Physical Address
304 North Cardinal St.
Dorchester Center, MA 02124
A message to Believers….
The Genesis narrative often raises the profound question: how could Adam and Eve know that God was good and the serpent was evil if they had not yet eaten from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil? This question assumes that moral discernment is only possible through cognitive awareness of morality, but the biblical account suggests a deeper truth—that discernment is possible not through knowledge alone, but through fruit, presence, and alignment with the Creator.
Adam and Eve were not created as naïve children. They were fully formed, intelligent beings made in the image of God. They possessed intellect, awareness, and were tasked with the stewardship of creation. They named the animals, tended the garden, and walked with God Himself. Their innocence was not a lack of capacity, but a lack of corruption. They had no concept of moral duality—no exposure to evil, lies, or disobedience. However, that does not mean they were incapable of recognizing what did or did not align with the life they had been given.
The paradox lies in this: Adam and Eve had no personal knowledge of evil, yet they were presented with a choice. They had lived under the provision, presence, and instruction of God. They had experienced creation, breath, and communion with the One who formed them. In contrast, the serpent was a created being who offered no fruit, no life, and no authority—only suggestion and doubt. The serpent’s question, “Did God really say…?” was not inherently immoral on the surface, but it introduced the first moment of misalignment. It challenged not only God’s word, but the very structure of trust that their relationship was built on.
Despite not knowing what a “lie” was, Adam and Eve could have recognized the difference between the voice that creates and the voice that corrupts. This is because moral discernment does not begin with knowledge of categories like good and evil. It begins with the recognition of fruit—of what brings life versus what introduces confusion and fracture. Jesus affirms this later in Matthew 7:16 when He says, “By their fruits you shall know them.” This principle transcends the need for formal moral knowledge and points to a deeper, innate compass—a built-in alignment with truth that God placed within human beings.
To make this more tangible, consider the example of a child born to two parents who happen to be serial killers. That child, having never known any other experience, may feel loved, protected, and safe. To that child, those parents are the embodiment of care. There is no frame of reference to know their actions are evil—because the evil has not yet touched the child’s conscious understanding. Yet, even in such a disturbing scenario, the reality of who those parents are does not change based on how they treat their own child. The fruit they bear in the world—murder, manipulation, destruction—is not erased by the affection they show at home. The love is real, but the fruit is rotten. Their nature is not defined by the child’s experience of them but by the whole picture of what their lives produce.
This same principle applies across history. Racists love their children. Corrupt dictators weep for their wives. Criminals protect their families. Love, as an emotion or action, does not automatically indicate righteousness. The ability to protect, provide, or feel affection does not cleanse someone of evil. This is why fruit—not feeling—is the measure of discernment. A tree may look beautiful and bear shade, but if it produces poison, it is still deadly. The test is not how someone makes you feel, but what their presence brings into the world—does it bring life or death, truth or deception, healing or harm?
Before the fall, Adam and Eve’s internal compass was uncorrupted. Romans 2:15 speaks of the law being written on the heart, suggesting that conscience is not a product of sin, but a divine feature. Adam and Eve didn’t need labels for “good” or “evil” to know who had given them everything and who merely whispered questions. The choice to eat the fruit was not based on discernment of right and wrong, but a decision to pursue autonomy—the desire to be “like God,” knowing good and evil, even though they were already made in His image. It was the desire to define rather than to trust.
This brings us to a critical distinction: love and affection are not proof of righteousness. History is filled with examples of people who committed terrible acts yet loved their families. Racists can protect their children. Tyrants can mourn their own losses. Evil can still produce love, but that love is tainted—it is tribal, self-preserving, and disconnected from holiness. True discernment, therefore, cannot be based on feelings alone. It must be judged by fruit. Does this person’s life bring healing, justice, humility, and truth? Or does it foster division, self-worship, and deception?
So where is the defining line? It is not in what appears loving or wise. It is in what aligns with the character and nature of the Creator. Discernment is not about labeling behavior—it is about recognizing whether the voice or action produces life or steals from it. Adam and Eve did not need to eat the fruit to understand evil. They only needed to remain aligned with the One who is life, and who bore the fruit of life from the very beginning.
In conclusion, Adam and Eve’s failure was not in their lack of knowledge but in their departure from trust. They did not need to understand evil to resist it. They only needed to continue observing the fruit of the One who gave them breath. The paradox of innocence is that it does not require ignorance—it requires alignment. The moral compass was already within them. The moment they chose curiosity over covenant, they lost their innocence and gained the burden of fractured discernment. And from that day forward, humanity has been trying to rebuild what was once innate: the ability to discern good—not by knowledge, but by presence, by truth, and by fruit.
