The Mystery of the Two Trees in Paradise

The Interpretation of Saint Gregory of Nysse and Saint Gregory of Nazianzus

The Garden of Eden (1828), by Thomas Cole. (source)

At a distance of 1300 years away from the time when Saint Isidore of Seville composed his Etymologies and more than nine centuries since Saint Thomas Aquinas wrote Summa Theologiae, we know that, besides the invaluable lights projected by the work of eternal wisdom through these Christian geniuses, in a certain point they were wrong: the lost paradise cannot be found geographically here, on earth—protected by an inaccessible height or surrounded by a huge wall of fire. Christopher Columbus himself, convinced that he would have crossed the region in the vicinity of the garden of eternal life, was the victim of an ‘optical error’ that was corrected by the complete, exhaustive exploration of the entire earth.

But to all those who will rush to conclude that the story told in the first chapters of Genesis is just a ‘myth’ we promptly answer back: the establishing of the non-existence of the hypothetical earthly locations of paradise does not imply, in any form, the denying of its historical, real existence. Certainly, Adam and Eve have existed just as both the tree of knowledge and the tempting snake. But the ontological nature of their existence or, more properly said, the condition of their lives before their original sin was much different from what we, their descendants, are living now.

To get the complete and correct answers to all the key questions regarding that period of the world’s history before the original sin is not an easy task. To fulfill it, we have access to all the writings of those saints, doctors and mystics of the Christian Tradition, who have left us as an invaluable treasure some interpretations that elucidate, as far as possible, the mystery of the real existence of Eden. Before reading and analyzing these texts, let us list all those questions whose answers will allow us to obtain a clear picture of the mysterious origins of man:

What is the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil? What is the nature of original sin? Who or what is the serpent who tempted Eve? What are those ‘garments of skins’ with which God clothed Adam and Eve after their transgression? What are those cherubim who prevent our access to heaven? What is that ‘flaming sword, turning every way’?

From the list proposed above we will address the first two questions—with the help of one of the most profound speculative thinkers belonging to the Patristic era, Saint Gregory of Nyssa. In order to eliminate, from the beginning, certain erroneous interpretations, we will point out that the biblical account does not match the famous fairy tale written by brothers Grimm, Snow White. Adam and Eve did not bite from an apple…

Through his deep spiritual interpretation, Saint Gregory of Nysse establishes the lines of a vast philosophical-metaphysical frame inspired by the biblical text from which we learn that “the Lord God brought forth of the ground all manner of trees, fair to behold, and pleasant to eat of: the tree of life also in the midst of paradise: and the tree of knowledge of good and evil (Genesis 2: 9).” In his commentary to the Canticle of Canticles he emphasizes an ‘anomaly’ which is the basis of an extraordinary interpretation:

The tree from which it was prohibited to eat was not the fig tree as some have maintained, nor any other fruit trees. If the fig was then deadly, neither would it be edible now. At the same time, we have learned from our Lord, ‘It is not what goes into the mouth which can defile a man’ (Matthew 15:11). But we seek another meaning in this statement which is worthy of the lawgiver’s majesty.

If we hear that paradise was planted by God and that the tree of life is in the center of paradise, we seek to learn from The One who reveals the hidden mysteries of which plants is the Father both the husbandman and the vine dresser, and how it is possible that there are two trees in the middle of paradise, one of salvation and the other of destruction. For the exact center as in the drawing of a circle has only one point. However, if another center is somehow placed beside or added to that first one, it is necessary that another circle be added for that center so that the former one is no longer in the middle.

There was only one paradise. How, then, does the text say that each tree is to be considered separately while both are in the middle? And the text, which reveals that all of God's works are exceedingly beautiful, implies that the deadly tree is different from God’s (Genesis 1:31). How is this so? Unless a person contemplates the truth through love of Wisdom, what the text says here will be either inconsistent or a fable.

The idea implied by the commentator is crystal clear. Even though in the biblical text we learn about two distinct trees, the fact that they are placed simultaneously in the center of Paradise shows that there is a unique reality represented through both of them. As we will see later on, this reality is accessible through two distinct, radically opposite ways.

In his extended commentary on Genesis entitle On the Making of Man (Lat. De opificio hominis), Saint Gregory of Nysse explains the nature of these two trees. The ‘tree of life’ is the Divine Wisdom itself. This definition is based on the famous saying of Solomon from his Book of Proverbs (3: 18):

She (i.e. the divine Wisdom) is a tree of life to them that lay hold on her: and he that shall retain her is blessed.

On this Saint Gregory of Nyssa adds that through Divine Wisdom we, as believers, have to understand God Himself. As about the “tree of knowledge of good and evil” Saint Gregory shows that is related to the very notion of knowledge:

What then is that which includes the knowledge of good and evil blended together, and is decked with the pleasures of sense? I think I am not aiming wide of the mark in employing, as a starting-point for my speculation, the sense of knowable. It is not, I think, science which the Scripture here means by knowledge; but I find a certain distinction, according to Scriptural use, between knowledge and discernment: for to discern skillfully the good from the evil, the Apostle says is a mark of a more perfect condition and of exercised senses.

Saint Gregory of Nyssa opens the doors of understanding of the nature of those two trees from Paradise by focusing our attention on the concept of ‘knowledge’—the key which allows the right interpretation of the nature of the forbidden fruit and, simultaneously, of the fallen of Adam and Eve. According to this understanding, the very act of eating should be understood as a sort of a transformative knowledge. To offer a better understanding of this statement, we will present the theory of one of the most brilliant Doctors of the Church—an extraordinary philosophical genius—from all epochs: Saint Gregory of Nazianzus. In one of his sermons he states the following:

He (God) gave him (i.e. the man) a Law, as a material for his Free Will to act upon. This Law was a Commandment as to what plants he might partake of, and which one he might not touch. This latter was the Tree of Knowledge; not, however, because it was evil from the beginning when planted; nor was it forbidden because God grudged it to us... Let not the enemies of God wag their tongues in that direction, or imitate the Serpent... But it would have been good if partaken of at the proper time, for the tree was, according to my theory, Contemplation, upon which it is only safe for those who have reached maturity of habit to enter; but which is not good for those who are still somewhat simple and greedy in their habit; just as solid food is not good for those who are yet tender, and have need of milk (Hebrews 5:12).

Saint Gregory of Nazianzus commentary clarifies the interpretation developed by Saint Gregory of Nysse around the concept of ‘contemplation.’ He specifies how, depending on the moment when the act of contemplative knowledge takes place, the consequences can be positive or negative. This was because the knowledge of any creature could be performed by Adam and Eve in two radically different ways. The first one, in accordance with the principle of original divine justice, seeks the divine reasons (or ‘patterns’) throughout the whole creation. In other words, even when Adam and Eve were contemplating the creatures they were able to see through their meaningful design the Creator Himself. This type of contemplation, centered on God, reveals the Creator even when looking at the creatures. But because of their free wills, another type of contemplation (i.e. knowledge) was possible.

This one—by ignoring and forgetting the Creator of all existing things—it is caught in the crushing grip of an experience based exclusively on seeking earthly, bodily pleasures and avoiding any kind of pains. Tempted by devil, Adam and Eve fell through the maximization of this type of knowledge and the exclusion of the divine contemplation. This episode, related in the third chapter of Genesis, presents the accentuation of the external, sensitive, stimulating qualities—in a hedonistic sense—of the forbidden fruit which instantly became “good to eat, and fair to the eyes, and delightful to behold” (Genesis 3:6). Strongly disturbed by affections and emotions of an unknown magnitude until then, Eve contemplates the creatures in a ‘consumerist’ manner, which no longer takes into account their divine reasons and God’s command. It all depends on how the ability of the human intellect to know is used.

For the passionate, who forgets the deep reasons of the things and beings created by God, the intellect becomes the slave of his passions. The thief, the greedy or the debaucher subordinates their mind to the act of a dark knowledge, which seeks only to satisfy their lusts. For the first time, such a way of knowing, both suicidal and murderous, was practiced by Eve and Adam in paradise.

The virtuous man, obediently subjects his mind—through Faith—to that imperishable Wisdom of the Divine Intellect which is always his main guide in life—including in the act of the natural knowledge of creation. This type of knowledge, which can be named theological contemplation, would have led Adam and Eve to spiritual perfection and, finally, to the beatific vision. As Saints Gregory of Nysse and Gregory of Nazianzus show us, the human knowledge, when remains focused on the Divine Wisdom, can lead to the eternal life proper to those happy beings—angels and saints—whose homeland is Paradise. But the same human knowledge, when is exclusively and obsessively oriented towards those earthly things which give especially bodily pleasures, will inevitably lead to the spiritual death.

The famous legend of the Phrygian king Midas can help us to get a better understanding of this interpretation. As many ancient Greek histories tell us, this king was possessed by greed. Having his mind completely blinded by this vice, he dared to ask his gods the ‘gift’ of transforming everything he touched into gold. He was punished in a terrible way. Because literally everything that king Midas touched—including food and water—was turned into gold. Of course, he finally died hungry and thirsty.

If we transpose this Greek story in the context of the theological reflections on the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, we can say that in Paradise any act of knowledge of Adam and Eve which was not oriented towards the Divine Wisdom was similar to the touch of King Midas: through their transgression everything—including their thoughts and their bodies—was transformed, at God’s command, in an opaque, perishable matter, which lacks any transparency to the immortal light of Divine grace. This is how humans become mortals and Paradise was lost.