Imaging the Kingdom V: Agnosticism in the kingdom of God

This long-overdue installment of Imaging the Kingdom will be focusing on what I consider to be a healthy degree of agnosticism in the Christian faith, and I’d like to begin with a personal story. In my first year as a theological studies undergraduate student I became aware of an interesting issue within American Christianity: the age of the earth and the interpretation of the Book of Genesis. Coming from a more scientific background, accepting the idea that the universe originated with the Big Bang was no struggle for me. Belief in the God of creation and the discoveries of contemporary science were not contentious, unless of course those scientific conclusions depended entirely on an exclusive naturalism, a presupposed atheism that is just as certain of the non-existence of a deity as theism is of the existence of one. Despite claims of the purity and certainty of science and reason, I found these atheistic presuppositions to be more experienced-and-feeling-based, like a religion – but I digress.

Through my late exposure to American Evangelicalism I was confronted with another story, a story that claims with certainty despite strong scientific evidence (proof even!) that the earth alone is some 4.5 billion years old, that argues for a ‘young earth’ model. If the earth is only several thousand years old, then how could biological evolution have happened? Exactly. This view also claims that the ‘theory of evolution’ (as if emphasising ‘theory’ makes it less legitimate straight away) is a fabrication of the godless scientific community. While many evolutionary biologists have presupposed atheism—seeing evolution, as opposed to theistic creation, as a legitimate way of explaining the diversity of life on earth—I still found no significant tension between the concept of evolution and my belief in God. That may simply be a matter of my own ignorance, but indulge me.

So as a first year undergraduate student I was confronted with these ‘young earth’ views and I wasn’t sure what I ought to do with them. I decided to consult someone I trusted, someone whose name was synonymous with ‘wisdom’ in the seminary I attended: Ed Curtis. Dr Curtis was (and still is) a white-haired sagely Professor of Biblical and Theological Studies who specialised in the Hebrew language and Wisdom Literature. On top of this, prior to pursuing theology he studied physical science and worked as an engineer and physicist. I approached Dr Curtis during a theological staff-student lunch and shared my recent confrontation with the conservative Evangelical position on creation. He told me that he found himself confronted with the same tension, but in his gentle Texan-drawl he delivered a profound piece of wisdom that has stayed with me since: ‘If we only concerned ourselves with that which we can actually know we’d have enough on our plate.’

This reality puts a significant perspective on how we approach issues of doctrine, belief and practice as Christians. The ‘that which we can actually know‘ that to which Dr Curtis referred is essentially boiled down to the love that God has revealed to us so explicitly.  In other words, as Christians we know that God loves the world that they created and the incarnation and giving of Jesus Christ in order to upend the power structures of this world is a profound demonstration of this love. Not only that, but in response to this love, empowered by God’s Spirit, we are called to love God and to love our neighbour. In fact, loving our neighbours is very much synonymous with loving God, as we hear in Jesus’ words from Matthew 25:31-40 (NRSV):

‘When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory.  All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left.  Then the king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”  Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink?  And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing?  And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?”  And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family,* you did it to me.”’

Truly, if we primarily concerned ourselves with caring for the holistic needs of all of those around us we would have plenty with which to occupy ourselves. That all sounds so beautiful, but that still leaves the issue of uncertainty wide open and Westerners don’t like uncertainty, right? A more troubling thing is that these adamant ‘young earth’/’anti-evolutionary’ views are not bound the sidelines of public discussion – the prominent Republican political figures Sarah Palin, Michele Bachmann and Rick Perry (the latter two are currently competing for the Republican Party’s nomination for president) all hold to and promote conservative Evangelical views on these issues. In our society these people have a right to hold these views, but the general intolerance demonstrated by many who hold such views only seems to promote needless division.

So what happened? How did we get to this point? At one point our Enlightened Western world accepted that through the power of our good science and our right reasoning we can solve anything; we can have certainty. Over the last few centuries, the findings of science and reason began to challenge the way that we understand Christianity, from Thomas Jefferson’s attempt to remove all things supernatural from New Testament in writing The Life and Morals of Jesus of Nazareth in 1820 to Stephen Hawking and Leonard Mlodinow’s 2010 book The Grand Design, which asserts that the origin of the universe need not be explained by the existence of God but by physical laws alone. In reaction to these assertions, many Christians (primarily, though not always, those of a more conservative brand) have outrightly rejected science and reason, or have tended toward developing their own exhaustive analytical philosophies and pseudoscience.

While there is no room for half-baked, reactionary ‘science’ in the marketplace of ideas, providing a rational defense for Christian belief/theology is not entirely out of the question. But what I’ve come to appreciate is the freedom to simply not know. In other words, the inevitable transcendence of God (the inability for humanity to know everything about God) means the inevitable ignorance of humanity. The sheer otherness of other people should be enough to help us realise our inevitable, eternal ignorance. Even our inability to know ourselves fully shows us our ignorance.  We don’t need to be insecure about uncertainty and paradox. It’s okay to answer, ‘I don’t know,’ – it’s even okay to answer, ‘I don’t know and I probably never will.’

Over the last few years I’ve engaged with this issue of agnosticism with a close philosopher friend who directed me to the eminent 20th-century Austrian philosopher, Ludwig Wittgenstein. Wittgenstein stresses the importance of holding onto epistemological humility in Philosophical Investigations (426):

Here again we get the same thing as in set theory: the form of expression we use seems to have been designed for a god, who knows what we cannot know; he sees the whole of each of those infinite series and he sees into human consciousness. For us, of course, these forms of expression are like pontificals which we may put on, but cannot do much with, since we lack the effective power that would give these vestments meaning and purpose.

In the actual use of expression we make detours, we go by side roads. We see the straight highway before us, but of course we cannot use it, because it is permanently closed.1

It seems that Wittgenstein is telling us that both our language and our ability to know are significantly limited, thus necessitating a self-reflective hint of humility in how we argue for/hold onto various ideas. I see this fitting perfectly with a healthy Christian agnosticism, as Barth expresses in his Dogmatics in Outline,

Christian faith has to do with the object, with God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, of which the Creed speaks. Of course it is of the nature and being of this object, of God the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, that He cannot be known by the powers of human knowledge, but is apprehensible and apprehended solely because of His own freedom, decision and action.2

This is not to say that we stop our pursuit of the knowledge of God, but that while we pursue a better knowledge—a knowledge that, when coupled with action, has the potential to transform lives and deliver those who are oppressed from their oppressors—we must always hold onto that which is most central to the Christian faith: the grace and love of God. We can and should disagree with one another, as diversity is part of what potentially makes the Church so effective, counter-cultural, welcoming and healthy, but we should also take very seriously the fact that none of us will ever know everything.

We believe in one God, the Father All Governing, creator of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible;

And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, begotten from the Father before all time, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten not created, of the same essence as the Father, through Whom all things came into being, Who for us [humans] and because of our salvation came down from heaven, and was incarnate by the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary and became human. He was crucified for us under Pontius Pilate, and suffered and was buried, and rose on the third day, according to the Scriptures, and ascended to heaven, and sits on the right hand of the Father, and will come again with glory to judge the living and dead. His Kingdom shall have no end.

And in the Holy Spirit, the Lord and life-giver, Who proceeds from the Father, Who is worshiped and glorified together with the Father and Son, Who spoke through the prophets; and in one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church. We confess on baptism for the remission of sins.  We look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Amen.3


1. Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations, translated by G. E. M. Anscombe (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1953), 127e.
2. Karl Barth, Dogmatics in Outline, translated by Colin E. Gunton (London: SCM Press, 1949), 15.
3. John H. Leith, ed., Creeds of the Churches (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1982), 33.


12 thoughts on “Imaging the Kingdom V: Agnosticism in the kingdom of God”

  1. I never knew that story about Dr. Curtis, who, incidentally, happens to be my landlord! I truly appreciate the insight and tone of your post–my friend Rob once mentioned that perhaps the “sin” in the garden of Eden was the desire to try to know what God knows…

    We certainly keep pushing for more knowledge when we don’t even act on the things that we do know–this is a good reminder for me. Thanks Elijah!

  2. I wish people would have more of this vibe with the origin/problem of evil too. It’s a great thing to think about and put forth ideas on but at the end of the day we just don’t know. We haven’t been given a philosophical explanation.

    What we do have is Christ demonstrating what God has done to take care of it. We have a story and a face as our only answer for now. Seems like a good thing.

    1. Anthony,

      I emphatically agree with you. We know that we have a God who is concerned for the world and has done something about it through Christ. Thanks for your thoughts!

  3. Excellent post, as usual.

    I had 2 things I wanted to mention:
    1. I like the idea of a healthy agnosticism when dealing with larger theological issues, because at the root of things, we just don’t know. We are human and therefore constrained to human ideology and thinking. I think Tozer sums it up nicely: “Wrong ideas about God are not only the fountain from which the polluted waters of idolatry flow; they are themselves idolatrous.” (I know it’s slightly, contextually different, but it would take a lot of writing to get to my point and i’m hoping people can make the jump).

    Now people may take this a step further and say, so you think there’s no correct answer to x or y question? And my response would be, of course there’s a correct answer, and I look forward to the day i can find that out!

    2. I also like the idea of focusing on what we know. In the beginning of Mere Christianity, Lewis points out that he will not go into some of the deeper theological issues because at the heart of things, Baptists and Lutherans (with as much as they disagree upon) are going to agree on the heart of the Gospel, man’s sin and separation from God, and Jesus’ sacrificial, propitiation on our behalf. I know this is an over-generalization, but what can i say, I think hyperbole is the greatest single figure of speech in the history of the world.

  4. Fantastic. I was raised in the “Creation versus Evolution” Christian culture, as most evangelicals are. It is really a hateful, pointless, and fruitless debate. The universe is, clearly (scientifically), billions of years old (Thank you, Mr. Doppler). Does this change how God loves us, or how we ought to love others and share the Gospel? Most definitely not.

  5. First, this is a wonderfully clear and thoughtful post. Thanks for that.

    Second, one thing to keep in mind is that I don’t think that the “age of the earth” debate (which I tend to not care about) is really about the age of the earth at all, but about the authority and truthfulness of the Bible. That strikes me as an important thing to recognize as explicitly as possible. What’s at stake is really inerrancy, first and foremost. If the Bible didn’t say that God created the world in 7 days, and if it also didn’t have records of human lineage in the creation narratives that, when added up, make for a 6,000 year old earth, then no one would care about what scientists’ thought of the age of the earth. Just like there isn’t really any Christian push back about the ordering of the periodic table.

    And that, it strikes me, is an important question: is the Bible true? And if so, how true?

    We might actually have room here for a bit of push-back on your post: you mention that the story of redemption is the key truth to hold tightly. But where do you get that idea? Well, from Scripture of course. But then how do you know that Scripture- or at least that part of it- is true? Knowing you as I do, I have a feeling that it has less to do with the arguments in a book like Jesus Under Fire and more to do with, well, something else. But where? Do we simply decide that we’ll rate the Gospels as being more true than Genesis?

    I really don’t know (which isn’t to say there’s not an answer- just that I haven’t read enough of that kind of thinking to know what it is). But it does seem to me that a lot of this stuff is more interconnected than many let on.

    Andrew Faris
    Someone Tell Me the Story

    1. Andrew,

      Thanks for your encouragement and thanks for bringing up these very real issues.

      Regarding your second point, I honestly don’t think that the ‘age of the earth’ debate is simply a matter of whether or not one believes in the authority and truthfulness of the Bible. I believe that Genesis is a true reflection of God’s actions and intentions for creation, but I wouldn’t see it a necessarily possessing the same ‘historical’ merit of the Gospels; that is to say, the Book of Genesis was written to communicate different types of things than the Gospels. Even between the four Gospels we observe different approaches to communicating historical narrative (perhaps the most obvious being the distinct chronology of St John’s Gospel). As you rightly say, there are chronologies in the Book of Genesis that make for a very young earth, but I don’t think that we are to take them ‘literally’ in our contemporary sense. This is evident in other places in Genesis, like the story of Cain, who from what we can gather from the text at the point of his banishment is one of only two descendents from Adam and Eve, the first two people created by YHWH. But what we find is that after Cain has slain Abel he is banished to a place called Nod, where somehow there is a community of other humans (Genesis 4:16-17).

      As for inerrancy, I don’t see that as a necessity in understanding the authority of the Bible. The way I see it, the questions ‘Is the Bible true?’ and ‘if so, how true?’, are not entirely appropriate. I would say that the Bible is ‘true’; not true to a particular degree, but rather, true in a particular sense.

      In that way we don’t have to decide that the Gospels are ‘more true’ than Genesis, but that they are true in different ways because the authors/communities that have transmitted them to us had different motives and were communicating different aspects of what they considered orthodox belief.

      This is where we may differ significantly: I believe that the Bible is authoritative, but I believe that it is only authoritative because of God’s sovereignty through the Church. The Bible does not stand on its own, but in the stream of Christian tradition, shaped by the work of the Holy Spirit and the Apostolic Tradition. The Scripture stands tall in the Christian tradition, but it is not the head of the Church – Christ alone is the head of the Church. Tom Wright writes in Scripture and the Authority of God, ‘[The] phrase “authority of scripture” can only make Christian sense if it is shorthand for the “authority of the triune God, exercised somehow through scripture”.’ ([London: SPCK, 2005], 17.)

      I don’t know if any of these brief thoughts are very satisfying, but that’s a quick bit on how I see the issues you’ve raised. Your thoughts?


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