The Trees of the Garden

The Genesis description of the Garden of Eden is one of the richest images in all of Scripture. At the center of the image are the tree of knowledge and the tree of life and the flaming sword wielded by the cherubim. I would like to offer an interpretation of this image which is partly mine and partly Augustine’s and Aquinas’.

It may be that the trees in the garden were literal plants, but it could be that they are figurative. Whether they are or not, there seems to be a spiritual meaning behind them. After all, whatever they were, they were not what we would consider ordinary trees.

First a general comment. Genesis says that “the Lord God made all kinds of trees to grow from the ground” in the garden. Perhaps these trees represent the availability of knowledge on every subject imaginable. This is plausible because the Garden of Eden was Adam and Eve’s headquarters in ruling the earth. To take on such a large task they would have to have abundant knowledge about everything. Not only this but the trees were “pleasing to the eye and good for food;” both intellectually and physically refreshing.

If this is so, we can give an interesting interpretation to Eden which means “delight.” The delight may have consisted of an enjoyment of knowledge about everything that they wished: the heavens, the earth, physical law, the spiritual nature of the human being, and whatever else they chose.

Now I think that under this interpretation the “tree of life” consisted of the direct contemplation of God that Adam and Eve enjoyed in the garden. Their minds and spirits were fed directly by the truth of God, and this life overflowed into their bodies, giving them a physical and spiritual radiance and keeping them from the possibility of physical death.

The tree of the knowledge of good and evil, however, represents the possibility of pushing God out of their thoughts through obtaining knowledge apart from Him: ideas that were contrary to His kingdom. This would subject them to a world of good and evil—where death reigns and God’s will is not done. These ideas of distrust and disinterest in God would be Satan’s tool for dominating human history. And so Satan drew Eve’s desire away from God by tempting her to set herself up as a god. Ironically, this would lead to the loss of the godlike status that Adam and Eve enjoyed in the garden.

Having then tasted the fruit—or knowledge— of good and evil, their “eyes were opened.” They now saw the world in light of merely human possibilities. Their thoughts no longer connected them to God, and they were doomed to have to manage their lives on their own (“by the sweat of your brow”). Apparently their close marital bond immediately was not what it had been (3:12, 16). Part of this was a natural result of their disobedience; and part of this was a matter of God no longer supporting them in every part of their souls and experience.

Banished from the garden, knowledge was no longer at their fingertips. And God saw that in this darkened state, direct knowledge of Him was no longer appropriate. And so He placed an angel between man and God, with a dangerous flaming sword. This terrifying angelic presence was later manifested at the giving of the Law. It guarded the way to God’s presence from a benighted and sinful humanity and even manifested physical fire amidst the rebellious Israelites (Numbers 11).

I think that this interpretation makes sense of John’s use of the image of the tree of life in Revelation (22:2). In the New Jerusalem we will again know the intimacy with God that was lost at the beginning of history. This tree will yield twelve fruits every year, nourishing us appropriately with the deepest mysteries of the Trinity.