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Andrew Randall

The Tree of Knowledge

Updated: Sep 18, 2022


“…we make rhetoric out of our argument with others,

poetry out of our argument with ourselves.”

W.B.Yeats


Part 1:

And on the sixth day, chaos was formed;

Conceived among the dust and ashes,

and labored with the breath of life.

In the sky around, a mood of rebellion hung in the air –

Then on the eighth day anarchy became the natural order.”


As I stood and watched this event the irony of it all was not immediately apparent. The action was stimulated by freedom, but the atmosphere was shrouded in dependence. Light filtered unevenly through the leaves, giving the garden a patchwork glow. And yet, there was an irresistible beauty and quality that held me, and everyone else, transfixed. In what appeared to be the centre of this manicured garden there was a recently planted tree. Its fruit didn't as yet possess any beauty or appeal. Around the outside of the garden was a wall, and at the entrance stood a few official looking individuals. A few of my fellow onlookers asked one of them what was going on. They looked at us kindly, and replied, “Have faith, the Supreme One loves you, and is in control.”


Then on the ninth day, and totally out of the blue, all witnesses were told to leave that garden. Something had happened, and we were required to go. We were directed away from the tree, through a gate, and onto a roadway without understanding why we were going, but firmly blocked from being able to go back.


There were some among our crowd who said this move would be an interesting learning experience. The officials, who came with us, agreed that this was so. But to most others the purpose of all this disruption was not so clear. I for instance didn’t want all this to be. I didn’t want to leave that garden and that tree. But all around me was passivity and resignation, and I didn’t want to be the odd one out.


Part 2:

Some distance down the road, as wandering felt like it was becoming the natural order, the memories and immediacy of that first scene started to fade. I noticed the other travelers were forming into groups. I could hear them discussing many things. Some were commenting on the details of that first scene. And I, for no apparent reason other than their proximity to me, attached to a particular group.


The road was wide and straight and looked most travelled. The signs all pointed to a destination called Babel. There didn’t seem to be anywhere else to go apart from a few side tracks that looked less travelled. When we first arrived at Babel I looked around I could now only see noise and crowds. The groups then mostly dispersed, and I was left roaming something akin to a market place. It was all at the base of a partly built tower. I began to move around the footings, till I came to a place where an official from that original garden was standing and speaking to the crowd. They were offering some commentary on a dramatic presentation that was being played out on a theatre stage.


There were just two characters engaged in dialogue. One was a young woman and the other was a creature or a person I'd not seen before. He, she, or it sounded very articulate and moved about something that had been made to look like that tree in the garden. I couldn't quite catch everything that was being said so I moved through the crowd who like me had stopped to watch and got in a bit closer.


No, no, we're free, we weren't made to be limited.” saidthe young woman.

So you're free and you can do whatever you want to.” answered the other being.

Yes that's right.”

That's interesting, does that mean you able to eat anything you want, say like the fruit of this tree?”

Oh no, that's right, we are forbiden to eat that.”

Why is that?

Oh you've got me thinking. Hang on, that's right. This is the 'Tree of the Knowledge of Good Evil'.”

Did the Supreme One tell you that if you ate it you would die!”

Yes that's right.”

Well, does that mean you are trully free?”

Oh, He said we were. But if eating its fruit means we will die He's just protecting us.”

You will not surely die!” said this being as he changed into a beautiful serpent and climbed up the tree. Then he passed some of the fruit into the ladies’ hands.

Don’t you realise,” the serpent suggested to the woman, “that you exist in a state of tension, because if you acquire the knowledge of both good and evil, it is irreversible, with no chance to go back.”

But I don’t understand all this,” the woman replied, “If I choose to experience the choices that come from my freedom, and things will change, and that means I can never be the same again. Well, where is the sense and fairness in that?”

Yes” hissed the serpent, “and even now as you consider such a thought, your umbilical cord of innocence is being torn, and you’re stainedwith the taint of corruptibility .”

Well, I give up,” she said as she ate, “someone is lying, and I can’t decide.”


As all this was playing out in front of the crowd I began to feel slightly agitated. I felt something really important was going on here. I too was very confused about the inevitability of the situation. I didn’t want to be here with all this noise, I didn’t want to leave that first garden, I felt all of this was being imposed on me, without reference to my feelings. But as far as I could see I was the only person like me.


“Isn’t this really the first lie?” I called from among the crowd, “or just proof that innocence equals ignorance, and that knowledge and maturity mean a loss.” But no one heard me, or if anyone did they didn't show a scrap of interest in anything I had to say.

At this point the official began to speak, they said “And so now it has come down to this, you stand at the crossroads between carnality and eternity, with your soul like a tightrope, stretched across the abyss. You experience one side, and merely dream of the other. Your mind continually reaches out for something greater, and like Pavlol’s dog, your metaphysical salivations evoke memories of a time and place, where a Faustian pact was imposed and innocence was given up for knowledge.”


Part 3:

When the official had finished his speech, he started delivering a monologue for the disappearing crowd.

“Because in much wisdom there is much grief, and increased knowledge means increased pain.”


I glazed over as these words were wasted on me. The drama seemed finished, but I wondered about the journey, and why Eden was so different to Babel, and why with no reference to my wishes I was stuck where I was. I began to recall long forgotten images of my past, of times and seasons I had not thought of for years, and of a happiness that preceded my trance-like witnessing of that first scene of Eden. The words of the serpent were causing me to wonder about everything I had held to be important.


“The heart of fools is in the house of pleasure,” continued the official, but the words were lost on me, for I had become absorbed with my own thoughts. It was becoming more than just a confused array of questions, I was allowing it to become an obstruction, a barrier to any understanding. I wanted to listen to the angel, but the words were falling around me. As I was preoccupied with my growing anxiety, I didn’t notice, until it was far too late, the rumbling tremors under my feet.


Then before my eyes, that mighty tower began to crack and shatter, as the earth shook and groaned. People were running in all directions. I’m not sure where I was standing when the first major quake came. But like a fault line seen by experts, the prospect of a catastrophe, and my place in it, had existed for quite some time. As I ran in confusion trying to escape the collapsing debris, I found myself at the entrance to a cave. Without stopping to think I, like everyone, rushed into it for safety. I realized that before me were dozens of tunnels, and just as many doors, leading off in all directions. I held my breath, strained my eyes, and tentatively reached about for a handle.


Part 4:

The exit away from Babel that I thought I chose had no particular significance attached to it, apart from a mild familiarity its shape gave me. But as I emerged out of the darkness, I couldn’t help noticing that the other paths were not all that far from this one. And while I was the only person I could see, I had the feeling that there were others like me, not very far away. I’m sure I couldn’t have been the only one who wanted to get away from the chaos, insecurity, and danger

that was Babel.


To my relief, another garden that I eventually came across was similar to my memory of the beginnings. It had clearly once been a place of beauty and comfort, the weeds of neglect had not yet completely destroyed the order, and while it was apparent that this place had been tended occasionally, what was not clear any more, was the plan or motivation, behind the gardener’s labour. When I finally made my way through the overgrowth, I found what must have been the focal point of the plot. To my surprise and shock, there in the midst of the foliage, was a huge tree that I recognized instantly. It was the same one that had been at the beginning. I stopped and sat under the tree and rested for a time. All that I had experienced had really taken its toll. I came to realise I was alone and exhausted. I slept and slept and slept.


When I awoke and looked around me I realized why the garden, in spite of so much effort, appeared to be in such a state of neglect. This tree in the centre was drawing the life out of the other plants; everything that was done to nurture and develope ultimately served only to benefit this tree. Below the surface its roots must have spread like a web and touched the base of every other plant. As they wilted or stagnated, this once majestic tree drained their life, and seemed to use that to feed its needs. As I moved around its base, I could see that its apparent strength was something of a paradox. Any thoughts of modifying its influence would, by necessity, require careful planning.


Part 5:

Was I simply overreacting, was I really the right person to pass judgment on this place anyway? So I sat; and for the first time for a long time, I thought about those officials and particularly the one who was back in the beautiful garden. I wondered where they all went after the collapse at Babel. Did they escape? I sure hoped they did because they spoke with such clarity and authority. I concluded that when I got some energy back I would look for one of them and ask if they could come and talk to me about what I should do.

As I thought this a familiar official stepped from behind this tree.

I have been waiting for you,” they said. “Don’t you know I have been given to you by the Supreme One, and I am yours. I will try to answer all your questions.....

Unless you become as a child,” they said as they came and sat by me, “you will not see Eden again….

But I want to know what to do about the tree!” I immediately interjected in tired frustration, thinking that they musn’t have understood the nature of my prayer. “I don't need aphorisms. I need directions and actions!”

I warn you,” they continued, after a pause intended to take note of my rudeness, ”sometimes the answers, might not be the ones you want, and the consequences might not be either. See the little children the future belongs to souls who become like them…..”

But it was no good. I foolishly persisted because I was preoccupied with my questions, my disarray, my mistakes, my lack of control, and I definitely didn’t want a sermon.


Then the officila/angel turned, looked up at the tree, and said, “Do not harm the tree, or blame it for the state of the garden. For while you know the tree is the cause of what you see, the tree is also the most important thing here. If you don’t already realise – this garden is the sum of your life, and the tree is you. You have caused all this decay. The knowledge of good an evil resides in you, and is the cause of all your journeying. You are the reason the fruit changed hands. The price of your so-called freedom, is the existence of chaos, and the consequence of your wisdom, is the world of doubt.”


At first, I didn’t know if the tears that flowed were from the starkness of my failure to understand anything, or from the potential liberation implicit in these words. “But I had no choice in this outcome,” I feebly responded in quivering tones. “I agree with the lady I saw at Babel. I don’t accept this, I didn’t choose this, so why am I here?”


Part 6:

The angel stood in silence, waited for me to stop my attempts at arguing, and then very quietly, and very calmly, said to me.....

You are so mature and clever, and yet you spend so much time and energy on wasted issues. Did you choose to be alive? Did you choose to possess awareness of who you are? Were you not privileged to have had the chance to know Eden at all? You ask about having no choice, and not being to blame, and yet you have spent most of your adult life worried about your status, your choices, and their consequences. The tree you see before you, like you, started as a simple creation, but as it grew it became focused on its own needs. And while they were important, they didn’t warrant the total dominance they came to have. It failed to notice the evil that was slowly infesting its roots and branches. The evil that caused it to shun innocence, and pursue carnality, which somehow you equate with knowledge and maturity. You have replaced balance with manipulation and control. And having seen what you could have been in the beauty of Eden, and what you actually are in the chaos of Babel, you are now in a position to truly appreciate this tree you have been nurturing. And you discover that you don’t like what you see.”

As I lay in pieces on the ground, staring blankly towards the sky, they continued, “But there is no cause for despair. You have the gift of life. You have the gift of awareness. You particularly have the gift of honesty. And you have strength enough for your needs. The garden is still yours, and the secretof the tree is simplicity itself. The tree will continue to grow, if it looks up to the sun and away from itself. The garden will continue to grow, if it too is nurtured. Two can be one, if the needs of the tree are in harmony with the needs of the garden. It doesn’t happen instantly, and it’s not a race.”


As these words settled over me, shafts of sunlight filtered through the leaves, just like the scene of the beginnings. “But how do I know when this is all properly in balance?” I gamely ventured from my exhausted state. They smiled, put their arm around me, gave me the biggest hug and said, “Now that is a question I have been waiting for almost all of your life, and the beautiful thing is now, I know that you really mean it!” Their smile became like the sun, and it warmed me in a way I had never known before.

There is another tree,” they went on, “a dead, rough-sawn, and splintered piece of wood standing on its own. It once produced a very strange kind of fruit. But a miracle happened, and one day it was transformed from being a thing of horror and cruelty, to being the most important tree that has ever been. I guarantee, where ever you are you can always see it, if you want to. And the more you look at itthe more you will be given the understanding of how to manage this garden. It might not always be easy, but the same miracle that changed its meaning can happen to you, and will be there to guide you always. The Supreme One, I keep mentioning, is the fruit of that tree, and he exists purely for your sustenance and growth. He has told me to give you as much of His produce as you are willing to receive. And He will give you anything, and everything, that He knows is good for you. It is yours forever, and it is free.”


Part 7:


I began to feel different immediately, something like another beginning, or a new Eden. I couldn’t believe my luck. I was no longer concerned that I was undeserving or helpless. I felt so close to a new kind of love that I could hardly remain seated. I wanted to skip and jump like a lamb. And you know, to my great delight, what the angel said turned out to be exactly right.
























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