The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil: The Legacy of Fruit Pluckers

And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, “Of every tree of the garden you may freely eat; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die” (Genesis 2:16–19 NKJV).

In the annuls of Biblical stories, Adam and Eve’s disobedience stands above the rest as the cause of all our problems. “Eat from any tree you like in this beautiful garden, just don’t choose the fruit of this one.”

But, of course, they did. So here we are.

The whole fiasco eventually gave birth to the notion of “original sin”—a doctrine that seems to imply every generation has inherited the guilt of Adam and Eve.

We certainly suffer many consequences from our predecessors’ mistakes. There’s even a place for apologizing for the sins of our ancestors in their names. But have we inherited their guilt?

As I read the Genesis story again, I wondered just what was the problem with eating of this bit of flora with the peculiar name—the tree of the knowledge of good and evil? In the whole of God’s words in Genesis 6:16, one word seems especially important to me.

And.

All that God had created up to this point was good. In fact, He declared it was very good (Genesis 1:31). Never before had Adam and Eve experienced evil.

But there was this tree.

Its branches drooped with juicy opportunities to know what God would classify as not good. Satan tickled their fancies with the possibilities. They could be like God and peek into the world of the forbidden. More than just peek. They could know.

The Hebrew word used in these passages implies something more than head knowledge. It’s basically the same word used in Genesis 4:1. “Now Adam knew Eve his wife, and she conceived.”

Know. Experience. Be intimately acquainted with.

This was the temptation Satan offered the couple—the opportunity to handle, to feel, to taste the forbidden. I’d like to think I’d be smart enough to resist, had the opportunity been offered to me. But I share the inconvenient human characteristic passed down to every generation who followed our first forefather and mother.

Curiosity.

Instead of guilt, I think what we inherited from Adam and Eve is the tendency to be too curious for our own good.

Here’s where that little word and comes in. The tree offered the opportunity not only to be intimately acquainted with all the good God had already shared with them, but to simultaneously have a clear knowledge of the evil He hoped to withhold from them. The knowledge of good and evil.

We seem to possess a sometimes irrepressible urge to know whether it would really be all that bad to do what God (or anyone else for that matter) said was wrong. If something is forbidden, we want to know why—we want to judge for ourselves. “Just how wrong (or dangerous, or hurtful, or unhealthy) could it be to taste and see for myself? How can I commit to leaving this alone if I don’t first know what it is I’m giving up?”

The tendency first shows up in young children. Tell a two-year-old not to touch a hot stove or put that bug in his mouth and he’ll look you right in the eye as he slowly stretches out his hand.

It doesn’t stop during the teenage years. Young people hear the warnings not to smoke, do drugs, or have sex out of marriage and many find the need to first know what they’re being asked to do without.

Nor do we grow out of it in adulthood. Something may be called evil or even abominable in Scripture, but how do I know if an idea is true or false unless I test it for myself? Of course, I love what is good. But won’t I make wiser decisions if I know, experience, or at least taste what is classified as evil?

So, what do you think we’ve inherited from Adam and Eve? Guilt or the need to know? Better yet, what should we do about it? How do we resist the urge to reach out for forbidden fruit?