The Joy of Not Knowing

Then I saw all the work of God, that no one can find out what is happening under the sun. However much they may toil in seeking, they will not find it out; even though those who are wise claim to know, they cannot find it out. (Ecclesiastes 8:17)

How, then, do we live with this mystery?

Surely we know ways not to do it. Over the millennia, the human race has had glimpses into the Divine and gradually shaped them into doctrine—which, in turn, ossifies into certainty. In times of catastrophe, many ask “why,” get angry when they hear no answers, and abandon God entirely.

Curiously, neither of these impulses is bad in itself. Well-considered doctrine can open even deeper insights into the truth behind the universe. Consider, for instance, the notion of the Trinity and what that says about the supreme importance of relationship among creatures.

Neither is it bad to rail at God. The Bible is packed with characters who do just that—as they hold an unflagging passion for the Divine. Even “abandoning God” might be a positive step for a time, especially if it means abandoning one’s preconceived notions about God.

It’s the insistence on fixed answers that runs us afoul of reality. We want certainty; we get God. That has some profound implications. With our understanding of God ever changing, we might someday have to give up our most cherished notions of truth. We might even live our whole lives by principles that turn out to be misguided.

So how do we live? Well, I don’t know for certain (of course). But here are two clues that might help us move forward.

The first comes from another passage in Ecclesiastes: “I know that there is nothing better for them than to be happy and enjoy themselves as long as they live; moreover, it is God’s gift that all should eat and drink and take pleasure in all their toil” (Ecclesiastes 3:12-13). I see this as an invitation not to hedonism, but to mindfulness—focusing on the Divine in the here and now. From what I understand, Buddhism provides extraordinary insight into this: because we can never know whether God exists (the idea goes), we must concern ourselves with what we can achieve, like mindfulness and enlightenment.

The other clue comes from St. Paul. After his rousing discourse about continually pressing on to the prize of knowing Christ, he admonishes his readers with “Let those of us then who are mature be of the same mind; and if you think differently about anything, this too God will reveal to you. Only let us hold fast to what we have attained” (Philippians 3:15-16).

So we focus on here and now, live out our lives according to what wisdom we’ve gained, and embrace the Divine mystery for what it is. It sounds like a life of faithfulness. And when we go off base, we can trust that, at the right time, the Divine will guide us back. Can we ask for a richer or more reassuring adventure?