Solomon ben Judah (also known by his Arabic name, Suleiman ibn Jabirol) lived in Moorish Spain about a thousand years ago. Among the wise sayings attributed to him is this:

There are four types of men in this world:

  1. The man who knows, and knows that he knows; he is wise, so consult him.
  2. The man who knows, but doesn’t know that he knows; help him not to forget what he knows.
  3. The man who knows not, and knows that he knows not; teach him.
  4. Finally, there is the man who knows not but pretends that he knows; he is a fool, so avoid him.

There is much wisdom in this Solomon’s saying, as there is in those from the greater Solomon for whom he was named. The irony is that, in our lives, and perhaps at this very moment, any of us may fall into — not just one — but as many as all four of these categories… at the very same time!

How so? For one, the wisest of men or women (in any single endeavor or field) may be abysmally ignorant of certain other useful knowledge. The greatest phi­losopher, or professor, or physician may need, from time to time, the knowledge and expertise of the skilled plumber, or auto mechanic, or gardener. And it is a truly wise man who “knows that he knows not”, and is still willing to learn, or to appreciate and put to use the wisdom of others.

My father used to speak fondly of an older Christadelphian preacher who was very well educated — like Saul of Tarsus, both in secular and religious knowledge. But, for all his accomplishments, he was nevertheless genuinely interested in what any man or woman could tell him that he didn’t know — whether it pertained to the Bible, or farming or food preparation.

Then, for another, there is the brother who knows a very great deal about the Bible, but cannot bring himself to admit that there is a single question for which he has no answer. Years ago, a brother was teaching at a Christadelphian Bible school, along with an older brother very well-known (and justly so) for his knowledge and speaking ability. During the course of a question-and-answer session, the younger brother replied to one question with a simple “I don’t know”, whereupon the older brother stepped in and gave a long, though somewhat rambling and beside-the-point, “answer”.

Afterward, the older brother chastened the younger brother who “didn’t know”, telling him in no uncertain terms: “Never say you don’t know. If necessary, ignore the first question and pose a different question, and then answer that one… but never say you don’t know!”

We might ask, ‘Why would a man who doesn’t know something… pretend he does?’ And the answer can scarcely be flattering.

But then we realize — if we are honest, I think — that there have been times when every one of us has pretended to know something he or she did not know — because of pride, convenience, desperation, fear, laziness, or some other rea­son yet.

But were we the better off for “knowing not” but pretending we knew? Or were we foolish in forfeiting the opportunity to learn something else?

This brings me to a piece of advice. (If it applies to you, very well. If it doesn’t, feel free to ignore it.) This advice has to do with the…

PAPATSQ

What is a PAPATSQ? (Pronounce this “pah-pats-cue”, by the way.)

It is simply this: Proposed All-Purpose Answer To Speculative Questions…

Do not be afraid to use as necessary. Life will go on even if you say (or write, or think) the following 15 times in a day.

Get ready.
Here it comes.
The PAPATSQ… is… drum roll… bugles…
“I don’t know.”

Try it. Savor each word individually. Practice it (in front of the mirror, perhaps) until the words flow smoothly.

You might use it first with family members, in the privacy of your own home.

Then, when you feel comfortable with that, try it out on good friends. (They may gasp at first, or laugh out loud, but don’t mind them; just keep at it.)

Finally, you’ll be ready to use it in public… at a Bible class, or with your brothers and sisters.

I know it’s tough in the beginning. But every journey of discovery begins with those three little words.

Why don’t we try a whisper first… very softly now: “I don’t know.” There now… that didn’t hurt too much, did it?

“Knowing the Truth”

It is true we “know the Truth”, that is, the fundamentals of the gospel message. But it would be foolish to suppose that, having learned (or more likely been taught!) those fundamentals, we are thereby inoculated against ever believing anything that is untrue! Furthermore, if we appropriate to ourselves any merit in “knowing the Truth” — that is, if we suppose this elevates us above others, intellectually or morally or spiritually — then we may well develop a highly-inflated opinion of ourselves. We might even come to think we need not examine, or re-examine, what we believe and why we believe it. That can be very dangerous.

Such an attitude of pride or arrogance may cause us to close our eyes and ears to other things our Lord would have us learn. The Pharisees of Jesus’ day knew so very much about the Bible, but when Jesus came to enlighten them further (and in some very important areas, by the way, such as his Messiahship), they simply could not believe they were “blind” to anything worth knowing. “Are we blind too?” they asked. And Jesus replied to them, “If you were [truly] blind, you would not be guilty of sin [for you would have the excuse of ignorance], but now that you claim you can see [all things?], your guilt remains” (John 9:40,41).

The irony is that the man born blind could see so much more, from the very mo­ment his natural eyes were opened, than the Pharisees had ever seen with their perfectly good natural vision! And the outcome, wonderful for the one but tragi­cally sad for the others, was this: the blind man did see, while those who claimed they could see remained in their own self-imposed darkness (v. 39).

But if we can continue to admit to ourselves, and to others, that we “don’t know it all” — even after leaving the “world” behind, and even after many years in the Truth — then we may find new “doors” opening to us each and every day. And they will be “doors” to greater knowledge: whether knowledge of God, or of His purpose, or of the world around us, or even of ourselves (self-knowledge being one of the greatest gifts God can give us).

In Ezekiel’s vision of the great Temple to come, he saw water coming out from under the threshold of the temple, and proceeding toward the east. And as he surveyed the stream, he saw that it was first “ankle-deep” (Ezek. 47:1-3), then “knee-deep”, then “up to the waist” (v. 4), and finally “deep enough to swim in” (v. 5). So it is with the Word of God that, like a life-giving stream, flows out from His Temple! While it offers life to all who approach it, it has at the same time shallows where a little child may safely wade, and also depths where even a grown man will need to swim.

If we are afraid of the deeper water, then we will — like the little child — only splash about in the “safest” places. But if we venture into the “depths” of God’s Word, we may learn so much more… provided we don’t mind giving up our comfortable footing on the bottom — and provided we don’t mind praying the prayer: ‘Lord, I don’t understand this; help me to understand better!’

What I don’t know

Now, when we understand there are things we don’t know, we are ready to be taught — and that is a wonderful thing. In fact, it may prove wonderful in either of two ways:

Firstly, as mentioned above, we may more readily learn something we didn’t know before, and we’ll be the better for learning it.

Secondly, and at least as importantly: we may recognize there are certain things we don’t know — certain things for which we cannot, or do not need to, devise good “answers”! Then we’ll be the better for realizing the limitations of our knowledge.

I won’t presume to speak for anyone else, but here begins a list of (a few of the) things I don’t know! These are items, I believe, that fall into the second category above. Should I worry or despair that I don’t know these things? Or can I learn something very worthwhile by coming to see what I really don’t know?

I’ll let you be the judge.

Details of as-yet-unfulfilled prophecies:

Now this item could go on to a great number of particulars, but I’ll content myself with quoting a couple of passages here:

“No one knows about that day and hour [when the Kingdom of God will come], not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” (Matt. 24:36; cp. Mark 13:32,33,35).

What is interesting is how many times this statement of Jesus is repeated, in his parables about the Second Coming and the Judgment for example (Matt. 24:42,44,50; 25:13), as well as in his last message to John (Rev. 3:3). One might almost conclude — on the basis of the number of passages alone — that this uncertainty about dates is the “first principle” of Bible prophecy!

“It is not for you to know the times or dates [when the kingdom will be restored to Israel, that] the Father has set by his own authority” (Acts 1:7; cp. Zech. 14:7).

Surely this is a case where the lesser is incorporated into the greater. If we do not know, now, the “day” nor the “hour” nor the “time” nor the “date” (“season” in KJV) when Christ will come… then we can hardly be expected to know the times (or the details, or the order) of the events that must (might? may?) happen as a run-up or immediate prelude to that Coming.

Of course we can, and ought to, have some general sense of the “signs of the times” in which we live. But what dangers might lurk in encouraging (in others as well as in ourselves) the feeling that we ought to know the whole itinerary of the LORD and His Son (an itinerary that, as stated above, the Father has set by His own authority). Worse yet, the feeling that we are unworthy disciples if we can’t be absolutely sure about the precise order of events leading up to our Lord’s return.

One thing we do know for sure: “We will all stand before God’s judgment seat” (Rom. 14:10), “in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus” (2 Tim. 4:1), and there we will answer for how we have treated the least of Christ’s brethren (Matt. 25:40,45).

Another thing we do know: the servant who thinks he has it all figured out, and believes that his master is staying away for a while yet, may think he has enough time “to beat his fellow servants and to eat and drink with drunkards”, and still have time left over, when he is finished with all that, to prepare for his master’s arrival. And such a servant may well be wrong (Matt. 24:48-51). How much bet­ter would he have been not to “know” when his master was coming, but to work steadily each day on the most positive and helpful enterprise he can think of, in a state of continual readiness for that great event.

As a matter of fact, I have come to see there are so many things I don’t know, that I feel obliged — Lord willing —to continue this discussion next month.