The verse we're looking at is Genesis 3:22, right after Adam and Eve eat from the Tree of Knowledge. God says, "Behold, the man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil; and now, lest he reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life, and eat, and live forever..." It’s that little phrase, "and now," that Rabbi Abba bar Kahana pounces on.
He suggests that this "and now" wasn't just a throwaway phrase. It was an invitation. A cosmic nudge. Rabbi Abba bar Kahana teaches that the Holy One, blessed be He, actually opened a window for Adam to teshuvah – repentance. He bases this on the verse from Deuteronomy 10:12, which says, "And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God ask of you?" See, "and now" can signify a moment for reflection and turning back to God.
So, God, in this interpretation, is essentially giving Adam a chance to say, "I messed up. I’m sorry."
But, crucially, Adam doesn't take it.
Instead, he hesitates. The text uses the word "pen," which Rabbi Abba bar Kahana interprets not as "lest," but as a subtle "no." A refusal. Adam's response is lukewarm. It's not a firm rejection, but it lacks the wholehearted contrition that could have changed everything.
God then asks, rhetorically, "Will he now extend his hand and eat from the tree of life?" The implication is clear: if Adam eats from the Tree of Life after gaining knowledge of good and evil, he'll live forever in a state of imperfection. He'd be immortalized with his mistake.
And that, the text implies, is why God sends him out of the Garden.
It's a poignant image. The Bereshit Rabbah tells us that after sending Adam away, God laments, "Behold, the man has become as one of us." It's not a statement of pride, but of sorrow. A recognition of what could have been, and a mourning for the lost opportunity. The all-powerful Creator, lamenting a human choice. It highlights the incredible weight of our decisions, and the profound sadness that can accompany missed chances for growth and repentance.
This passage isn’t just about Adam's expulsion. It's about the constant invitation to turn back, to make amends, and the consequences of letting those opportunities slip away. It reminds us that teshuvah is always possible, but it requires a willingness to seize the moment, to say "I’m sorry," and to choose a different path. Are we ready to say yes when that invitation comes our way?