Knowing. And Not Knowing.

Whatever you do, don't be a know-it-all.

Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash

We live in a world of know-it-alls. At least, that’s the way it seems, right?

Last week I listened to a really interesting health podcast. The host (a highly-qualified doctor), spoke at length with his guest (another highly-qualified doctor), about the endless health benefits of a popular supplement. These guys clearly knew their stuff. I mean, who could argue with their decades of experience?

Then, just yesterday, I listened to a different popular health podcast. Another 2 highly-qualified experts (both scientists) spoke at length, and gave completely contradictory opinions about the exact same supplement. This pair clearly knew their stuff as well - apparently.

So where does that leave little old me? How am I supposed to know?

“Do your own research!”

That’s why I listen to those podcasts.

“Read some studies!”

Each of the experts cited studies.

“You know the truth, somewhere down in your guts!”

Hmm. My guts are partly why I take the supplement.

I’m getting a little tired of this world full of know-it-alls. Whether it’s religion, politics, health, music, finance, or art, some ‘expert’ will freely pass on everything they apparently know (for £8.99 a month).

Looking back, I’ve felt this exasperation for many years. I remember in 1995 going for a long walk on a beach in Cornwall. I was a young, eager singer/songwriter, with a heart to save the world for Jesus. And I had tied myself up in theological knots - which is quite an achievement at 23 years of age. What I couldn’t work out is why one group of highly-qualified Christian leaders, guys with PhD’s and large ministries, who loved Jesus and understood Hebrew and Greek, and knew the Bible inside out, proclaimed that Calvinism was the correct way of explaining the mechanics of the Gospel. And yet, another group of highly-qualified Christian leaders, guys with PhD’s and large ministries, who loved Jesus and understood Hebrew and Greek, and knew the Bible inside out, said that Calvinism was wrong and explained the mechanics of the Gospel differently.

You see my problem, don’t you? How was I to know? After all, if those guys, with their vast knowledge and theological qualifications couldn’t agree, how was little old me going to manage? Should I just trust my guts?

I walked along the beach and poured out my frustration to God. And as I did, I sensed his love. He met me that day, not with theological certainties, but with the kindness of his presence. As I walked it occurred to me that God might not be as interested in that debate as we seem to be. That by reducing the Gospel to an argument over the mechanics of who, how, and when, we were actually in danger of missing the entire point. And although I didn’t hear an audible voice, I did sense the Lord encouraging me to walk, breathe, enjoy his love, and revel in a simple kind of faith. A faith rooted in Christ (that dare I say, Calvinist and non-Calvinist alike could agree on). On that beach I wrote the lines to what would become a song on my first album:

I’ve a destiny in Christ

There’s a purpose for my life

And I see it through the eyes of Simple Faith

My vision is secure

My decision to endure

I will run the race and I will fight the fight

of Simple Faith

Photo by Sean Oulashin on Unsplash

I’m not saying that academic study of the scriptures isn’t important. We should want to be people who ‘correctly handle the word of truth’ (2 Timothy 2:15). But we better not miss the point of all this. Jesus told the Pharisees, “You study the Scriptures diligently because you think that in them you have eternal life. These are the very Scriptures that testify about me, yet you refuse to come to me to have life.” (John 5:39-40) The offer of Jesus is life! Not just knowledge.

The Apostle Paul spent a lot of time in a city of know-it-alls. Although it was not a major academic centre, Corinth was a city where people were intellectually engaged, and deeply influenced by Greco-Roman rhetorical culture. People gathered to debate the best and worst of ideas. Eloquence was paramount. Insight was highly regarded. Winning a debate was winning at life.

And Paul - excuse my lack of eloquence - was no dumbo. A student of Gamaliel, he could have gone toe-to-toe with the best of them in debating the meaning of life, love, politics, spirituality, and the universe. If you wanted a theological debate, Paul was your guy. And yet in his letter to the Corinthians, he drops this bombshell:

“I resolved to know nothing among you except Christ and Him crucified.” (1 Corinthians 2:2)

His decision to ‘know nothing’ is stunningly humble, and I think, profoundly helpful for us. I mean, how many people in our day and age boast about what they’ve chosen not to know? Most of our tweets, instagram posts, and YouTube videos are about what we supposedly know; and I use the word loosely. With our 10 steps to this, 5 keys to that, and secret bits of knowledge-you-won’t-believe, we ply our trade in knowing.

Of course the Apostle Paul was intellectually engaged. How else would we have his writings? But he chose not to take his stand there. He wasn’t impressed by his own résumé. This isn’t wilful ignorance. Rather it’s a choice to focus on what really matters. This is the sharpening of the mind, the resolving of the heart, and the rooting of the will in Christ alone. Dare I say it, this is Paul’s simple faith. And where does Paul choose to take his stand? Christ, and him crucified. He doesn’t want people to trust in the eloquence of his speech, so that ‘your faith might not rest on human wisdom, but on God’s power.’ (v5) Paul refuses to get sidelined and distracted by endless arguments and debates. What he wants is people to meet Jesus!

I recently had a coffee with a young man I’m mentoring, and gave him some feedback on a talk he had given. As we chatted about the finer details of preaching, I encouraged him to make sure he wasn’t just imparting correct theoretical answers. The words we speak to others, first have to shape our own hearts. Preaching is not about portraying perfection, but about encouraging everyone in the right direction. It’s most definitely not about trying to impress everyone with our knowledge.

I have found in my years of preaching that when I confess a weakness, share a common struggle, or admit to not knowing, people actually open up. Far from being repulsed by my humanness, people are more likely to lean in and listen. Authenticity doesn’t live on a street called ‘Utter Certainty.’ It resides in a heart that chooses to walk by faith, not by sight. No matter how much we study, learn, and grow, authenticity will always require our humility.

Photo by Jonathan Sanchez on Unsplash

Many times in this life of faith, the correct answer is, “I don’t know.” Really? Yes. Like when that single person who longs to be married, wants to know why their prayer for a loving spouse has gone unanswered all these years. I don’t know. Or when that amazingly generous giver is wondering why they were just made redundant. I don’t know. Or how come that faithful, servant-hearted church member, hasn’t been healed? I don’t know. I know that serving them platitudes and reminding them of Christian cliches does not help. But I know that serving them communion, and reminding them that Christ loves them, often does.

I believe that in this world of know-it-alls, it is the humble children, living out a cruciform faith who will actually shine the brightest in the days ahead. The future belongs to the least of these. I know, I know - someone will say that I’m sounding anti-intellectual. By no means. I’m holding the Apostle Paul up as an intellectual heavyweight. And I’m saying he knew what really mattered. That the most intelligent way of engaging with our broken world is not with clever rhetoric, but with loving humility.

The story is told of Swiss theologian, Karl Barth, who was reportedly asked if he could summarise his life’s work in theology. He is said to have responded: “Yes I can. In the words of a song I learned at my Mother’s knee. Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” There it is. The childlike faith Jesus said we needed if we wanted to enter his kingdom. The simple faith Paul rested his weight upon.

Just for the record, do I believe that doctrine matters? Yes. Do I believe that some ideas are better than others? Of course. Do I believe there is such a thing as heresy? No doubt. And I also believe that the nail-scarred hands of Jesus are open, and that whosoever will may come… and if that’s all you know, then you know what matters most.

I read the Bible every day. I love the Bible. I’ve got ideas and opinions on all sorts of things. I believe that truth really matters. But I don’t want to just fill my head with knowledge and become a spiritual know-it-all. As I engage with the scriptures, I want to fill my heart with Jesus and become more like him. I want to come to him and receive the life he is offering today. That’s the offer. Life in all its fullness!

And so read, listen, study, engage with ideas. Yes, of course. But don’t tie yourself up in knots, trying to find your way to utter certainty on every last issue. If you do, you might end up needing that supplement I mentioned earlier. If you’re going to take a stand anywhere, let it be in Jesus. Abide in his love and let it transform you into a conduit of his love. Resolve to know nothing, except Christ and him crucified. You have a destiny in Christ. There is a purpose for your life. See it through the eyes of Simple Faith.

Warmest,

Steve

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REAL LOVE

I recently dusted off the guitar and sang a few songs at an event we hosted for a ministry called Real Love. This amazing team from Majorca, shared about their work on the streets, reaching out to the prostitutes, many of whom have been trafficked there by gangs. The stories were harrowing, but the hope the team bring these woman, the dignity with which they treat them, is utterly inspiring. It’s a joy to partner with Real Love going forward.

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