Beyond Categories:
A Biblical Approach to God’s Knowledge and the Problem of Evil
From time to time, friends and colleagues ask me where I “fit” within the familiar philosophical categories about God’s nature—whether I lean Reformed, Arminian, Molinist, or toward Open Theism. It is an understandable question. These frameworks attempt to explain how God’s knowledge, power, and goodness relate to the existence of evil. Yet I find myself increasingly unconvinced that Scripture requires me to settle within any of these systems. My concern is not to defend a philosophical model, but to read the biblical text carefully and allow it to speak on its own terms.
Each of the major positions, in its own way, tries to preserve something important. The Reformed tradition emphasizes God’s sovereignty and foreordination, yet it must work hard to avoid implicating God as the author of evil. The Arminian tradition rightly safeguards human responsibility, but struggles with how divine foreknowledge relates to future certainty. Molinism introduces the idea of “middle knowledge,” attempting to reconcile divine sovereignty and human freedom, though it depends on speculative categories not explicitly grounded in Scripture. Open Theism, seeking to protect human freedom and divine goodness, suggests that the future is not fully known even by God—a claim that stands in tension with many biblical affirmations of God’s comprehensive knowledge.
My approach is different. I take seriously the clear affirmations of Scripture: that God knows all things (Psalm 139), that He is sovereign and accomplishes His purposes (Isaiah 46), and that He is wholly good and not the source of evil (James 1). Rather than modifying these attributes to solve philosophical tensions, I ask a different question: What reasons does Scripture itself give for why God allows what He does? The answer, I believe, lies not in redefining God, but in examining the biblical narrative more closely.
A key mistake in many discussions is the assumption that if God knows something and has the power to prevent it, then He must either cause it or be morally responsible for it. This assumption does not arise from Scripture itself but from a philosophical expectation imposed upon it. Biblically, knowledge and causation are not the same. Knowing that something will occur does not mean one brings it about. The text consistently presents God as one who knows, who permits, and yet who remains just and good.
Consider the story of Joseph and his brothers (Genesis 37). Joseph’s brothers act out of jealousy and hatred, selling him into slavery. Their actions are clearly evil and are later acknowledged as such. Yet when the narrative reaches its theological climax (Genesis 50:20), Joseph declares: “You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good.” This statement is crucial. The same event is described with two distinct intentions: human evil and divine good. God did not need to become the author of their sin in order to bring about His purpose.
What makes this even more significant is that this event does not stand in isolation. Long before Joseph, God had already revealed to Abraham (Genesis 15) that his descendants would be strangers in a foreign land, enslaved and afflicted, but would eventually return. Importantly, God adds that this delay would occur “for the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet complete.” This introduces a broader framework. The descent into Egypt, the suffering there, and the eventual deliverance are all situated within a larger moral and redemptive timeline. God’s knowledge of future events did not force the brothers’ actions, nor did it eliminate their responsibility. Instead, their freely chosen evil became part of a wider unfolding plan that included judgment, patience, and eventual restoration.
This pattern appears elsewhere in Scripture. In (Romans 1), humanity is described as knowing God yet choosing not to honor Him, resulting in God “giving them over” to their desires. In (2 Peter 3:9), God delays judgment out of patience, allowing time for repentance. In (Deuteronomy 8:2), testing is permitted in order to reveal what is in the human heart. These texts consistently show that God’s allowance of events is often tied to moral, relational, and redemptive purposes—not to any deficiency in His knowledge, power, or goodness.
The most striking example, of course, is the crucifixion of Christ. (Acts 2:23) states that Jesus was delivered up “according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God,” and yet those who carried it out are called “lawless men.” Here again, divine knowledge and purpose coexist with genuine human responsibility. God’s plan does not eliminate human agency, nor does human evil overturn divine intention.
Even more directly, this same passage makes the logic unavoidable (Acts 2:23). Jesus was “delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God,” yet those who crucified Him are still identified as “lawless men.” This is critical for the discussion: God knew, God had a purpose, humans acted wickedly, and humans remain responsible. However, this must be stated carefully: God’s purpose in this event does not mean that He needed the death of Jesus in order to satisfy some internal deficiency or to appease divine anger in a mechanical sense. Rather, Scripture presents God as working through human evil to accomplish redemption, not as being dependent on that evil. The cross reveals God’s redemptive wisdom and purpose, but it does not imply that evil was a necessity imposed on God. In this way, the text dismantles the assumption that foreknowledge must equal causation or moral blame, while also guarding against the idea that God is dependent on evil to achieve His ends.
To clarify this further, consider a simple analogy. Suppose I know with certainty that a violent act will occur, and I have the power to intervene. If I choose not to act immediately, it does not automatically follow that I am evil, ignorant, or powerless. There may be morally sufficient reasons for restraint—reasons that are not immediately visible to observers. Yet in many discussions about God, these are the only options people consider: if He did not stop it, He must be either unwilling (and thus not good), unable (and thus not powerful), or unaware (and thus not all-knowing). Scripture invites us to consider a fourth possibility: that God knows, is able, and is good, yet allows events for reasons consistent with His justice, patience, and redemptive purposes.
For this reason, I do not feel compelled to locate myself within a predefined philosophical category. The biblical data allows me to affirm without hesitation that God is all-knowing, all-powerful, and wholly good, while also acknowledging that He permits events for reasons that are often explicitly revealed in Scripture. The task, then, is not to reconstruct God according to our philosophical expectations, but to understand His actions according to His revealed purposes.
In the end, the question is not whether God knew or could have acted differently. The question is whether we are willing to let Scripture define the framework in which those realities make sense. When we do, we find that the tension is not resolved by diminishing God, but by deepening our understanding of His ways.