The Knowledge of Good and Evil

I’ve been meditating on the knowledge of good and evil and sitting with Jesus, asking Him about this topic. What follows is a reflection born out of my time with Him—broken down question by question, just as it unfolded in my heart.

What is the one and only thing that the Father did not want for His children?

The very first command God gave us was not about morality, labor, or worship—it was about not knowing good and evil. Therefore, the one and only thing Jehovah never wanted for us was: the burden of knowing good and evil for ourselves.

He didn’t want any of us carrying the weight of judgment, the need to define right and wrong apart from Him, or the consequences of moral independence.

The first thing He told His children wasn’t about doing, but not doing.

“You are free to eat from any tree… but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” – Genesis 2:16–17

This tree was not a trap. It was a boundary drawn by love. He never wanted us to bear the burden of deciding good and evil for ourselves—because that was never meant to be ours to carry.

He wanted us to have a life lived in His presence, not one filled with anxiety over moral perfection.

Eating from the tree wasn’t about a piece of fruit—it was about autonomy. It was us saying, “I’ll decide for myself. I’ll be like God.”

And that is the one and only thing He never wanted: For us to try to be like Him without Him.

Is it logical to say that partaking of the knowledge of good and evil brought death to us—and that God never wanted that?

When Adam and Eve chose to eat—they stepped into a realm God never intended for them: the realm of judgment.

They became aware of nakedness. Of shame. Of fear. Of separation.

Eating from the tree ushered in the very thing God warned them about: death entered the world—not just physical, but emotional and spiritual. But even in that moment, God’s heart was protective.

God’s next move wasn’t vengeance. It was mercy.

“He drove out the man… lest he reach out his hand and take also of the tree of life and eat, and live forever.” (Genesis 3:22–24)

This wasn’t cruel. This was the kindest boundary ever drawn. Because to live forever in a broken state—with the weight of guilt, fear, pain, and the knowledge of both good and evil—would have been eternal torment.

Removing access to the tree of life was an act of love.

Is it logical to say that the Father sent His Son, Jesus, to redeem us from the knowledge of good and evil and its consequences?

When Adam and Eve ate from the tree, we all gained:

• The burden of moral judgment

• Shame (they covered themselves)

• Fear (they hid)

• Separation from God

• And ultimately, death

Jesus came to undo all of that:

• He took our shame: “Who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame…” (Hebrews 12:2)

• He abolished fear: “Perfect love drives out fear…” (1 John 4:18)

• He reconciled us: “Through Him to reconcile to Himself all things…” (Colossians 1:20)

• He overcame death: “I am the resurrection and the life…” (John 11:25)

The Father sent His only begotten Son, Jesus, to redeem us from the knowledge that broke us—the burden of trying to live by our own judgment of good and evil. Through Jesus, we return to what was lost: intimacy, life, and trust in God’s voice above our own.

Through Him, we are no longer slaves to shame, fear, and moral self-reliance.

“I am the way, the truth, and the life.” (John 14:6)

He didn’t offer more knowledge—He offered Himself.

Is it logical to say that if today we ask God for the knowledge of good and evil it is actually against His will for us?

Asking God for the knowledge of good and evil is asking Him to give us something He never wanted for us. It’s not a request rooted in trust, but in fear and control. It is asking for the very thing He sent Jesus to rescue us from: a life defined by moral judgment instead of relational intimacy.

• The tree was off-limits not because God was withholding power, but because He was protecting innocence and intimacy.

• Knowing good and evil apart from God means trying to be righteous without relationship.

So yes, asking God for the knowledge of good and evil today still reflects that same misstep: wanting to judge, rather than trust.

• Jesus didn’t come to upgrade our moral awareness—He came to restore our dependence on the Father.

• The New Covenant doesn’t promise better knowledge—it offers a better relationship: “ They will all know me.” (Jeremiah 31:34)

He came to lead us back to the voice of God.

Asking our Father for the knowledge of good and evil misses the point of redemption.

It’s a form of saying: “I want to know what’s right so I can handle life without needing You.”

But Jesus said:

“I am the vine; you are the branches. Apart from me, you can do nothing.” (John 15:5)

Is it logical to say that asking the Father for this knowledge is history repeating itself—that it’s the serpent tempting us again?

The enemy hasn’t changed tactics—just packaging. Today, it might sound more spiritual:

• “God, show me what’s right and wrong so I can walk perfectly.”

• “Help me judge rightly so I never mess up.”

• “Make me wise so I don’t need to rely on others.”

But underneath it all is the same seed:

“I don’t want to walk with You—I want to walk on my own.”

That is still the voice of the serpent. It tempts us to substitute intimacy with information, relationship with religious self-sufficiency. In Genesis 3:5, the serpent said:

“God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”

That temptation wasn’t about fruit—it was about control. About becoming like God without God. When we ask today for the knowledge of good and evil, we echo that same temptation: “Give me enough insight so I can walk this life on my own.”

But Jesus shows a better way:

“I do nothing on my own… I speak just what the Father has taught me.” (John 8:28) “Not my will, but Yours be done.” (Luke 22:42)

He didn’t reach for the fruit. He reached for the Father.

What I’ve concluded after sitting with the Holy Spirit and asking these questions is that:

God never wanted us to carry the knowledge of good and evil. He wanted us to walk with Him. To hear His voice. To rest in His presence.

So no, I won’t ask for the knowledge of good and evil. I will ask for closeness. For daily bread. For my Father’s voice. For His presence.