Knowledge

Knowledge

Knowing God Holds the Future
The ancient Chinese had a unique mechanism for presenting their plays. They would present a play on a two-level stage. On the upper stage, the resolution of the drama was acted out as the story unfolded below. So as tension and mystery were building on the first level, the audience watching the resolution of the plot would yell to the people on the first level, "Hang in there! Don't give up! If you only knew!" What inspired that hope? It was the knowledge of what was happening on the second level.
Joseph M. Stowell recalls this special event:
"I will never forget the 1980 Olympics hockey match between the U.S. team-composed of small, young, amateur players-and the Soviets. During the final period, I was literally on the edge of my seat. I felt all the agony and anxiety of the contest as I watched it on television-and then suddenly we scored to go ahead late in the game! Can we hang on? I was tense, nervous, and traumatized. Our team went on to win, and at last I was ecstatic.
"Later that night, the network broadcast a replay of the game, so I invited some friends over to watch it. I watched the same game again, but was I on the edge of my seat? Of course not. I sat back, propped up my feet, had a bowl of popcorn, and leisurely sipped a cola. I was watching the very same game-but what I knew about the outcome made a radical difference in my attitude and actions."

Danger of a Little Learning
An astronomer who was on his way to give a lecture discovered that his seatmate on the airplane was a preacher. Early in the conversation he assured the clergyman that he knew everything about religion he needed to know. The preacher expressed delight and asked where the scientist had studied religion and how much he had read the Bible.
"Oh, no," the astronomer replied, "I've never studied theology, and I don't read the Bible, but I know the Golden Rule, and I figure that's enough religion for me."
"Well, on that basis," declared the preacher, "I guess I know all about astronomy."
The scientist scoffed and asked the pastor what he knew about the cosmos, to which the man of the cloth replied gravely, "Twinkle, twinkle little star; how I wonder what you are."

Stages of Life
The twenties are the molding years when the young person forms those habits that will direct his career. Then he finishes his school work, stands before the altar, establishes a home, and looks the world in the face.
The thirties are the years of discouragement. It is a hard and trying time. It is a time of battle without the dreams and poetry of youth.
The forties are the years of vision, when a man finds himself, finishes his castles in the air, and knows the value of his dreams.
In the fifties life comes to ripening. These should be the years of jubilee, and a man should do his best work then.
At sixty, a man has committed enough mistakes to make him wise beyond his years. He should live better and do better work than in any other decade in his life. No man has a right to retire in the sixties; the world has a need for his wisdom.
And in the seventies, some of the best work in the world has been done. It is the time when talent, experience, and insight combine to make a worthy and memorable life. Psalms 90:10 says, "The days of our years are threescore and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is there strength, labor and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away." Can the Finite Understand the Infinite?
The story is told of a blind tortoise which lived in a well. Another tortoise, a native of the ocean, in its inland travels happened to tumble into this well. The blind one asked of his new comrade whence he came. "From the sea," was the response. Hearing of the sea, the tortoise swam round a little circle and asked, "Is the water of the ocean as large as this?" "Larger," replied he of the sea. The first tortoise then swam round two-thirds of the well and asked if the sea was as big as that. "Much larger than that," said the sea tortoise. "Well, then," asked the blind tortoise, "is the sea as large as this whole well?" "Larger," said the sea tortoise. "If that is so," said the other, "how big then is the sea?" The sea tortoise replied, "You only know about the water in your well. Your capability of understanding is small. As to the ocean, though you spent many years in it, you would never be able to explore the half of it, nor to reach the limit, and it is utterly impossible to compare it with this well of yours." The tortoise replied, "It is impossible there can be a larger body of water than this well; you are simply praising your native place in boastful words." This is only a Mongolian myth, but one that can teach man a great deal concerning his prejudiced view of his own knowledge. If man knows so little of the natural surroundings of his life, how much less must he know about the Infinite Creator of all things. The Infinite God
The finite can neither see nor comprehend the Infinite. The Infinite has to reveal Himself. Henry Ward Beecher said: "When Columbus drew near to the eastern coast of this continent, he could see that there were mountains, but do you believe he knew what minerals were in them? Do you suppose he knew all the trees, all the shrubs, all the vines, all the herbs there? He knew something about the outlying islands of this great continent, but he did not understand the details that went to make it up. I can understand there is such a being as God, but when it is said that He is infinite, I am so finite that my comprehension ends right there. I cannot understand infiniteness. All things in the natural world symbolize God, yet none of them speak of Him but in broken and imperfect words. High above all He sits, sublimer than mountains, nobler than lords, truer than parents, more loving than lovers. His feet tread the lowest places of the earth, but His head is above all glory; everywhere He is supreme." The Depths of God
At one time, that thoughtful man who became St. Augustine was greatly disturbed because he could not understand the essence of God. "I admit there is a God," he mused, "but how can I know of what He consists?" Christ had come down to earth with the claim that He was God. By His resurrection, which He Himself predicted, He proved that claim. He revealed that God is a Trinity: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. But how could a mind as developed as that of Augustine accept this? One day as he was walking by the sea, he saw a small boy who, with the help of a shell, was emptying water from the ocean into a hole he had dug in the sand. "What are you doing, son?" asked Augustine. He was impressed by the naive answer, "I'm going to empty all the sea into this hole." Augustine smiled. An inner voice, however, was saying to him, "You are trying to do the same thing by thinking you can understand the depths of God with your limited mind." Our Limited Knowledge
A woman who had recently returned from a trip to Europe was asked if she had seen the Rhine in Germany. "Oh, yes," she gushed, "and the view from the top was magnificent!" In the same manner, some Christians claim to know more than they actually do or even more than it is possible for a believer to know, especially about heaven and the life to come. They fail to recognize how imperfect our knowledge is in this life, even of revealed truth. Then they wonder at the rejection of Christianity by so many thoughtful people who try to arrive at the truth of God by their unaided intellect and hence fail miserably to discover a Christ who is so far beyond their mind's grasp.

Just a Handful of Peanuts
George Washington Carver was not only one of America's greatest agriculturists and scientists, he was also the pioneer of the synthetics industry which has revolutionized life in this country and around the world. When he was old and bent with years, he shared with a group of students one day the story of his single most crucial undertaking-unlocking the mysteries of the simple peanut. He first cried out, "Oh, Mr. Creator, why did You make this universe?" "Then," he told the students who were listening intently, "the Creator answered me. 'You want to know too much for that little mind of yours,' He said, 'Ask me something more your size.' So I said, 'Dear Mr. Creator, tell me what man was made for.' Again He spoke to me, and He said, 'Little man, you are still asking for more than you can handle. Cut down the extent of your request and improve the intent.' And then I asked my last question. 'Mr. Creator, Why did You make the peanut?' 'That's better!' the Lord said, and He gave me a handful of peanuts and went with me back to the laboratory and together, we got down to work." The results of that conversation with God are history. God wanted Dr. Carver to realize that his knowledge was only partial, and that his mind was not great enough to unravel all the mysteries of the universe, or even of man. He showed him that such a simple thing as a lowly peanut had enough potential within it to keep his brilliant mind well-occupied for a lifetime. The Prize of Folly
One of Aesop's fables tells of a lottery that Jupiter held for the gods. It happened that the best prize, "wisdom," fell to his daughter Minerva, upon which a general murmur arose that the wheel had been rigged. In order to punish and silence the protesters, Jupiter awarded them the prize of "folly" instead of "wisdom," and they went away perfectly contented. And from that time, it is said, the greatest fools have looked upon themselves as the wisest men.

Finite Mind
Can a man born blind conceive in his mind all of the varieties and properties of color merely by hearing of them? How foolish it would be for a blind man to conclude that because he cannot see colors they do not exist. He simply lacks the capacity for seeing them. It would be equally foolish for us to reject the existence, the reality, of that which is mysterious to us, but which has been revealed to us by God. As Paul says in 1 Corinthians 2:10-11, "But God hath revealed them [the elements of mystery in the gospel] unto us by his Spirit: for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God. For what man knoweth the things of man, save the spirit of man which is in him? Even so the things of God knoweth no man, but the Spirit of God."

Near-sighted
A forester near Hamburg, Germany, found an unusual bird's nest. It was a tiny tin can in which a full-grown cuckoo was imprisoned. Apparently the can had been used by some smaller bird for a nest, and the cuckoo egg had been left there in accordance with the custom of the cuckoo of leaving eggs in other birds' nests. When the eggs hatched, the foster parents discovered that they had a stranger in their home-a cuckoo. When flying-time came, all were able to leave the nest but the cuckoo who was too large to get through the opening in the can. So the foster parents continued to feed the imprisoned bird who, for lack of exercise, had become so fat that it filled the entire can. Its misery was ended only when the forester opened the can and let the bird out. Many men never fly, spiritually speaking, because they are never able to break the bonds that hold them to the narrow restrictions of the single viewpoint of truth they have chosen. God will break the bonds of the man of faith who deliberately opens his heart and mind to "the whole counsel of God" as found in His Word from Genesis to Revelation.

Limited Perception
When Paul says, "For now we see through a glass, darkly" in 1 Corinthians 13:12, he is not speaking of seeing through a dirty windowpane but of looking into a shadowy mirror such as those manufactured in Bible times in Corinth. All our attempts to look at truth as we see it reflected in creation, in history, in our own consciousness, and even in the Bible, can give us only a dim and imperfect idea of God and of heavenly realities because of human finiteness and sin. Our perception of realities may be more or less the truth as far as our perception goes, but this is always dim and imperfect.

Obedience-Gateway to Knowledge
It is difficult to tell which is more important, the proclamation of the grace of God or submission to the Lord Jesus Christ, since the two are so interrelated. Anne Sullivan, who tutored young Helen Keller who was deaf, dumb, and blind, said, "I saw clearly that it was useless to try to teach her language or anything else until she learned to obey me. I have thought about it a great deal, and the more I think, the more certain I am that obedience is the gateway through which knowledge, yes, and love, too, enter the mind of a child."