Genesis 2:9

And out of the ground made the LORD God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for And out of the ground made the LORD God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food; the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil.

Every tree ... the tree of life. The trees named were undoubtedly both of them of a sacred character; and whether they belonged to any of the common species of vegetable productions, or were of an extraordinary character, that grew only in that garden and are now altogether unknown, it is certain that the object and tendency of both of them was in different ways to preserve and invigorate the growth and influence of religion in the soul of man. It is probable that the names by which these two trees are here designated are not those by which they were called at first, but were the historical names given to them afterward [Hebrew, wª`eets (H6086) hachayiym (H2416), tree of the lives].

According to some, this phrase describes some tree of the evergreen species, which was so called from its perennial verdure and unremitting productiveness. But the most approved opinion seems to be, that the name was applied to it from its instrumentality as a preserver of health and life. Kennicott endeavours to prove that the passage should be rendered a tree of life within the garden. But such an interpretation is inadmissible, not only because it makes no distinction between this tree and the other trees in the garden-which, as being "good for food," were all in a certain sense "trees of life" - but because it appears clear from other passages of Scripture that it stood alone, not only within the precincts, but "in the midst of the garden" - was the central object of that sacred enclosure.

Therefore, it was an isolated tree, invested with miraculous virtue. It might have, in the first instance, possessed the wondrous property of petuating life; and when our first parent had, from the vicissitudes of weather or from sudden accident, incurred bodily suffering or pain, he had only to taste of the fruit of this medicinal tree to be instantly restored again, and preserved in the enjoyment of perennial health. This idea receives some support from the language which God is represented as using when about to expel the delinquent pair from Eden (Genesis 3:22, last clause). But, admitting that there may be some truth in this view of "the tree of life," it is obvious that, material production, however wondrous its qualities, could preserve the spiritual life of the soul, this tree must have been designed for a further, a sacramental or symbolical purpose-a sign and seal of the "life" emphatically so called-the heavenly immortality to which man was destined when the term of probation should be happily completed. In a natural sense, that of supporting the life of the body, all the trees in the garden of Eden which were "good for food" were trees of life; but the life of the soul requires support and nourishment also, and can only be maintained by communion with Him who is the fountain of life and immortality. "The tree of life," therefore, since it could not, being a material substance, possess the property of imparting a spiritual influence to the soul, was only the seal or pledge of immortality-the divinely-constituted emblem of Him who is the "life of the world" - the outward and visible sign of that inward and spiritual grace which was to be conveyed into the soul of the worthy partaker of its fruits through the almighty power of Him whom it represented.

In short, it was a sacramental tree, by eating of which man, in his state of innocence, kept himself in covenant with God. Just as the elements in the ordinance of the Supper, when received in faith, tend to invigorate all the graces of the Christian life-to bring us into a closer relationship with God, and thereby enliven our hope of a blessed immortality-so the eating of that "tree of life," so long as our first parent partook of its fruit in the character of humble, believing dependence upon God, was calculated to keep alive the influence of religion in his soul, and to assure him of immortality. It served to hold out this hope in a sensible manner before him; and from its prominent station in the midst of the garden, where it must have been an object of daily interest and constant observation, it was admirably designed, in the state of Adam's mature but undisciplined faculties, to preserve him habitually in mind of God and of futurity.

The tree of knowledge of good and evil. So called because it was a test of obedience by which our first parents were to be tried whether they would be good or bad, obey God or break his command. If the tree of life in the midst of the garden was designed to be a sacramental sign or emblem of immortality, "the tree of the knowledge of good and evil," which Adam was forbidden to eat, possessed also a sacramental character. It might be, as some imagine, that this tree was of a poisonous nature, stimulating the blood, intoxicating the brain, like many of the vegetable productions that are indigenous to hot climates; and if so, it was an act of the greatest kindness to lay the keeper of this garden under strict positive injunctions to abstain from the fruit of a tree which was sure to occasion bodily disorder, suffering, and death. But the revealed end of this tree, which was distinguished by so special a name, was to serve as a test of man's obedience, and therefore it was of no consequence what was its natural character, or the specific properties it was possessed of. It might be a vegetable production whose fruit contained so strong and malignant a poison as was sufficient, even when ate in the smallest quantity, to corrupt all the springs of life; or it might have been altogether harmless-one which, if met with elsewhere or in other circumstances, might have been partaken of with perfect freedom, and with certain, complete impunity; but situated in that garden it was a tree whose fruit was forbidden under a severe penalty. Its natural character might have been a matter of indifference; and the more indifferent it was, the better fitted to answer the purpose for which it was appointed.