’s Peace Prize for President Trump: A Golden Fig Leaf on a Global Stage

Ah yes, and the moment when FIFA — an organization historically known for integrity roughly on par with a Wile E. Coyote road-sign — decided to create a new “Peace Prize” and present it to President Trump.

Even if you like President Trump, you’ve got to acknowledge the obvious: FIFA is not exactly the Sanhedrin of global diplomacy. This is the same federation that can barely manage to assign referees without sparking international tabloid wars. Yet suddenly it sees itself as the custodian of world peace?

It’s as if someone in FIFA’s office said, “You know what the world needs? A peace prize from us,” and everyone else nodded because the coffee machine was broken and no one had the energy to object.

Symbolic honors can be meaningful, but only when grounded in transparent criteria, real achievement, and global credibility. Otherwise, they look like gold-plated fig leaves: shiny, but not much of a covering.

Still, if President Trump uses the recognition to advance actual peace efforts, then perhaps this odd little episode may yield fruit after all. Stranger things have happened, the Book of Numbers alone is proof.

The Epstein Files: When Fig Leaves Fall and Truth Steps Into the Light

And now some hopeful news. After years of sealed documents and unanswered questions, the Epstein Files Transparency Act has begun forcing long-hidden evidence into the open. Courts have now ordered grand-jury materials unsealed, and the public may finally learn how such a monstrous predator evaded meaningful justice for so long.

This is the opposite of Genesis 3 evasion. This is the moment when God calls out, “Where art thou,” not because He lacks knowledge, but because truth matters.

For decades, powerful individuals enjoyed the shadows while victims bore the scars. Unsealing these records doesn’t erase the harm, but it does strip away the fig leaves of secrecy that institutions too often hide behind.

Transparency is not vengeance. It is righteousness. And righteousness is the antidote to Eden’s curse.

The Jan. 6 Pipe-Bomb Arrest: Slow Justice, but Real Justice

On another positive note, nearly five years after the January 6 chaos, authorities have arrested the alleged pipe-bomb suspect: a man who reportedly confessed to planting explosive devices near both party headquarters the night before the riot.

Political violence is always wrong. Period. It doesn’t matter who does it or why. Conservatives should be the first to say so, because we believe in law, order, and the sanctity of civil society, values that flow directly from the God who ordered creation and commanded justice.

This long-awaited arrest reminds us that accountability can be delayed, but it cannot be escaped indefinitely. Even Adam and Eve were eventually found behind their fig leaves. Evil may run, but justice is patient.

A Nation Living Between Genesis 1’s Order and Genesis 3’s Confusion

Every one of these stories — disorganized political leadership, fractured majorities, muddled health policy, theatrical global awards, unsealed corruption, and delayed justice — reflects the tension between God’s intended order and humanity’s inherited disorder.

We were made for Eden. We are living in exile. And we’re very, very bad at sewing.

Adam and Eve discovered that fig leaves don’t solve problems. They just advertise them. America’s institutions keep learning the same lesson. Our political fig leaves are fancier (and occasionally gold-plated), but just as useless.

Yet Genesis 3 is not the end of the story.

God Himself clothed Adam and Eve with garments of grace, not ignoring their sin but covering it in a way they never could. Every attempt by man to fix his own corruption fails. Every covering God provides succeeds.

Which brings us to a hopeful conclusion.

From Fig Leaves to Faithfulness

If America wants restoration — not cosmetic patches — we must embrace virtues rooted in Scripture and reflected in our best conservative principles:

✔ Truth instead of spin

✔ Transparency instead of secrecy

✔ Competence instead of chaos

✔ Conviction instead of convenience

✔ Unity instead of tribal posturing

✔ Righteousness instead of expediency

✔ Humility instead of hubris

Proverbs 14:34 declares, “Righteousness exalteth a nation: but sin is a reproach to any people.”

Righteousness cannot be legislated, but it can be modeled. It can’t be mandated, but it can be chosen. It can’t be faked with fig leaves, only received through grace.

America doesn’t need perfect leaders. It needs leaders willing to abandon fig leaves and walk in the light. When we do that, our broken institutions can begin to function again. Our politics can regain sanity. Our society can rediscover hope.

The God who brought cosmos out of chaos still reigns. If we return to Him — in humility, clarity, and courage — He can bring order to our nation once again.