The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil Is Still Before You Today

(1 Samuel 24:1–7)                                                                       Pastor. Songsoo Park

After Saul returned from pursuing the Philistines, he was told, "David is in the Desert of En Gedi."

So Saul took three thousand chosen men from all Israel and set out to look for David and his men near the Crags of the Wild Goats.

He came to the sheep pens along the way; a cave was there, and Saul went in to relieve himself. David and his men were far back in the cave.

The men said, "This is the day the LORD spoke of when he said to you, 'I will give your enemy into your hands for you to deal with as you wish.' " Then David crept up unnoticed and cut off a corner of Saul's robe.

Afterward, David was conscience-stricken for having cut off a corner of his robe.

He said to his men, "The LORD forbid that I should do such a thing to my master, the LORD's anointed, or lift my hand against him; for he is the anointed of the LORD."

With these words David rebuked his men and did not allow them to attack Saul. And Saul left the cave and went his way.

When we think about the Garden of Eden, we often misunderstand one thing: many assume that the entire world God created was the Garden of Eden. It wasn’t. Eden was not the whole created world but a particular region that God designated. That is why Genesis 2:8 says that after creating the world, God “planted a garden in the east, in Eden.”

And in that specially created garden, God established specific rules—distinguishing what humans must do and what they must not do.

Genesis 2:15 says, “The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.”

Yes, humans were to cultivate and protect the garden. Even the name Eden confirms this. The word Eden comes from ancient Akkadian and originally meant “a fenced vineyard.”

A fence exists to guard and protect a piece of land from outside threats. That means Eden was never a place of idle leisure—a utopia where humans simply rested. Eden was a place with responsibilities—things that humans were required to guard and care for.

That is why God brought the animals to Adam to name them rather than naming them Himself.

Genesis 2:16–17 says,
“You are free to eat from any tree in the garden, but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil; for when you eat of it, you will surely die.”

One of God’s gifts in creation was the gift of free will—the ability to choose or to refuse, to decide and to control. With this freedom, we can choose good… or choose evil. Free will is therefore like a double-edged sword.

God reveals the danger of this double-edged freedom through the second rule in Eden: “You are free to eat… but you must not eat… for when you do, you will surely die.”

Humans may freely choose—but every choice carries consequences. Therefore choice and responsibility always walk together in human life.

If humans choose freely but refuse responsibility—what happens? Scripture tells us: “You will surely die.” The Hebrew word muth (מוּת) here does not mean “to die instantly,” but “to be destroyed.”

When a person makes a choice contrary to God’s word, something must be destroyed as a consequence—and eventually that destruction leads to death.

After Genesis 3, what is destroyed because of humanity’s wrong choice? Our relationship with God, our relationship with each other, nature, society, the environment—all become broken. And in that brokenness, humans suffer and eventually die. This is the result of choice without responsibility.

AI has become a major issue today. While it brings convenience, it also carries danger—especially the danger that AI may choose and act without human control.

A vivid example occurred during the 2016 outbreak of violence in Myanmar. After an extremist group attacked a military post, the violence was wrongly directed toward an unrelated minority group, the Rohingya. Over 25,000 Rohingya civilians were killed, and 730,000 were violently displaced. When Amnesty International conducted an investigation, they found something shocking:

Facebook’s AI-driven algorithm had played a decisive role in fueling hatred and violence against the Rohingya.

Because AI had learned—without human instruction—that people tend to click on content related to anger, Facebook’s algorithm automatically pushed hateful, violent content into users’ feeds. Not because someone commanded it—but because the algorithm itself concluded that this was what people “wanted.”

Here lies the danger: AI can choose and act, but it cannot take responsibility for its choices. Just like humans who eat the forbidden fruit—gaining knowledge and ability—but lacking the power or will to take responsibility for the consequences.

Even if humans replicate life, build AI, understand the universe, or even claim to stand in the place of God—there is one reason we can never be God: We cannot bear full responsibility for the outcomes of our choices.

Because He not only created the world out of nothing, but He also takes full responsibility for everything He created.

Hebrews 1:2–3 says that through the Son, God made the universe… and by His powerful word He sustains all things.

God not only created but also restores a world broken by sin—through the sacrificial offering of His own Son.

Responsibility is the very character of the Creator—and God desired this character to remain in the humans made in His image. This is why, in Genesis 2:16–17, before humans made any choices, God taught them the principle of responsibility.

The incident of the forbidden fruit teaches precisely this.

“In the middle of the garden were the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” So the tree of life was right beside the forbidden tree. Genesis 3:22 tells us that whoever eats from the tree of life lives forever.

So which fruit should humans have chosen? The fruit that gives life, of course. Then why did humans choose the forbidden fruit instead? We can gain insight from David’s experience in 1 Samuel 24.

David had the perfect opportunity to end ten years of fleeing from Saul. Saul entered a cave alone, not knowing David and his men were hiding deep inside. David’s men urged him, “This is the day the Lord spoke of! Kill him!”

Just like the serpent tempted Eve: “You will be like God, knowing good and evil.”

If David had killed Saul, what would have happened?
He would forever bear the mark of a man who gained the throne by killing the anointed king. His kingship would lack legitimacy—opening the door for future violence, coups, and bloodshed.

Satan wanted exactly this: to redefine kingship not as “the one anointed by God,” but as “the one who seizes power through violence.”

David momentarily lifted his sword—but then something pricked his heart. That moment of inner conviction saved him. He responded to the faint whisper of grace—and chose righteousness.

Eve, too, initially remembered God’s word. But she did not hold onto it—and made the wrong choice.

God desires us to use that freedom to choose what is good, righteous, life-giving, and God-glorifying. Satan seeks to twist that freedom so we choose according to our sinful desires.

So when God’s Word comes to mind, when your heart feels even the slightest conviction—stop, reconsider, and choose what is right.

You may look as if you are losing something in the moment—but in truth, such choices open the door to God’s grace.