I Don't Know

Why uncertainty has become one of the cornerstones of my faith.

I have no idea.

It feels important to occasionally deliver a message to anyone listening that… I really have no clue.

Let me be clear. I’m a fast learner. I’m an eager student. I’m an experienced practitioner. I’m a studied and well-read, wildly curious pupil.

And I don’t mean to suggest that I’m completely ignorant or unprepared to share the messages that I share here.

I just mean to say… I really don’t know.

Uncertainty remains a core tenet of my theological foundation. I’m a proud shoulder shrugger. I’m a humble wonderer. I’ll be a forever novice. And I’m ok with that.

Sometimes I step back and giggle at myself for thinking I have some big spiritual concept all figured out.

Humans have been around for hundreds of thousands of years. For at least 150,000 there has been evidence of religiosity. There are religious symbols that go back over 10,000 years. The Old Testament stories of the ancestors probably originate around 4,000 years ago. People have been debating some fundamental questions about Jesus for 2,000 years.

So… yeah… I don’t know.

I hope I’ve never accidentally intimated that I’m an expert or someone who has it all figured out. I hope I’ve made clear that I am far more interested in the sacred experience of the conversation about faith than landing on some final truth of faith.

I don’t know.

What would it be like if more people admitted that? That they don’t know either.

Maybe some folks have it figured out. But the closer I look, it seems the louder a person is, the more certain they are. Meanwhile, the wiser folks I’ve encountered seem to be among the most comfortable with their own uncertainty.

Oh. I hope this doesn’t surprise you. I hope you weren’t turning to me for certainty. I’ll certainly disappoint you.

It used to be when I would read Paul’s writings in the Bible, he’d come off as a loud and certain internet troll… shouting at those who have disappointed him.

But not anymore. I understand Paul much differently now.

Paul doesn’t know either. He believes. But he doesn’t know. There’s a difference.

In 1 Corinthians, Paul says as much directly:

“For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” (1 Corinthians 13:12 KJV)

I don’t turn to the old King James Version often, but that “…we see through a glass, darkly,” is a poetic, haunting admission.

Let’s look at a more modern translation, “For now we see only a reflection, as in a mirror, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.” (1 Corinthians 13:12 NRSVUE)

Oh heck. That’s poetic too.

We only see a reflection.

We know only in part.

Paul is not shamefully confessing here; he is preaching! “We don’t know.” He’s teaching the early church to be humble.

Upon reflection, recognizing that we’re all looking “through a glass, darkly” seems not to be limited to Christian wisdom.

I never know if Confucius really said any of the stuff I was taught he said, but one such saying is…

“Real knowledge is to know the extent of one’s own ignorance.”

Part of the reason I believe so passionately that the space BETWEEN us is sacred is that I think it gives us another piece of the mirror. I think each encounter is a chance, if we’re curious enough and open enough, to see God through another angle.

I don’t know. I really don’t.

Could it be faithful to simply wonder? Not to be willfully ignorant, but to be gleefully curious.

To keep asking, to keep seeking, to keep an open heart.

I don’t know.

Amen.