The Central Question of the Tree of Knowledge⤒🔗

This text brings us directly into contact with that peculiar tree which takes such a central place in the history of fall and curse: the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

We are immediately faced with several questions:

1. What does that name mean?
2. Why did God call this tree by that name?
3. Why did God give the prohibition to eat from the fruit of this tree?

The Meaning of the Name←⤒🔗

There is general agreement about the meaning of the name. It means “the tree of the capacity to distinguish between good and evil.” And you must not understand “good” and “evil” here in the moral sense. “Good” here is no indication of obedience or piety, and “evil” in this connection does not mean sin.

No, both words here have a very general meaning: not only about the ability to distinguish between obedience and sin, right and wrong, but also between advantage and disadvantage, profit and loss, benefit and harm, and so on. This tree is therefore the tree of the capacity to distinguish between good and evil in general; to know what brings benefit and what causes harm; which way we must take in order to obtain happiness and avoid disaster.

If you consult the Bible in other places about this expression, you discover that according to biblical usage, small children and very old people lack this capacity to make this distinction. One knows the peculiarities of little children, and also the strange phenomena we observe in old people whose mental faculties begin to decline, who, as we then say, become “childlike” again. Little children do not yet know what is good for them and what is not. They see no danger. They play happily with a knife; they touch a glowing stove.

So here it is about that capacity to distinguish in the broadest sense of the word. About that, all interpreters agree.

Why Was the Tree Given This Name?←⤒🔗

But more difficult than this first question is the second one we posed: Why did God call this tree so? Did man receive this insight by eating from the tree, or by not eating from it?

In Reformed circles, people generally prefer the latter. They say that God wanted by this prohibition to put man to the test, to see whether he wanted to do what God commanded him, yes or no. And if he remained obedient, and thus did not eat from this tree, he would, as a reward for his obedience, receive the “knowledge of good and evil”: that is, the capacity to know in every situation how he must act in order to have benefit and avoid harm. The tree is therefore called this because man would receive this distinguishing capacity if he did not eat from it.

Did the Tree Actually Give Insight?←⤒🔗

Yet I wonder whether this is correct. I believe that the data of Scripture point in another direction. When the devil tries to tempt Eve, he says to her: “God knows that on the day you eat from it, you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” The serpent therefore says that man will receive that insight when he does eat. Now one can of course say that the devil lied, but that does not seem very plausible to me. For indeed, when Eve looks at the tree, she also sees that it is “desirable to make one wise” (or, according to Professor Aalders’ translation: desirable to gain understanding). The woman therefore somehow gets the impression from the appearance of the tree that this tree will indeed give the desired capacity to distinguish when one eats from it. In what way she discovered this, from what peculiarities she thought she could deduce it, we must leave aside. But it is certain that she was convinced the tree would give that insight when one ate from it.

Besides the arguments I derive from Genesis 3:5 (the word of the devil) and Genesis 3:6 (Eve’s impression), Genesis 3:7 is also important: “Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked.” What the devil had suggested and what Eve thought she could infer from the appearance of the tree is fulfilled. They really make a discovery, as their eyes are opened, and they gain insight.

Furthermore, Genesis 3:11 is significant. When Adam has said that they hid themselves because of their nakedness, the Lord answers: “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” Here the Lord also connects the newly acquired insight with the eating of the tree. To what else do they owe this unpleasant awareness of their nakedness than to the tree?

And finally there is Genesis 3:22: “Behold, the man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil.” Here the Lord says expressly that man, now that he has eaten, has indeed come to the knowledge of good and evil.

When we consider all this, we must conclude that all these data point in the same direction: that man received the capacity to distinguish between good and evil, in the broadest sense of the word, by eating from the forbidden tree. We now have a fivefold proof of this: just read carefully the texts mentioned—Genesis 3:5, 6, 7, 11, 22.

The Tree as the Tree of Practical Insight←⤒🔗

Thus, it became clear that by the tree of the knowledge of good and evil we must understand the tree that would provide the person eating from it with the capacity to distinguish between good and evil in the broadest sense of the word. That is a very long sentence, which I cannot repeat each time. Therefore, we can phrase it a bit more briefly: that it is the tree of practical insight into life, the tree of wisdom for living.

Why the Prohibition?←⤒🔗

Now, of course, the question immediately arises: Why did God forbid man to eat from this tree?

I have already pointed out that Reformed writers are usually of the opinion that this tree was called so because man would receive this life-insight if he did not eat from it. If one asks them why God forbade eating from this tree, the answer is fairly generally given: that this command was entirely arbitrary. God could just as well have issued such a prohibition regarding pears or apples. But he chose, entirely arbitrarily, this tree of knowledge. His only intention was simply to test man to see whether he would voluntarily serve the Lord, yes or no. From this perspective, this test-command is therefore not intrinsically connected with the entirely peculiar character of this tree, but is only due to God’s sovereign decision.

But I reject this view. In my opinion, this tree owes its name not to man’s not eating, but to man’s eating. And so it seems equally unlikely to me that this test-command was entirely arbitrary. It appears to me that the prohibition to eat follows necessarily from the very particular character of this tree.

This must be explained further.

The Covenant Context←⤒🔗

For in the explanation I have given above regarding the name, the question becomes even more pressing: Why did God nevertheless issue the test-command? If this tree granted wisdom and insight into life to the eater, then this tree was indeed the most important in the entire garden. For we certainly need this insight. One could manage without fruit if necessary; but without practical wisdom, life becomes a great failure. You know this from your own life. We have to make various decisions daily. And not everything is always of great consequence. Sometimes they are relatively small matters. But many times, it is a decision of far-reaching significance. How often do we not face the question: What should I do now? Shall I choose this or that? Shall I take this direction or that one? Must I do this or that? A businessman who buys at the wrong moment suffers a loss. One who provides their children with an education for which they lack the capacities causes misfortune, even if he means well. The children do not progress, although it costs him resources to, as he vainly hopes, multiply their talents. And so you can think of many examples.

 But this tree—which God had, so to speak, given us in order to grant the right insight whenever we stand before a weighty choice—this tree is precisely the one we need above all. Why then did God forbid eating from this tree?

The answer must be that there was a second way for man to obtain this insight. He could receive it through the tree; that is one way. But he could also receive it from God himself!

Now I may assume some knowledge of the Reformed doctrine of the “covenant of works” among my readers. There was also a covenant in paradise. That is, Adam walked with God, as a child with his father. God came to him in the garden during the day. God dealt with him intimately. Adam could, therefore, regardless of which decision he faced in life, go to his God so that he would teach him the way he must choose.

Adam therefore had two possibilities. He could go to that tree; then he would know what he wished to know. But he could also go to his God with the plea: “Send your light and your truth, that they may guide me, and bring me to the mount of your holiness and to your dwelling places.” When he seeks his insight at the tree, he does not need God. Then he stands on his own feet and can make all his decisions without external help.

When he eats, he thereby says to God, “I do not need you; I can find my way by my own light; I can very well make my future independently.”

But he can also say, “I want to remain dependent; I want to walk on God’s lead and draw all my wisdom from the Word of my heavenly Father.” If he does not eat, he thereby confesses, “Father, I could go to the tree in the middle of the garden and make my life decisions independently of you. But I do not want that. You have bound yourself to me in great love and made me, as a child, heir of your world. You have involved me in all things. Now I, on my part, want no life apart from you. Whom do I have besides you in heaven? Besides you, I desire nothing on earth. I want no secret from you, but in everything to honour you as my Father. I want only to live according to your Word. In your light, I see light.”

Eating as Covenant Breaking←⤒🔗

From this it is now clear that the test-command was not arbitrary but necessarily flowed from the entirely unique nature of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

To eat from that tree is to reject the revealing light of God’s Word. It means not wanting to follow the path of childlike dependence and attachment. It means not wanting to believe.

In our discussion above, we came to two conclusions regarding the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. In my opinion (my readers should take note of these two points, for in our circles there is considerable difference of thought on this matter; the exegesis I give here is therefore only a proposal for further reflection), in my opinion, this name means “the tree of the capacity to distinguish between good and evil in the broadest sense of the word; thus the tree of practical insight into life; the tree of wisdom for living.”

And the second point I proposed for consideration was this: In my judgment, the test-command was not arbitrary, but flowed from the entirely unique character of this tree. Adam had a second way in which he could receive this practical wisdom. He, who lived in covenant with God, was thereby called to a life of childlike dependence and attachment to his Father. This also meant that he would make his life decisions only in faithful acceptance of the Word-revelation of his God and Father. When he ate from the tree, he thereby set aside the revelation, thus refusing to follow the path in childlike faith. Therefore, eating from this tree as such meant breaking the covenant.

The Tree of Life←⤒🔗

We must now say something about the nature of that one form of punishment that , according to the above-cited verses, consisted in the closing of the way to the tree of life.

It goes without saying that this explanation is connected with what has been set forth above, and therefore is given only with the aforementioned caveat. We merely want to attempt a satisfactory explanation of the difficulties that lie here in human life.

The question now is this: What significance does the tree of life have?

Scripture itself says this: “...and take also from the tree of life, and eat, and live forever.” It seems to me that this can hardly mean anything other than that eating from the fruit of this tree would have granted man eternal life. Other passages of Scripture where this tree is mentioned also seem to point in the same direction.

Eternal Life as Mature Life←⤒🔗

However, since “eternal life” is a term susceptible to two interpretations, I must give some further explanation.

We usually understand “eternal life” in the sense of blessed life, eternal joy; that which God’s children will fully possess after the last day in the kingdom of glory.

In this sense, I do not understand it here. But we all know that man was created with a temporal life. That is, a life full of possibilities. Reformed dogmatics, following Augustine, emphasized the mutability of Adam’s life. It was indeed good and beautiful without any defect; but it had not yet reached its ultimate destination. A child is a complete human being, but not yet fully grown. So human life in paradise was still “in its infancy”: complete, yet not mature.

And now God wanted to bring him to that mature life, in which no further change was possible. After the growth period, he was to come to the rest of the mature life.

I understand the tree of life thus: this tree would bring man, when he ate from it, to his ultimate destination. Its fruit would carry him in a single leap to the stage of mature life. That would, of course, mean eternal joy if he remained obedient; but likewise, eternal death in case of transgression.

“Eternal” here thus does not have the positive sense of “blessed,” but the neutral meaning of “fully grown.” (My attention was drawn to this by a note on this text in the well-known commentary of Strack-Zöckler.) As with the other tree, we must also note here that we cannot form any conception of the way in which this effect was connected with the fruit. We must even refrain from conjecture. The only thing we can say is this: that this fruit would bring life in a state of full maturity.

The Punishment: The Way Closed←⤒🔗

From this, the punishment administered here now becomes clear. God drives man out of Eden, so that he no longer has the opportunity to eat from the tree of life. In doing so, God cuts off the possibility of reaching the rest of the mature life. The Lord executes this punishment so radically that he places cherubim at the east of the garden, and the flaming sword that turns every way.

We must not understand this superficially as merely an angel with a drawn sword. Cherubim are in the Bible always the throne-spirits of God. Psalm 18 even says that God rides upon a cherub. They appear wherever God descends. So when cherubim stand there, it means that God himself blocks the way. Whoever wishes to approach paradise must pass God himself, and falls under his sword, which is in restless motion. It is therefore completely impossible ever to reach paradise again.

Life After the Fall←⤒🔗

And so man must now live and work. He must labour upon the earth from which he was taken.

But how different this is from before—when he was given the garden to tend. In the garden he could work in unbroken joy. And whenever he ate from the tree of life, he could turn that joy into an imperishable one, a joy that could never again be taken away.

But now he must work the earth far from the tree of life. He has no possibility of securing the results of his labour forever, no chance of holding on to them permanently. He begins a life of toil marked by restless motion and ceaseless change. Everything shifts. What he builds today collapses tomorrow; and the day after, something else stands in its place. His life no longer comes to rest; it no longer reaches its goal.

No one can ever say, “Now I have arrived; now I am where I ought to be.” For as soon as he says it, death overtakes him, and he takes nothing with him of all that he so carefully gathered (think of Psalm 39, and of the parable of the rich fool in Luke 12).

No one can ever say, “Now I am finished.” For when he says it, all that he built crumbles, and he must begin again. He no longer works with the prospect of making his life eternal, of securing his happiness, of fixing his future forever. Instead, all his labour bears that restless stamp.

No longer does he work with his eyes fixed on the tree of life, knowing that “to the earth from which I was taken I shall never return.” Instead, he works with this in mind: “One day I will go back there—to the earth from which God once took me—knowing full well what that means.”

Grace in Judgment←⤒🔗

But here I must underline this: it is the God of the mother promise who carries out this punishment. And that always means that the punishment is not unmixed, for God, even in wrath, remembers mercy. This twofold character—judgment and grace—we see here as well.

Yes, the curse struck life with dreadful severity. But at the same time, we must confess that here too God magnifies his grace.

For what would have happened if man, after his fall, had eaten of the tree of life? Then no redemption could ever have been possible. His fall would instantly have hardened into eternity; his curse would have been irreversible.

But God closed the way to the tree of life. That does mean restlessness, uncertainty, frailty, death. Yet history continues. And that means that there remains the possibility of change for the good, the possibility of redemption, the possibility of repentance.

Had man eaten of the tree of life, his existence would at once have been fully matured, sealed in permanence—and no salvation could ever have come. But because God barred the garden, the story goes on. Now God clears the way for Christ—Christ who will pass the cherubim, Christ who will fall under the flaming sword of God, and so reopen the gate of paradise for all who believe in him.

He dies—he cannot pass unhindered. But by his death he again opens the way to the tree of life. And he assures the thief: “Today you shall be with me in paradise.”

And when he enters paradise, he presses on to the very heart of God’s garden, where the tree of life stands, and he eats its fruit. That is why, on Easter morning, he rises from the dead and declares, “I live! I was dead, and behold—I live for ever and ever.”

And so now, in all the brokenness of this life, we lift up our eyes to him. For he gives us this promise: “To the one who overcomes I will give to eat from the tree of life, which is in the midst of the paradise of God.”