The snake in the Garden of Eden is described as being “naked” – which is the exact same word commonly translated as “guile.” The Hebrew is arum. Which seems to suggest a paradox. After all, it is clothes that display falsehood, not nakedness, right?
I think there is a way we can understand this that does not require us to ignore the textual wordplay, but instead to embrace it. Here goes:
I posit that “natural” reality is nakedness, the pursuit of our animalistic goals whether for power or aggrandizement or pleasure. Arum, to use the modern expression, is being true to yourself!
The Torah commands us to not be arum, to not act for the sake of our instinctive desires, but instead for a higher calling, and higher ideals. Acting with arum blocks us from connecting with G-d, because we are driven by our naked self-interest. Serving our physical self-interest does not build holy relationships or investments in other people, to empathize with others – and with G-d.
But if a man come presumptuously upon his neighbour, to slay him with arum; thou shalt take him from my altar, that he may die.
Arum is specifically called out: murder for our own gain is an expression of self-obsession, and evidence that the murderer is incapable of nurturing positive relationships.
The Torah calls us to reject our physical reality, and our physical instincts. And instead, we are supposed to create a new reality, to clothe ourselves, to override instinct, and pursue non-physical connections. It is why we believe, against our natures, in monogamy, in fidelity, in investments in children (think of all the absent fathers), and other people that will never earn us a tangible, measurable return on that investment.
Arum is mankind in a state of nature, albeit in possession of a mind that allows us to plot ways to get what we want. Which is how the snake convinced Eve to eat the fruit. What happens?
And the eyes of the two of them were opened and they knew [then] that they were arum. They sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths.
Adam and Eve became aware not merely of nakedness, but of the challenge of physical instincts and desires that we are supposed to overcome. (Adam and Eve’s first act is to find clothing, to avoid seeing themselves as arum.) The snake had made them more like himself: aware of and connected to the temptations of the flesh.
The question is really who is in charge: do our spiritual gifts work to satisfy our instinctive desires, or do we harness our physical selves for a higher purpose?
The Torah tells us, in how it uses this word, that our physical reality, our arum, is not the reality to which we are supposed to aspire!