To Know and Understand

A prayer used frequently to open worship begins with a plea that we might know and understand what we ought to do.

The Internet age, together with the rapid growth of artificial intelligence, has enabled us to know a great many things. But knowledge by itself is not understanding. Understanding requires the application of meaning to what we know—meaning for ourselves and others, in the context of place and time, intent and purpose, and probable consequences. Understanding requires making connections with other things we know and recognizing our inadequacy in not knowing enough.

The hard work of acquiring the knowledge we need—and understanding it—leads us to look for shortcuts. Many live according to the philosophy of: “I know what I know and I understand what I understand, and that’s good enough for me. If it’s not good enough for you, that’s your problem.” Others are indiscriminate in what they accept as verifiable information, uncritically accepting what some others say is true. Even the most inquisitive among us takes these shortcuts because otherwise we would be driven to madness by the expanse and complexity of available knowledge and ways of understanding. The value of shortcuts depends entirely on the validity and trustworthiness of the sources on which one relies.

Knowing and understanding is made all the more difficult with the addition of the words “ought to do.” What we ought to do is a moral question about what is right and good. It’s often unclear whether what we are able or allowed to do is also what we ought to do. I think it’s something we know intuitively and explains why we are so gifted at self-justification—persuading ourselves that what we do and what we ought to do are the same thing.

We are not left without help. What we ought to do is not so far away that we have to travel far to find it. It is near at hand, revealed to us through the prophets, confirmed by the words and deeds of Jesus Christ that form the cornerstone, keystone, pivot point on which all other knowledge and understanding is measured.

It sounds simple, but there is a catch. Every time we think we’ve got it—that we now know and understand—God has more to say. It’s a lifelong process, and when we look back, we’re often amazed at how much our minds have changed. And we’re not done changing. Change is the sound of God calling and discerning whether it is God’s call is never easy. Too often we substitute the social values with which we’re comfortable for the new way in which God is calling us. Less often, but just as wrong, is to follow any new way simply because it’s new and feels like something we ought to do. The test is always to measure the new against the commandments to love God, self, and neighbor.

The way of Jesus offers no promise of wealth or good times. The way of Jesus offers a life lived to the fullest and a richness of blessing beyond the value of silver or gold, social status, or personal reputation. It is the way by which we are empowered to live with courage as we confront decisions that must be made and conditions that cannot be avoided.