The Genesis account describes two specific trees, the Tree of Life, and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. God did not forbid the Tree of Life; apparently, its fruit would allow one to live forever. The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, however, represented the relationship boundaries between the Creator and the created. Adam and Eve didn’t like the idea of limits and were willing to risk death to be like God. Once they took that fateful step, the relationship was forever changed. God could no longer stroll with His image bearers beside still waters, or rest and enjoy the Garden view from His green pastures. Instead, Adam and Eve defiantly blazed their own trails, trampling the “good” landscape, ignoring the No Trespassing sign, and then stealing fruit that was never theirs to begin with. They had violated the holy relationship parameters and God had no choice but to practice tough love, expel them from the garden, and send them to teen wilderness boot camp. Just like a tearful parent with a rebellious child, He implored them to “make good choices” as He watched them step outside the garden gate.

Mankind, a little bit perturbed at being expelled, crossed his arms, turned his back on God, and said, “Fine! I don’t need your stinking paradise anyway. I can build my own garden. In fact, I have a little God knowledge of my own, so I’ll do it myself.”

We have been trying to construct our own garden ever since. Not learning our lesson, we strategically place the knowledge of good and evil in the center, but instead of placing warning signs around it, we make it wheelchair accessible so everyone has the opportunity to drop a coin in the vending machine of evil. Attracted by the glimmering treats inside we feel compelled to sample every item in the machine, but then feel sick because our brief sinful sugar high has been replaced by the hypoglycemic crash of consequence. Unperturbed, we fool ourselves into believing that the stomachache of our excess is merely the rumblings of an evolving inner god.