Making sense of what I’ll never know
Of all our children, our youngest daughter is the philosopher. (We also have one Bohemian, one hippy, one extremist, one artist, and one realist. If you are counting and know how many children we have, well, you get to figure out whose who.) She can really think up the questions, too, and when she gets started, you'd better not have any plans for the rest of the evening. Her method is to think things through from start to finish, even if it takes all night (as she does not like to start her thoughts over again). This means the questions take on deeper nuances.
Recently she has been entertaining the subject of knowledge and knowability in heaven. Of course it began with the question, “will we know everything in heaven.” She is wise to hypothesize in her processes, because she knows I will ask, “what do you think?” or, “what does the Bible say?”
For some reason, her question got stuck in my brain and I found myself entertaining the thought on a deeper level as well. Will we know everything in heaven?
I don’t think so.
On one hand, since our bodies will be resurrected and restored, I believe we will still have a brain with its limited capacity; however, I believe we will process on a much different level. I believe that instead of knowing everything, “everything” will suddenly make sense and this will be true for all beings in heaven or hell. Why? Because we will see HIM face to face. And since His glory is the culmination of all things, all things will be seen as through a glass. A consideration of Lazarus and the Rich Man reinforces my understanding here. Also, Rev. 18:20 speaks of the rejoicing of the saints (among others) when God pronounces judgment on the wicked. Toss that one around for a while.
On the other hand, if we were able to know everything, wouldn’t that assume that we take on an attribute that is reserved for God alone, omniscience?
Now, we sing this song “Here I Am to Worship” and what I am about to say may seem critical. Please think this through with me. In the bridge of the song, we sing, “And I’ll never know how much it cost to see my sin upon that cross.”
Well, this thought has joined in the mighty chorus of thoughts already in process: what does “I’ll never know how much it cost to see my sin upon that cross” mean?
Does it mean that I will never (that’s an absolute statement, “never”) know, that is, have zero comprehension of knowledge to understand what Christ did by taking my sin upon himself, to die on the cross on my behalf? Like going out to eat and never seeing how much the tab is when someone else picks it up?
If this is what it means, then how can I know Christ? Christ Himself is what it cost to put my sins on the cross. “He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him over for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things?” (Ro. 8:32). If understanding is part of “all things,” I will accept Him because He makes everything make sense. He’s got it all figured out in His head, and I just need to live by faith in what He knows already.
Does it mean that I personally have no experience of loss in my life that could possibly equate to God’s experience in giving up in sending His Son to die by taking my sins upon himself?
This is more plausible because I have nothing in my life to equate that level of giving up on behalf of the entire world.
“I’ll never know” is a tough phrase. It’s too ambiguous for such a definite act of God. I do know that some day, we will know when we see Him and it all will make sense. And when we see Him, our knees will bow and tongues will confess Jesus as Lord to the glory of God the Father. And it will all make sense.
“When you were dead in your transgressions and the uncircumcision of your flesh, He made you alive together with Him, having forgiven us all our transgressions, having canceled out the certificate of debt consisting of decrees against us, which was hostile to us; and He has taken it out of the way, having nailed it to the cross.” (Col 2:13-14)
