Series

Before Fullness

Part 2

Part 2

Before Fullness:
“Knowing Good and Evil” Is a Biblical Idiom, Not a Psychology Lesson

Author: Austin Mcclelland

Why Deuteronomy 1:39 Must Be Handled With Care

In Post 1, we made a simple but consequential observation: the “moral awakening” reading of Eden—they ate, and then they gained a conscience—does not fit the internal logic of Genesis 2–3 (Gen 2:16–17; 3:2–3; 3:7–10). A command presupposes accountable agency; the humans can articulate the prohibition; and the first “fruit” of the new knowledge is shame and hiding, not serene moral enlightenment (Gen 2:16–17; 3:2–3; 3:7–10).

In this post, we take the next step in a careful interpretive process: we ask how the Bible itself uses the phrase “know good and evil” (or “know good and bad”)—and we let that usage function as a control on our reading of Eden (Deut 1:39; Gen 2:9). If Scripture uses the phrase in a particular way elsewhere, we should hesitate to make it mean something entirely different in Genesis unless the context requires it.

This is where Deuteronomy 1:39 becomes enormously important (Deut 1:39). But it is also where a very common pastoral move must be examined with gentleness and precision—because many churches reach for Deuteronomy 1:39 to explain Eden, and they do so for understandable reasons.

Our aim here is not to scold the pulpit. It is to honor what pastors are often trying to protect—and to show how to protect it without collapsing the text.

Why “control texts” matter: Scripture teaches us its own idioms

There are phrases in Scripture that are not technical definitions but established ways of speaking—idioms that carry a range of meaning within Israel’s moral and covenant world. When we treat those phrases as though they were modern psychological categories, we often distort them.

“Knowing good and evil” is one of those phrases.

Modern readers naturally hear it as a description of interior moral consciousness: conscience turned on; moral cognition awakened (Gen 2:9). That reading is understandable—especially because the phrase sounds ethical in English. But Scripture’s language of “knowing” is often thicker than information. In Genesis itself, “know” can mean relational and experiential knowledge, not mere data possession (Gen 4:1). And across Scripture, the ability to “distinguish good and evil” often clusters around discernment, maturity, and judgment rather than the mere existence of moral awareness (Deut 1:39; 1 Kgs 3:9; Heb 5:14).

So we begin with a disciplined question:

How does the Bible itself use the language of “knowing good and evil,” and what kind of capacity does it signal when it appears?

Deuteronomy 1:39 is the best place to start, because the context makes the function of the phrase unusually clear (Deut 1:39).

What Deuteronomy 1:39 is doing: covenant liability, not moral blankness

1) The setting: a national rebellion and a judicial distinction

Deuteronomy opens with Moses recounting Israel’s story on the edge of the promised land (Deut 1:1–5). In Deuteronomy 1, Moses retells the episode at Kadesh-barnea when Israel refused to enter the land after the spies’ report (Deut 1:19–28). That refusal is not described as mere hesitation; it is described as covenant rebellion: “you rebelled against the command of the LORD your God” (Deut 1:26). The people interpret hardship as divine malice—“Because the LORD hated us…” (Deut 1:27)—despite God’s repeated demonstrations of care and guidance (Deut 1:29–33).

Then comes judgment: the accountable generation that refused will not enter (Deut 1:34–35). But Moses immediately adds a distinction that reveals the moral precision of divine justice:

“…your little ones… and your children, who today have no knowledge of good or evil, they shall go in there” (Deut 1:39).

The phrase “have no knowledge of good or evil” is embedded in a judicial context: who can bear the covenantal weight of that decisive national refusal? (Deut 1:26–40). The answer is: not the “little ones” (Deut 1:39).

2) What the phrase means in Deuteronomy’s situation

Deuteronomy 1:39 is not claiming children are non-moral creatures or metaphysically incapable of moral response (Deut 1:39). It is distinguishing competence and liability: they are not competent to be charged as the responsible covenant actors in that historical decision (Deut 1:39). That is why they are exempted from that particular judgment and will enter the land (Deut 1:39).

This matters because the phrase is doing covenant-legal work. It marks a threshold of responsibility and accountability in a national judgment moment (Deut 1:39).

And that already gives us a warning light: if a sermon uses Deuteronomy 1:39 to mean “pre-moral innocence” or “no moral awareness,” it is likely oversimplifying what the text is actually doing (Deut 1:39).

3) Why churches reach for this—and why the instinct is understandable

Many churches are trying to do something pastoral with Deuteronomy 1:39. They see “not knowing good and evil” and assume it gives them a simple category for Genesis: Adam and Eve were like children; then they “grew up” by eating(Deut 1:39; Gen 3:6–7).

The instinct behind that move is often honorable. It tries to affirm three things:

  1. Human development is real: capacity grows over time (Deut 1:39).
  2. God judges with discernment, not mechanical cruelty (Deut 1:39).
  3. The tree has to mean something meaningful about “knowledge” (Gen 2:9).

Those instincts are worth preserving. The problem is not the pastoral desire. The problem is what happens when we import Deuteronomy 1:39 into Genesis without noticing that the two texts are doing different kinds of work in different covenant situations (Deut 1:39; Gen 2:16–17).

A common pulpit move: “Eden is childhood, the Fall is growing up”

Let’s name the move plainly, because clarity is kindness.

Many popular explanations run like this:

  • In Deuteronomy, children “do not know good and evil” (Deut 1:39).
  • Therefore “knowing good and evil” is what happens when you grow up.
  • So in Genesis, Adam and Eve begin childlike and become morally adult when they eat (Gen 3:6–7).

This approach is often delivered warmly and sincerely. And it does preserve an important truth: Scripture recognizes development and maturity (Deut 1:39; Isa 7:15–16; Heb 5:14). But as an interpretation of Genesis 2–3, it usually collapses the story in several ways.

We need to keep what it gets right, and then correct where it goes wrong.

What the “Eden-as-growing-up” approach gets right

Before we critique it, it is only fair—and pastorally necessary—to say what it gets right.

1) It senses that Scripture recognizes development and capacity

Scripture is not embarrassed to speak of maturity as a real category. Deuteronomy can speak of children who “today have no knowledge of good or evil” (Deut 1:39). Isaiah can speak of a child reaching a stage of refusing evil and choosing good (Isa 7:15–16). Hebrews can describe maturity as having senses trained “to distinguish good from evil” (Heb 5:14).

So the pulpit instinct is correct to say: humans develop; discernment can grow; capacity can be trained (Deut 1:39; Heb 5:14).

2) It tries to preserve God’s goodness and human agency

Many who use this approach are trying to avoid portraying God as arbitrary or threatened by human moral growth. They want obedience to make sense without making God a caricature (Gen 2:16–17). They want the story to have moral meaning without turning humans into puppets (Gen 3:6).

That instinct is also good.

3) It recognizes “knowledge” is a meaningful category in the Fall narrative

The tree is named for “knowledge,” and the text says the humans’ eyes were opened and they “knew” something after eating (Gen 2:9; 3:7). Any serious reading must account for that (Gen 3:7).

So far, so good. But now we must ask: does this pastoral approach actually fit what Genesis is doing?

Where the approach quietly collapses the story

1) It misreads Deuteronomy 1:39 as “no moral awareness”

Deuteronomy 1:39 is about covenant liability in a corporate judgment moment, not about metaphysical moral blankness (Deut 1:39; 1:26–40). It identifies a class of persons not competent to bear the covenantal weight of that decisive national refusal (Deut 1:39).

So when Deuteronomy 1:39 is converted into “pre-moral innocence,” a category shift occurs. The text’s function (judicial discernment about liability) gets replaced with a modern psychology category (moral awareness turned off/on) (Deut 1:39).

And once that shift is made, the phrase becomes too thin to bear the weight churches place on it.

2) Genesis does not portray Adam and Eve as “children” in the Deuteronomy sense

Even before the tree episode, Genesis assigns Adam a vocation with real responsibility: he is placed in the garden “to work it and keep it” (Gen 2:15). He receives a direct command with an explicit consequence (Gen 2:16–17). The woman can articulate the prohibition in conversation (Gen 3:2–3).

Whatever “knowledge of good and evil” means, Genesis clearly portrays them as possessing:

  • a command addressed to them (Gen 2:16–17)
  • the ability to understand obligation (Gen 3:2–3)
  • the ability to obey or transgress (Gen 3:6)
  • answerability under divine questioning (Gen 3:9–13)

That is not the Deuteronomy 1:39 scenario, where “little ones” are exempted from covenant-defining liability because they are not competent to bear it (Deut 1:39).

Genesis presents a pair commissioned into sacred space with a mandate and a boundary (Gen 2:15–17), not minors shielded from the legal weight of a corporate rebellion they could not comprehend (Deut 1:39).

And if we insist they were truly in the Deuteronomy 1:39 category, Genesis becomes internally awkward: why is the narrative structured as command → transgression → judgment if the actors were not competent to bear obligation? (Gen 2:16–17; 3:6; 3:14–19).

3) It turns the Fall into “puberty”

If eating from the tree is basically Adam and Eve becoming “adults,” then sin becomes a kind of inevitable maturation step (Gen 3:6–7). The Fall becomes “growing up.” But Genesis does not frame the act as developmental necessity. It frames it as a breach of trust and vocation under a command (Gen 2:16–17; 3:1–6).

This is not a small difference. If sin is a maturation mechanism, then rebellion becomes a rite of passage. But Genesis portrays it as rupture: shame, fear, hiding, blame, and exile (Gen 3:7–24).

4) It makes the tree the “necessary free will button”

A common related sermon claim is that the tree is needed to make humans free. But Genesis does not present freedom as a philosophical puzzle it must engineer. Genesis presupposes agency simply by issuing a real command to real agents (Gen 2:16–17).

The tree is not introduced as a metaphysical device to create choice. It is presented as a boundary within a world of gift and vocation (Gen 2:15–17). When sermons treat the tree as the mechanism that makes freedom possible, they often end up answering a question Genesis is not asking (Gen 2:16–17).

5) It ignores the “like God” dimension

The serpent does not advertise the fruit as “you’ll grow up.” He frames it as divine likeness: “you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Gen 3:5). And after the transgression, God echoes that framing: “the man has become like one of us in knowing good and evil” (Gen 3:22).

Those statements should slow down any “they were toddlers” reading. Genesis ties the knowledge to a Godlike register of knowing (Gen 3:5; 3:22). That is not the language of ordinary childhood development. It is the language of prerogative and status.

6) It makes moral responsibility an emergent property of choosing wrongly

Here we reach the deepest conceptual problem.

Some versions of the “growing up” reading imply that Adam and Eve become responsible because they transgress: they eat, and then they “know,” and now they are accountable.

But moral responsibility cannot be the product of the very act being judged. That would mean the first sin is simultaneously:

  • not culpable (because accountability isn’t there yet), and
  • the generator of culpability (because eating creates moral knowledge), and therefore
  • the basis for judgment.

That is circular. It turns judgment into a category mistake.

Scripture’s moral logic runs the other direction:

  • A prohibition defines a real boundary (Gen 2:16–17).
  • A transgression crosses a known boundary (Gen 3:6).
  • Judgment responds to that breach (Gen 3:14–19).

Paul articulates the same moral structure in principle: transgression is tied to the presence of a command (Rom 4:15), and moral reckoning assumes a real standard has been given (Rom 5:13). Genesis gives the standard plainly (Gen 2:16–17). So the act does not create accountability; it activates judgment against accountability already assumed.

A better way to use Deuteronomy 1:39 pastorally—without collapsing Genesis

The reason churches reach for Deuteronomy 1:39 is often because they are trying to protect something true: capacity matters, and God judges with discernment (Deut 1:39). We can keep that truth without turning Adam and Eve into Deuteronomy’s “little ones.”

A tighter, more text-faithful framing goes like this:

  1. Deuteronomy 1:39: “Not knowing good and evil” marks a class of people not competent to bear that covenant liability in that national judgment moment (Deut 1:39).
  2. Genesis 2–3: “Knowledge of good and evil” names an illicit grasp at a Godlike register of discernment and judgment—an attempt to seize moral prerogative on their own terms—rather than a lack of basic moral agency (Gen 2:16–17; 3:5–6; 3:22).
  3. Therefore: Adam and Eve are not “pre-moral children.” They are commissioned vice-regents with a clear boundary; their transgression is not growing up, but redefining the terms of trust—taking what belongs to God’s prerogative rather than receiving wisdom in covenant fidelity (Gen 2:15–17; 3:5–6).

This preserves what people want to preserve: God’s justice is discerning (Deut 1:39), human development is real (Heb 5:14), and human rebellion is genuinely accountable (Gen 3:6). And it does so without inventing a “they were basically toddlers” anthropology that Genesis itself does not depict (Gen 2:15–17).

The broader biblical range of the idiom: maturity, discernment, adjudication

Now that we have handled the common misapplication, we can describe the positive pattern more clearly.

Across Scripture, “good/evil” language often clusters around discernment and judgment:

  • Children and thresholds of capacity: Deuteronomy can speak of children who “today have no knowledge of good or evil” in a covenant-liability setting (Deut 1:39). Isaiah can speak of a time before a child knows how to refuse evil and choose good (Isa 7:15–16).
  • Wisdom for governance: Solomon asks for wisdom “to discern between good and evil” explicitly in order “to govern” well (1 Kgs 3:9).
  • Angelic/divine comparisons: royal discernment can be likened to “the angel of God to discern good and evil” (2 Sam 14:17).
  • Diminishing capacity with age: Barzillai describes advanced age as a loss of discernment—he asks whether he can still “discern” well enough to participate in royal life (2 Sam 19:35).
  • Maturity as trained discernment: Hebrews describes mature believers as those whose senses are trained “to distinguish good from evil” (Heb 5:14).

This range matters because Genesis does not merely say, “they didn’t know good and evil.” It places a tree in the garden called “the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” (Gen 2:9), frames the temptation as becoming “like God” in that knowing (Gen 3:5), and then has God echo the result in the same register (Gen 3:22).

That combination—idiom + divine likeness framing—strongly suggests we are dealing not with basic moral awareness, but with a kind of mature evaluative prerogative: the reach for the status of the one who gets to decide (Gen 3:5–6; 3:22).

Returning to Eden: the tree as a boundary around moral sovereignty

We can now state the core claim in a way that is both text-sensitive and logically stable:

If we take Genesis 2–3 seriously on its own terms, “the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” cannot mean “the first acquisition of basic moral awareness,” as though the humans had no grasp of obligation prior to eating (Gen 2:16–17). A prohibition is meaningful only if the hearer can understand it as binding (Gen 2:16–17). Genesis portrays exactly that.

A more coherent reading is that the tree represents a boundary around a particular kind of “knowledge”: the capacity—and the claim—to determine, authorize, and administer “good and evil” as a matter of judgment. In short: not mere moral information, but something closer to moral sovereignty (Gen 3:5; 3:22).

And we can say this plainly, without losing academic responsibility:

They didn’t gain the ability to tell right from wrong; they gained the audacity to be the ones who decide—to act as if good and evil are theirs to define and administer.

That line sounds simple because it is. But it is not simplistic. It is rooted in how Scripture uses the idiom and in how Genesis frames the temptation (Deut 1:39; 1 Kgs 3:9; Gen 3:5).

Why Genesis calls it “knowledge”: knowing as experiential, participatory, relational

Genesis uses “know” in a thick way—not merely “possess a fact,” but “recognize,” “discern,” and “know intimately” (Gen 4:1). That matters because Genesis 3 does not portray the fruit as giving them abstract moral information. It portrays the fruit as initiating them into an altered mode of existence.

The first result is not a lecture in ethics. It is: “the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked” (Gen 3:7). Then: coverings (Gen 3:7). Then: hiding (Gen 3:8). Then: fear (Gen 3:10). Then: blame (Gen 3:12–13).

Genesis itself defines the “knowledge” by its immediate manifestation: self-exposure, self-protection, fear, concealment, and rupture (Gen 3:7–13). The knowledge is not merely intellectual. It is existential: the world experienced through alienation.

This is why the detail everyone skips—the “eyes opened” sequence—matters so much. A sermon that talks about “autonomy” but ignores that sequence will always feel thin, because Genesis immediately grounds the new “knowing” in shame (Gen 3:7).

So we can say, very plainly:

The first fruit of playing judge was not enlightenment. It was shame (Gen 3:7).

The “like God” dimension: the knowledge is located in the divine sphere

The serpent’s promise is not merely “you will learn ethics.” It is: “you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Gen 3:5). And after the transgression, God says: “the man has become like one of us in knowing good and evil” (Gen 3:22).

However one parses the “us,” the rhetorical function is stable: the text locates this “knowing” in the divine sphere (Gen 3:22). Elsewhere, Scripture can depict God among a heavenly assembly (Job 1:6; 1 Kgs 22:19). Genesis 3:22 does not require a fully developed doctrine of the heavenly court for the point to land: this is a Godlike register of knowing. It is not mere childhood growth (Gen 3:22).

This is precisely why the Deuteronomy “Adam and Eve were toddlers” move is so strained. Deuteronomy 1:39 marks a liability threshold for children (Deut 1:39). Genesis frames the temptation in terms of divine likeness in knowing (Gen 3:5; 3:22). Those are not the same narrative functions.

 

“Eating” as appropriation: not mere curiosity, but self-authorizing seizure

Genesis emphasizes the act: the woman sees, desires, takes, and eats (Gen 3:6). Eating is bodily and participatory. In Scripture, “eating” can symbolize internalization—taking something into oneself (Jer 15:16). In Eden, the act functions as appropriation: “I will take this into myself on my terms” (Gen 3:6).

This helps us understand the moral posture under the act. The problem is not that created reality is evil; the fruit is described as desirable (Gen 3:6). The problem is the posture of grasping what is not given (Gen 2:16–17; 3:6).

And again, the serpent’s framing aligns with this: “you will be like God” (status) and “knowing good and evil” (function/authority) (Gen 3:5). Eating becomes the ritual of autonomous seizure (Gen 3:6).

Why expulsion is coherent containment, not petty punishment

Genesis explicitly links expulsion to a second danger: “lest he… take also of the tree of life and eat, and live forever” (Gen 3:22). Whatever one believes about the metaphysics, the narrative logic is clear: immortality plus disordered judgment would lock the fracture in place (Gen 3:22–24).

So the boundary is protective. The story depicts a kind of containment against eternalizing a corrupted mode of being (Gen 3:22–24). Eden is not the end of the human story. It is an origin (Gen 2:8–10). And the presence of “life” still standing there implies unrealized potential—something not yet received in the right way (Gen 3:22).

Here we can speak carefully, without importing later frameworks: the narrative warns that human maturity cannot be seized by shortcut. It must be received, inhabited, and grown into—or else the “future” arrives as a deformed present (Gen 3:6–13). Eden is not “puberty.” It is the tragedy of premature grasping.

Summary: what Deuteronomy 1:39 actually gives us—and what it does not

Let’s bring the whole argument into a single coherent thread.

  1. Deuteronomy 1:39 uses “not knowing good and evil” as a covenant-liability distinction in a national judgment moment, not as a statement that children are morally blank (Deut 1:39; 1:26–40).
  2. Genesis 2–3 portrays Adam and Eve as commissioned agents under a real command—capable of obligation and answerability—so they are not “little ones” exempt from responsibility in the Deuteronomy sense (Gen 2:15–17; 3:2–3; 3:9–13).
  3. Across Scripture, the “good/evil” idiom often signals mature discernment tied to judgment and governance—whether in kingship (1 Kgs 3:9), mature spiritual formation (Heb 5:14), or development toward capacity (Isa 7:15–16).
  4. Genesis frames the knowledge at stake as Godlike (“like God,” Gen 3:5; “like one of us,” Gen 3:22), and the immediate experiential fruit is shame and alienation—not enlightenment (Gen 3:7–13).

Therefore: Adam and Eve did not become responsible by sinning. Their sin presupposed responsibility (Gen 2:16–17; 3:6), and it consisted not in “growing up,” but in grasping after a Godlike prerogative—moral sovereignty severed from trust and communion (Gen 3:5–6).

That is why the story holds together morally. And that is why it remains pastorally sharp: it diagnoses the human tendency not merely to break rules, but to seize the right to decide reality on our own terms.

Where we go next

In Post 3, we will examine the “discernment/judgment” end of the idiom in greater depth, especially Solomon’s request for wisdom “to discern between good and evil” explicitly for governance (1 Kgs 3:9). That will help us refine what kind of “knowing” Genesis is circling—and why the temptation’s promise of divine likeness is not a throwaway line but a thematic key (Gen 3:5; 3:22).

For now, we have strengthened the foundation:

  • We have affirmed what Deuteronomy 1:39 really does (Deut 1:39).
  • We have shown why importing its “little ones” category into Eden collapses Genesis (Gen 2:15–17; 3:6; 3:14–19).
  • And we have cleared space for a reading in which Eden is not the invention of morality, but the rupture of trust through the seizure of prerogative—whose first fruit is not wisdom, but shame (Gen 3:7)
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