The Jews therefore gathered around Him, and were saying to Him, "How long will You keep us in suspense? If You are the Christ, tell us plainly." Jesus answered them, "I told you, and you do not believe." (John 10:24-25)
The study of knowledge, its tenets, its utility, and its purpose can help us understand what was going on in the mind of the Jews. Not only had they been told Jesus was the Christ, but they had even seen evidence. This book examines the biblical role of knowledge and follows it forward like a philosophical line of thought. Evidence, belief, trust, and faith each find definition within the context of knowledge.
"Think for yourself" was the motto of the Enlightenment which, ironically, is consistent with the longstanding biblical practice of meditation: thinking, reflecting, contemplating until a state of resolve is reached. Knowledge suggests a condition of learnedness, a condition where a person can answer life's big questions for themselves, having thought them through, and not entrusting their answers to a worldview. The big question we must all face in the context of the Gospel is whether we have grasped enough of its teaching to respond thoughtfully.
The simple definition of belief is to accept as true, which brings up another irony stemming from what is part and parcel of the human condition. We tend to believe before understanding. In other words, belief precedes understanding according to the maxim: truth before meaning. A truth-seeker pursues a matter on the basis of antecedent belief, believing beforehand, otherwise the matter would not be pursued.
Furthermore, it suggests the Gospel is rejected on the basis of antecedent belief. Certainly, sound theological understanding takes a good deal of thought, occurring later on in one's Christian walk. The same holds for those who reject the Gospel, doing so long before arriving at an honest insight of its teachings. This is the biblical perspective except for one all important factor: the presence of the Holy Spirit bearing witness to the Gospel.
A final irony of the human condition is that we tend to reason from our convictions and not to our convictions, getting the cart before the horse so to speak, raising a question. If reason operates on the wrong side of the equation, then how do we know our convictions are right? Such questions are among the many concerns that come up in the topic of knowledge.
Does God exist? As a knowledge problem this was addressed by many early thinkers: Augustine, Aquinas, Anselm, Bacon, Paley, Descartes, etc., some of whom sought to develop rational arguments to offer proof. However, the biblical role for knowledge is one that avoids placing emphasis on intellectualism, and the proofs have provided very little evangelical utility.
Commensurately, this clarifies why God's invitation is more subtle than it is compelling, not bluntly proving His existence, but reassuring us as we travel along the path to knowing Him. Our convictions do form, but in response to His reassurance through the witness of the Holy Spirit. In fact, we do see these ideas in thinkers like Aquinas and Anselm who taught that the Gospel is not a knowledge-first, relationship-second, kind of experience but the opposite. The relationship instigated by the Holy Spirit is one that cultivates faith and then supplies it with sound knowledge.
It was at a tree named for knowledge where brokenness is said to have first entered into the relationship between God and humankind, so it makes sense that God would use knowledge as a tool, acting like a fulcrum or a pivot point placed at an entryway back to reconciliation. Yet, there is an aim to knowledge. It leads somewhere, and once on the path to learning there comes a fork, many forks, caused by law. Law is understood as an application of God's dominion, prompting a response to His sovereignty. Accordingly, there is a certain symmetry found between the disobedience of Adam and the obedience of Christ, severing and reconciling man's covenant status symbolized by a tree and a cross.
Our encounter with the Gospel is partitioned into two realms: the realm of the unknown (where we exercise faith) and the realm of the known (where we can see it for ourselves). Law lies at the boundary between them, unfolding a conceptual framework for knowledge, one that draws us toward a decision, harkening, beckoning, and inviting us into a deeper commitment.
Multitudes, multitudes in the valley of decision! For the day of the Lord is near in the valley of decision. (Joel 3:14)
Knowledge, it turns out, is commensurate with depth in relationship. While we are familiar with our neighbors and colleagues, we are more comfortable saying we actually know our friends and family, but we intimately know our spouse with whom we have entered into the covenant of marriage. Deeper relationships exhibit openness, communication, and trust, which reinforces a deeper knowledge of one another.
The ultimate covenant unto eternal life is expressed in the symbol of marriage between Christ and His bride. Salvation, not obtained through works, nobility, or any other merit is, however, associated with knowing God. The New Covenant ushered in at the completion of the age records a notable distinction from the present age: People will no longer teach each other to know God because in the age to come we shall all know Him, an outcome that began biblically with the concept of knowledge at a tree.
"And they shall not teach again, each man his neighbor and each man his brother, saying, 'Know the Lord,' for they shall all know Me, from the least of them to the greatest of them," declares the Lord. (Jer. 31:34)