THE OMNISCIENCE OF JESUS
In exploring the issue of Christ “emptying himself” to become human (Philippians 2:7) it is possible that Christ also chose not to access his divine omniscience (perfect knowledge) while on Earth. The same self-limitation may also have applied to Jesus’ omniscience, just as it did to his omnipresence and omnipotence. This is necessarily a more obscure issue to discuss because power is a more externally evident characteristic than knowledge. How can we gauge what Jesus did or did not know? Was his knowledge on Earth self-restrained just as his power was?
There are a few passages which provide hints. For instance, when the unnamed woman with bleeding touched him in the crowd and was instantly healed, Jesus asked twice, “Who touched me?” (Luke 8:43, 45). Many Christians assume that Jesus, via his omniscience, knew who had touched him but asked the question in order to make the woman confess to the healing as a testimony of her faith. But there is nothing in this biblical narrative which leads us to this supposition. This interpretation arises not out of the passage itself, but out of a presupposition that the incarnate Jesus must have retained his omniscience. A simple, unbiased reading of this passage at face value would lead to the conclusion that Jesus literally did not know who had touched him.
On another occasion, Jesus was asked about the timing of the day of judgment at the end of history. Jesus responded, “No one knows that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” (Matthew 24:36). Here is a clear instance of Jesus not being omniscient while incarnate. Some would argue that this lack of knowledge about the timing of the day of judgment is not a characteristic of Jesus’ supposed limitation during his incarnation but is true of his ongoing eternal existence in Heaven – that only the Father knows this, even when the Son of God is in his eternal heavenly glory. They argue that this lack of knowledge on the part of Jesus does not infer a diminished knowledge while on Earth. But surely this viewpoint is even more problematic, because it essentially denies the omniscience of Jesus eternally.
Another passage that implies Jesus’ limited knowledge while on Earth is Luke 2:52, where we read, “And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and people.” The idea that Jesus “grew in wisdom”indicates that he underwent a normal human process of learning and intellectual development. This implies that, in his humanity, Jesus did not possess complete knowledge from birth but acquired it through experience and education.
In John 11:34, before raising Lazarus from the dead, Jesus asks the mourners: “Where have you laid him?”Lazarus’ sisters respond, “Lord, come and see” (John 11:34). Jesus’ question about the location of Lazarus’ tomb shows that he did not know this detail, implying a limitation in his knowledge. The claim by some that this question was merely asked for the benefit of the onlookers is not an interpretation that arises from the passage itself. Indeed, there would appear to be no reason why prompting Lazarus’ sisters to verbalise the location of the tomb would in any way ‘benefit onlookers.’ This is another clear example of Jesus’ limited knowledge.
Clearly, there were other times where Jesus displayed supernatural knowledge of events, such as his “seeing” Nathaniel sitting under the fig tree before they met (John 1:43-51) and his prediction and knowledge concerning Lazarus’ death (John 11:1-16). The most scripturally consistent explanation of these instances is that Jesus relied on the Father for this revealed knowledge, just as he relied on the Father’s power. His statement in John 5 where he points to this reliance would seem to be equally relevant to knowledge as to power:
“Very truly I tell you, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does. For the Father loves the Son and shows him all he does. Yes, and he will show him even greater works than these, so that you will be amazed.” (John 5:19-20)
Jesus’ admission here that he relies on the Father to “show him” things indicates that he was not accessing his own omniscience while he was incarnate, but needed the Father to “show” or “reveal” things to him that he did not know.
The exploration, over these last few chapters, of Christ’s “emptying himself” in order to become human is both controversial and speculative. It is controversial because there are those who maintain that any hint that Christ did not retain and utilise all his divine powers while incarnate necessarily undermines his divinity. They maintain that those who hold to a more literal interpretation of Christ’s “emptying” are guilty of error bordering on heresy. But, as I have explained, that kind of fundamentalist and reactive position arises from a very narrow definition of divinity which does not adequately address the nuances of causation. It does not differentiate between external imposition and internal choice, or external constraint versus internal restraint.
We must also acknowledge that this issue is deeply speculative. God has not seen fit to provide us with a theologically comprehensive explanation of the precise nature of Christ’s incarnation in his Word. God is satisfied to leave us with only partial understanding of many issues, including this one, at least in this life:
“For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” (1 Corinthians 12:12)
Furthermore, whether one believes that Jesus used his own power and knowledge or relied upon the power and knowledge of the Father while on Earth is, in one sense, an arbitrary distinction grounded in our limited understanding of a trans-dimensional God. The Father, Son and Holy Spirit comprise the one God, eternally indivisible yet simultaneously and mysteriously also existing as three distinct entities. It is therefore possibly misleading to speak of the Son’s power and the Father’s power as somehow distinct and separate. All three Persons of the Trinity are consubstantial, grounded in a single shared essence which includes the divine power. And while theologians split hairs as to the way in which each member of the Trinity seems to specialise in a particular application of divine power, we are incapable of fully comprehending how the divine power resides and is channelled in and through each divine Person. These are mysteries beyond our ken.
In the light of this, a discussion of Jesus’ power verses’ the Father’s power, or Jesus’ knowledge versus the Father’s knowledge, is always destined to be superficial and limited. Perhaps all we can confidently say is that when Jesus “emptied himself” and came to Earth, taking “our very nature”, he underwent a fundamental diminishment which, on the one hand, enabled him to fully experience our human frailty and weakness but which, on the other hand, in no way diminished his divinity.
There is enough there to ponder for a lifetime.
Because we are constrained by imperfect spiritual knowledge in this life, we need to embrace the concept of mystery and avoid the hubris of issuing rigidly definitive dogma on issues which are far from clear in scripture. I find that the debate regarding the different views of Christ’s “emptying” of himself at his incarnation often has this flavour of hubris and dogmatic assertion. Christian history is replete with angry, volatile debate and even persecution of opposing viewpoints, even when both sides proclaim their affirmation of the full divinity of Christ.
My reflections on these issues are offered tentatively, while acknowledging the profound mystery that Christ’s incarnation represents. I strongly suspect that it will be revealed in eternity that none of us have fully grasped the complex relationship between the human and divine in Christ. Only then will we have our eyes fully opened to the wonder and complex intricacies of God becoming human. Only then will we “know fully, even as I am fully known” (1 Corinthians 13:12). Thus, no one can claim to have arrived at a perfect understanding of the incarnation of Christ in all its nuances.
With this proviso in mind, I conclude this chapter with one final thought. The view that Christ “emptied himself” not just of his glory but possibly also of his power and divine privileges in order to live among us leads me to a richer view of Christ, not a diminished one. That God should willingly lay aside his power and privileges and subject himself to our limited natures gives me a greater sense of wonder, not a lesser one.
