A Moltmannian Agreement to My Last

I wrote my last post on certainty quickly and without a lot of research. Blogging I find to be very much about saying whatever happens to be on my mind. It's not like writing a research paper or anything.

That being said, I found a quote in Theology of Hope which I think is relevant to my thoughts. Moltmann's section is "The Historical Question of the Resurrection of Christ and the Questionableness of the Historical Approach to History." In the initial paragraphs, he is making a point about the epistemological standpoint of the writers of the NT and how they perceived the resurrection narrative. In it he says this (the emphases are mine):

"They did not merely wish to tell of their own new self-understanding in the Easter faith, but in that faith and as a result of it they reported something also about the way of Jesus and about the event of the raising of Jesus. Their statements contain not only an existential certainty in the sense of saying 'I am certain,' but also and togeteher with this objective certainty in the sense of saying, 'It is certain.' They did not merely proclaim that they believe, and what they believe, but therewith and therein also the fact they have recognized. They are 'selfless witnesses' so to speak (Moltmann, Theology of Hope, 172-173)."

Is the Claim to Knowledge a Product of the Fall?

Earlier in 2007, I wrote four blogs on the concept of epistemological certainty (see May and June). The conclusion I came to was that it isn't really possible to have "knowledge" of the existence of God in a modern sense. That kind of knowledge requires an empirical certainty which is not really available to any metaphysical concept. Of course, many of the discussions I had with people who disagreed, or didn't understand exactly what I was saying (due chiefly to my inability to articulate it properly), indicated that the problem this would produce was an inability to believe. They said that if you cannot say "I know God exists" you might as well say "There is no reason to believe." In fact, it has produced the opposite. I no longer feel the need to PROVE God, I am free to believe. The Bible itself has been opened up to me as a self-authenticating system.

Recently, some reading I've done and thoughts I've had in other areas (specifically ethics, the fall, and anthropology) have shed a new light on the discussion which, I think, supports my conclusion on the issue. Unfortunately, I'm not really sure how much of this will stem from my reading and discussions with friends and how much is really from my own mind. And, I'm not really certain how relevant these thoughts are to those topics.


I've begun rethinking this issue by breaking down the sentence "I know God exists." In the sentence, the subject is "I" and the object is, really, "God's existence," or "God." This means that, when someone claims to have knowledge of God's existence they are not really saying anything about God or the certainty of his existence but are chiefly speaking of themselves. In other words, the sentence "I know God exists" speaks chiefly of the knower, not the thing known. It's claim is that "I have God figured out and am beyond the capacity to be wrong about him. I own that knowledge by virture of my own ability to understand, perceive, and prove this." The claim to knowledge of God's existence is a claim to have within oneself the answers.

Recently, much of my preaching has dealt with the concept of the fall and its nature. I've concluded that the real temptation of the fall of man was not about eating a piece of fruit from a tree in the garden but it was a seeking of "knowledge of good and evil" within oneself and not in God. In fact, all sin is really concerned with seeking within oneself what can only be found in God, whether that be life, joy, peace, happiness, fulfillment, whatever.

Prior to the fall, God was the subject and man was the object. The Bible begins with the sentence, "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth." Pronouncements about God and his existence begin, scripturally, with his existence and draw conclusions from there. In fact, the central theme of scripture is that God is always the subject.

It seems to me that the central theme of Christianity has always been to orient Christians away from themselves and toward God. Epistemologically speaking, this means that the goal of Christians is to arrange the sentence so that "I" am not the subject, but "God" is. In other words, it really is a fallen idea to claim that "I know God exists." I was never really created to own the knowledge of God or to have that kind of understanding. I am to begin with God and move from there. As soon as I put myself at the beginning, I am guilty of committing the same sin that Adam did at the beginning of time.

Furthermore, the notions of apologetics or the classical arguments as starting points of theology are also fallen. The attempt to begin with the cosmological argument (the universe exists and has a beginning, therefore we know God exists) is to base belief in God on the existence of the universe and (really) my own existence. It is as if we are changing Genesis 1:1 to say, "Right now our existence necessitates God's existence." It is exactly the opposite statement because the foundation has moved. The foundation for God is the universe, whereas, in scripture, the foundation for the universe is God.

Hence, it really is appropriate to abandon that knowledge or the pursuit of that knowledge and adopt as the starting point for theology God himself. This means that the burden of "proving God" is no longer upon me. Instead, I can start talking about God by looking to revelation.

I guess that this blog isn't really about certainty at all. Of course, it isn't possible to say with certainty, "Yes, I know God exists." That question, from an enlightenment standpoint, is still resolved in my mind. What this blog does say is that the concept of knowledge from an enlightenment viewpoint is not the goal of Christianity at all. Faith in God is exactly that--belief in what we cannot prove. So, my goal is not to prove it but to believe it. That I can do.

Greg Boyd's Spiritual Warfare Q&A

Greetings friends. This post is just a quick one. I want to share a message by Greg Boyd and Paul Eddy. It is actually a 2 hour Q&A session on spiritual warfare. In it they touch on certainty, openness, the will of God, sin, Christianity and the political spectrum, and many other topics. They come to a lot of the conclusions I've come to and published on this blog. And, since we all have a tendency to promote who we agree with, I think the whole thing is definitely a stroke of brilliance.

You can find Greg Boyd's podcasts by searching for "Woodland Hills Church Sermon Podcasts" in iTunes or by clicking Greg's name.

You can also go to Greg's website and download a non-iTunes version. Either way, the message you want is "Spiritual Warfare Q&A."

A Benefit of Non-Certainty

In my recent posts, I have dealt with epistemological certainty when doing theology. My view gets a bad rap sometimes, but it is honest. However, last night I think I discovered a real benefit to acknowledging doubt.

My family and I went out to do some clothes shopping (a truly rare occurence). Of course, after two hours of shopping, I was delirious and groggy. We decided to eat at Applebees (another rare occurrence), and were seated at a table just outside the bar area.

The restaurant was not crowded and it was easy to listen in on the conversations of other people in the room. One man was very easy to hear--he was seated at the bar and talking to a woman there. He sounded like he was a university student, but he was a little older than what is typical. He had had anywhere from two to nine beers, apparently, and was feeling pretty confident. Ironically, he looked and sounded pretty ridiculous. He was one of those lucky guys whose reaction to alcohol was largely philosophical. He began to explain to the woman next to him--in several different wordings and volume levels--this basic idea: "God" is just a human construct developed to provide people with comfort in the face of their struggles.

Now, I was immediately interested and were it not for the fact that I was there with my family and this guy was nearly incoherent, I would have attempted to engage him in conversation. But here is the crux--his statement really had me thinking, and had me a little worried. I began to wonder how I would respond to him if he had presented that idea to me. How do you answer such a claim? The worst of it was, I've heard the question before and even talked about it in classes. This was exactly Ludwig Feuerbach's idea when he inverted the Hegelian Dialectic and claimed that God is a projection of man.

Of course, if God is a projection, he is a poor projection. If we were creating him for our comfort, you'd think we'd create a more comfortable God. That's the first and easiest problem with his statement. But it is not a proof that the man was incorrect. How can I show him that he cannot possibly be right? I came to the conclusion that I couldn't prove it one way or the other. I flirted with despair!

It finally occurred to me that the reason I was having a hard time trying to argue in my mind against his statement was that his statement really wasn't an argument. He wasn't giving a reason not to believe in God, he was giving an explanation for the question, "If God doesn't exist, why is there so much talk about God?" He was shouting (literally) that God is a figment, but was really beginning from the paradigm that God does not exist. But there is a central flaw here related to certainty.

I really think the strength of Christianity lies in something other than knowledge. What do I mean . . . ? The man at the bar last night was resting on the assumption that God definitely does not exist. And his anger was reflective of the feeling of assurance he had about God's ontological status. This is the weakness of atheism: it claims to have all of the ins and outs well in hand--it claims that it knows with certainty that God definitely does not exist. From there, it attempts to explain why we have all of this talk about God. But that kind of knowledge is exactly what is not possible from an enlightenment definition of knowledge--even though that is what modernity claims about God. It really is impossible to prove God's ontological status one way or the other with a modern understanding of knowledge. At last, non-certainty has a bright side!

That is also the strength of Christianity. We don't claim to have complete knowledge--far from it. We are limited humans with limited ability to know anything with certainty. The atheist claims he knows that God does not exist--if he doesn't claim that, then he is really just an agnostic. But the Christian is free from this prison of knowledge to refer to himself as a believer. I finally breathed a great sigh of relief last night when I realized, I don't have to prove it, only believe it. Christians are not knowers in the Kantian sense, but believers.

Really, it takes a great deal of hubris to claim to have knowledge of God's existence or non-existence. As my friend said to me today, what a person is actually saying when he claims to know is that he himself owns that knowledge, he has complete grasp of it. Saying "I know" is really a statement about my ability to know something. But I don't think I am capable of knowing or having a complete understanding.

The Bible means something else completely when it refers to knowledge. It is an experiential knowledge, not an acquiring knowledge. It is this concept of knowledge that I hope to understand someday. I am just about ready to start reading Polanyi's Personal Knowledge and have also picked up Wittgenstein's On Certainty. When I finally come to my conclusion, I'll let you know!

Relative Certainty, Within Assumed Paradigms

Whereas the last few posts have dealt chiefly with our ability to know whether God has acted in a certain situation, it became clear in a continuing series of comments (see the article entitled, "Another Case for Coincidence" and the following comments) between me and one of my close friends that at the heart of this discussion is the nature of knowledge and certainty. I have explained that I, due to the influence of modernism, have ascribed to the enlightenment concept of knowledge as justified, true belief. In Kantian form, I have accepted that it is not really possible to have certainty about anything metaphysical. As my friend Terry has pointed out, it would seem that anything can be doubtable from this viewpoint. And I have to admit, I wrestle with skepticism in my own life.

This post will deal with one question he asked which resonated with me and forced me to wrestle with it. I want the reader to know that I hold my friend in high esteem and respect his viewpoint entirely, though he and I are approaching these issues from radically different mindsets. So that you will know the context of the question he asked, here are the preceding words:

"And how do you think this view will affect witnessing for Christ? The best you can say is, 'I think God is real. I think he sent his Son. You should think this too.' But the person says to you, 'But what if you are wrong?' To which the best you can say is, 'Yeah, I may be.'"

The question Terry is asking is relevant. He is saying, "If you say you cannot know with certainty that God exists, etc., how do you effectively evangelize? Aren't you really shooting your effort in the foot to admit that you could be wrong?" I think I have an adequate response to this. I think that the seriousness of this discussion merits my humility and people should expect that I do not claim to have certainty. Besides this, the person being evangelized who does not believe already thinks I might be wrong. So, displaying a little humility is a positive thing. From his eyes, the scientific naturalists and other atheists are also claiming certainty. But I think it is a much better answer to say, "It is possible that I could be wrong. I'm not perfect and I may not see everything. But from what I can see, I think I have very good reason to believe as I do. Let me share those reasons with you." From and apologetic standpoint, in postmodern culture, I think that's about as far as you're going to get. In reality, I've concluded that most people do not approach Christianity rationally anyhow. Most people do not come to Christ because they've reasoned Christianity to be true or because they heard a well-informed argument about the modern trustworthiness of scripture, but they move to it existentially. It is felt need that drives people to faith in Christ.

But Terry made one more statement that I had no answer for until today. It was this:

"What does this do with knowing the truth, and the truth setting you free? We have to know, Jason."

Now, on the second part of the statement, I think my friend's thought is insightful, though this specific wording doesn't communicate the point I think he is making. Whether he feels we have to know or I feel we do not is irrelevant. Either we know or we don't know. "Have to," doesn't fit the discussion. But what is relevant, and what I think he is really trying to say here is that we do have to speak with some certainty when dealing with the truth claims of the Bible and of Jesus Christ. And here he has a valid point. How do we speak of the truth of the Bible, or the assurance of salvation, or Jesus Christ as the "way, truth, and life" while affirming that it is not possible to have certainty in metaphysical pronouncements?

Truthfully, Terry has really had me thinking this week about this. And a sermon by Mark Driscoll I heard today also emphasized my problem. He said (in a rough paraphrase), "We must preach the gospel with certainty." But how, with a mind moved by the modern notion of knowledge, do I accomplish this?

For me it is too late to retreat to premodernism. I will never experience, this side of judgment, the type of certainty I once had as a child. In many ways, I envy that of some of my friends and I don't want to steal it from them. But I have accepted this concept of knowledge which claims that something must be true to be known, and to know that you know it you must be able to show with certainty the truthfulness of the thing claimed to be known. Since I cannot "prove" the gospel, what hope is there?

In my defense, in one post I mentioned that there is a blindness to our faith. It is the evidence of things hoped for. Faith is, in many important ways, unprovable belief. When Thomas, who sought epistemological certainty, claimed that he would not believe Jesus was alive until he had seen with his own eyes and felt with his fingers, Jesus responded afterwards by saying, "Blessed are you because you have seen and believed. But more blessed are those who will not see and still will believe." I think Jesus was saying that there will be those who recognize that they don't have the type of Kantian certainty that Thomas demanded, but will still choose to believe. Because of this, in a sense, I think the person who claims he does not know with certainty but still believes really demonstrates greater faith than the person who says, "I know this is true and cannot possibly be wrong." One acknowledges doubt and believes anyway (I believe, help my unbelief!), the other claims to have no doubt. Well, I really don't know who has the more faith! There is a good argument for either.

But how do I approach the truth of scripture? I think the answer is actually pretty simple. I think I can believe that Jesus is the "truth" while still acknowledging that I do not have the certainty my friend believes he has this way.

The other day I was talking with someone about my dreams for the future, and what I thought might happen. I was lamenting that a certain opportunity I had desired had not opened up for me and stated, "This opportunity will not happen for me. It is closed to me." Someone I love dearly replied, "With all your claims about certainty, how can you know this is true?" I was immediately frustrated because this person is adept at using my own words to reveal my duplicity. But the truth is, there is relative certainty within specific paradigms. She was right that I don't know everything that is going to happen. In fact, anything can happen. But what I meant when I said, "this opportunity will not happen," was really, "based on what I know about the opportunity offered to me currently, and based on recent events, I feel certain that my chances are virtually nill." My certainty was not epistemologically sound, but within the paradigm of my current career path, my judgment is accurate.

It is the same of the truth of Christ. The bottom line is, I do not think that we can know metaphysical realities with certainty. But I can say this, "within the paradigm of Christianity, we can have confidence that Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. We can have confidence that he will keep his promises and that he does not lie. We can believe that he is true." In other words, "I can't prove it is true. But I can say that, if it is true--Jesus is your answer. And he is a better answer than anything else you're going to try. So, it is reasonable and good to believe it and trust it, even though you may not ever feel you know it to be true."

Oh, when I write it down it feels so weak. But it is the best I can do for now. What else is there for someone who is acknowledging that his life goal of proving Christianity is true is unattainable? If it could be done, why wouldn't it have been done before now? Why wouldn't God have revealed it in ways that were undeniable? I can prove that it is better . . . that it is reasonable . . . that it is practical . . . that it is meaningful . . . and hopeful. But I cannot prove that it is true. That I must take on faith. And I am willing to do so.

Assuming the paradigm, Jesus is undeniable. But I only assume the paradigm on the basis of a reasoned faith.

Another Case for Coincidence

In my last post (directly below), I mentioned that I had made a decision which qualified as irrational because I based it on a feeling. I had two ministry opportunities to choose from, and I chose the one which paid less and had less potential for growth. In fact, the other church I was looking at was offering quite a bit more money (more money than I have ever made in a job) and was in a growing community. The reason I chose the smaller community was that I just felt better about it on a personal level, so I closed the door on the other ministry and pursued it.

In the end, though, I was completely derailed. In the independent Christian Churches, we vote on hiring ministers. As it turned out, when it came time for the church to vote on me a faction in the church stirred up support against me. This faction was angry at the leadership of the church and wanted to work against them and us. I don't know why they did this to us, they didn't tell us.

Anyhow, there were several people I know who believed that the reason I chose this church was in response to God's leading. In fact, one of the elders had told us over and over again that too many things had fallen into place for us to not interpret our coming to the church to be by God's hand. Yet, after the vote he said, "I always say God is never surprised," indicating that God knew this was going to happen the whole time. If God is leading it, why didn't it work? Three quick options:

1. God led us there but knew we would be voted down. Likelihood rating: Dumb.

2. God did not lead us there, and either knew or did not know we would not be accepted. Likelihood: Possible.

3. God may have led us there and may not have. Either way, he couldn't know for certain the outcome because there were so many factors. Likelihood rating: Good. Only the position of open theism is logically consistent with God's freedom to interact and the church's and our ability to decide the outcome. Also, it is not possible to know whether he was leading or not.

In any case, the whole affair ended with heartbreak and my family and I are hurt and back at square one. I think the case is clear that speaking with certainty of God's leading is foolish. Make the wisest decisions you can and trust God, but don't attempt to know what you cannot know.

Is it a "God Thing" or Just a Coincidence?

I think it was Arsenio Hall who, years ago, coined the phrase, "It's a black thing, you wouldn't understand." For some time I saw (and occasionally still see) t-shirts flaunting these words at me in my nerdy whiteness. Thankfully, for the most part, in popular discourse that silliness went the way of the Arsenio Hall show and the Dodo bird.

But in recent years the phrase has been baptized and spiritualized into a new phrase, "It's a God thing." I hear, on a fairly regular basis, people attribute all kinds of things to God's activity--all the while speaking with such certainty that you'd guess that their lives had been filled with fiery bushes and doves floating from parted clouds. I'll never forget a new student who came to the college I worked for claiming that God had shown her that this was the school he wanted her to go to. How did she know? She had done a Google search and our school came up. I didn't have the heart to explain to her that our school came up on the search because I paid a dollar per click for that search term. It wasn't God, it was clever advertising--and she realized it later when she decided she didn't really like our school and that God was leading her somewhere else!

Events of the past week have inspired three very interesting conversations with people whom I have a great deal of respect for. Two of these conversations centered around a major life-decision I have made this week which might very well have been one of the least rational and yet vitally important decisions I had ever made. Ironically, I based a lot of my decision on a feeling, a sense that I needed to or should make this particular decision. The third resulted from a really neat moment my wife and I experienced when a young man who works at a Subway restaurant we frequent offered to pay for our lunch. Interestingly, though we were willing to pay, my wife and I are currently broke and really needed the meal.

On the first event, I was choosing between two options and went an option (A) I had initially thought I would not choose. For some very rational reasons, the option I did not choose (B) was a lot better option. But I chose the one I did (A) simply because I felt better about it. I like to think that that in itself may actually have some rational aspects.

The conversations surrounding this were with a man who used to be my minister (and in many ways still is) and a friend of mine who is a minister. Both of these insisted, at least at first, that I should interpret my feelings (or that it was fair to interpret them) as God's leading. Now, I don't have a problem with the notion that God may lead us--even through feeling. What I do have trouble with is making the statement that I know with certainty that he has led me--and that is what our friendly disagreement was about. The truth is, I think my feelings are just too arbitrary and fleeting to be trustworthy enough to interpret with certainty. And that's ok--I'm not demanding certainty; I'm just stating that I have a lack of certainty.

The second event spawned a conversation between me, my wife, and three good friends of ours. After the young man bought our lunch, my wife turned and asked, "Do you think that this was a 'God event'?" In other words, did God cause this to happen in order to bless us? My initial answer was, "I don't know, it could be--it might not be." And I was thankful either way! One of my friends, though, initially insisted that it must have been God--but later admitted that it really isn't possible to know. (I hope I have accurately represented him here, I'll know if he reads this.)

My question is about whether it is possible to have certainty when discerning whether God has acted in everyday life. Before I begin to address it, I want to clarify that I am not a deist. I do not believe that God is out of touch with life in our universe. I believe he interacts and that the Bible records much of his interaction. I believe he still works in and through his people on this earth. But where I differ with many of my friends is in our ability to have certainty when interpreting events.

Even when we assume (rightly) a supernatural being (God) who routinely interacts with the universe, it does not seem possible that we should live on a planet with 6 billion conscious free agents and a universe of nature instinctively and naturally following its programming without the possibility of random coincidence. There is enough randomness in weather patterns, animal life, the feelings and actions of others, and my feelings to merit my assumption that any event (good or bad) which happens may have meaning (in that God or another free agent had a distinct purpose in it) or not (in that the event was caused by coincidence). Allow me to argue from analogy.

Deer instinctively run from danger. A friend I have enjoys hunting for deer and engages in this activity because he freely chooses to. I go to work every morning because I need the money and because I choose to pursue legal methods to acquire it. Now, let's say my friend is hunting and shoots at a deer and misses. We will understand that this frightens the deer. We expect him to follow his instincts and run away from the sound. Now, let's also say my friend was hunting about the same time I was going to work and close enough to the road that the deer ended up running directly in front of me and I hit it, totalling my 96 Oldsmobile Achieva (finally). What are the key factors leading up to this event?

First, there is nature, represented by the deer. Nature is without reason--I mean, the deer was not reasoning about his actions, he was following instinct. Granted, in a theistic paradigm that instinct is planted by God, but it is indistinct. What I mean is that if the deer were put in the exact same situation twice, his instinct would cause him to run both times--but the odds are he would run in two different directions. In fact, any number of random events may affect him. A gentle breeze may waft a scent by him which triggers his instinct to graze somewhere else in the first place, causing the event to never take place. In other words, instinct is general, i.e. deer run when startled. But the specifics of actions in nature are random. Acts of nature are really affected by three things: instinct (in the case of animals--physics and natural law in the case of inanimate objects and the weather), the actions of free agents, other acts of nature, and chance. When dealing with nature (the deer in my analogy) we must make room for random chance. With God in the paradigm we can say that he has built randomness into the system.

Second, there are the choices of free agents--in this case, me and my friend. Now, there may be all kinds of factors--from arbitrary ones to ultimately purposeful ones--but the simple truth is this: I was in my car and my friend was in the woods because we both chose to be. Nothing made us be, we simply chose it. When it comes to free agents, our decisions are basically affected by these things: nature, needs, desires (conscious and subconscious), and the actions of other free agents (which may often enough include God). We take all these into account when making decisions, but we make them consciously just the same, and we could choose not to. In this sense, we are almost like necessary beings. We are necessary to bring about the contingent actions we do. (Of course, we are not exactly like necessary beings because we are definitely caused.)

The thing is, when it comes to events in our lives, we must assume there is some randomness. If I am making free choices and my friend is making free choices, it is only a matter of odds that our paths may eventually cross without our knowledge or planning. Throw into this the fact that there are 6 billion people on this planet making free choices and the randomness of our lives emerges. It always seems silly to me to insist that when two people meet we must assume that God has brought them together. What would have happened if one had chosen something else? The answer is, they would have met someone else. Now, God may act and interact here and there outside of our knowledge, but if he is guiding everyone to meet the way they do--well that's just determinism. And I'm not into that! The odds of meeting one person out of 6 billion are nearly one in 6 billion--yet I meet new people every day! Randomness in life is truly an every day occurrence.

I am not a deist. I am not saying that God is not involved in creation. What I am doing is making a case for randomness and the impossibility of epistemological certainty when approaching "brushes with the metaphysical." It may be that God influenced or led one of us to be in a certain situation. But the problem is, we can't know it with certainty. We can guess it, and we might have good reason to. But we cannot know it. And the truth is, we cannot prove it wasn't coincidence when coincidence must be understood as an element in the system God created.

Why did our friend at Subway buy us lunch? Perhaps God saw our need and gently influenced him to do so by planting the idea in his mind. Perhaps God inhabited his body outside of our friend's free will and caused him to buy us lunch. Perhaps our friend simply responded to us out of love. Perhaps he felt sorry for us. Perhaps someone tipped him off that we were broke and needed help. Maybe he was moved by something we said or did which revealed the work of God in our lives and he freely responded to that. But my answer to the question, "Did God do this for us?" must be, "I don't really know." I like to think he did, and I believe he is taking care of us. Truthfully, I really believe God blessed us with lunch through our friend. But we're talking knowledge here, not belief. Belief requires intellectual agreement, knowledge requires proof (see my appendix at the end of this article). Though I believe it, I cannot rule out the fact that our friend acted freely and could have chosen not to. I cannot rule out the randomness of our encounter--he could very easily have chosen not to come in to work that day. His boss could have scheduled him for a different time. I could have been hit by a meteor on the way in the door but I wasn't, therefore, nature was favorable to the event (I had to work nature in somehow). Many things had to happen in just the right way for this event to occur--which may be evidence for God's activity and it may not. The truth is, if the event hadn't occurred, whatever event did occur would also have needed many events to happen in just the right way in order to occur. And something is going to happen one way or another.

So what, then? Do we give up? I think we can make a few assumptions. First, God does not have every event planned for our lives (see appendix 2). He has listed general instructions (what type of person I should marry, what types of activities are wrong) and has given us a basic purpose (what kind of life I should lead) in his revealed word, the Bible. The specifics (i.e. who I'll marry, where I'll work) he leaves up to us. Second, God does act in the universe. Third, humans are free agents who freely choose to do whatever they want to do, even if those choices are influenced by needs, desires, etc. Fourth, events in nature are determined by instinct, physics, chance, and sometimes the actions of free agents (i.e. global warming and the Genesis flood).

Mix these ingredients together and what do we have? An Open System! (Isn't it predictable that this is my conclusion?) I think God has created a system in which anything can happen, anything is possible. I think God is working within that system to accomplish his purposes. But we are really blind to him. We cannot see clearly what he is doing and why. We cannot always tell the difference between chance, our feelings, and the actions and will of God. Sometimes we are confused. For this reason, we must do the best we can do to follow him and trust that God will take care of the things we cannot see. And we mustn't assume too much that we cannot know. I think there is a danger in assuming that God must have provided my free lunch. It begs the question, why doesn't he do the same for my brothers in Christ who are starving somewhere else? I think the only right answer to questions like, "Is this a God thing?" and "Did God lead me here?" is, "I don't know for certain--it's possible. But I'm going to follow him whether he did or didn't--though he slays me yet will I serve him!"

Is it a God thing? Only God knows.

Appendix: My definition of knowledge is the enlightenment definition. Knowledge is justifed true belief. Of course, by this definition, knowledge of something is only possible if that something can be proven--until it is proven it is only belief. Hence, my wrestling with the question, "Do you know God exists?" I think the answer is, "I have faith that he does, but not knowledge." Yet I acknowledge that there is a biblical definition of knowledge which is quite different. But I have difficulty wrapping my brain around it. I have Michael Polanyi's book, Personal Knowledge, but I have not started it yet. It is my hope that this book will help me make my epistemological shift.

Appendix 2: Does God ever have a specific in mind? Even though I stated that I do not think God has all the details of our lives mapped out, I think it is entirely possible that he knows of occasional specific situations in which he may want one of us to act or live or which he feels are best for us. It is my belief that he may act through "open and closed doors" or through the gentle nudge of a "feeling of leading." But we must be very careful with this. We can't always see all the doors well enough to say we know all the doors were open or closed and we can't always adequately interpret our feelings. For this reason, I think we are almost better off to assume he is not leading us--to just do the best we can and trust he'll fill in our gaps.