Does God know the future?
What if I told you that every decision you'll make tomorrow... every conversation you'll have next week... every challenge you'll face next year... God already knows about it? Not just knows about it—but has known about it from before the foundation of the world. That thought either fills you with incredible comfort... or it terrifies you. Maybe both. Because if God truly knows the future, what does that mean for your choices? Your prayers? Your suffering? Your hope? Today, we're diving into one of the most profound questions in all of theology: Does God know the future? The answer is going to change how you pray, how you trust, and how you face tomorrow.
Welcome back to Word for Word, I'm Austin Duncan. If you're just joining us, this series isn't about giving you easy answers—it's about wrestling with the deep truths of Scripture together, examining what God's Word actually says about the questions that keep us up at night. And let me tell you, today's question has kept a lot of theologians up at night for centuries. Does God know the future? It sounds simple enough, right? But as we'll see, this question touches everything—your understanding of prayer, your response to suffering, your confidence in God's promises, and even how you make decisions.
Before we dive in, I want you to know something. This isn't a topic where I'm going to sit here and pretend I have it all figured out. Some of the brightest minds in church history (Augustine, Aquinas, Calvin, Arminius) have wrestled with these truths, and there's still mystery here. But that's okay. Sometimes the most important questions are the ones that humble us and drive us deeper into dependence on God.
The Weight of the Question
Imagine you're a parent, and your teenage daughter is getting ready for her very first date. She’s excited, nervous, adjusting her outfit in the mirror one last time. And as she walks toward the door, you—somehow—know exactly how the evening is going to unfold. Not because you’ve tracked her phone or interrogated the boy ahead of time, but because you just know. You know which restaurant they’ll go to. You know what they’ll talk about in the car. You even know that moment when he’ll nervously spill ketchup on his shirt, and she’ll laugh a little too loudly, trying to cover the awkward silence.
You know it all—not because you’re forcing it to happen, but because, somehow, you already see it.
Now here’s the question: if you know all of this ahead of time, does that mean you caused it? Are they truly making free decisions, or are they just walking through a script that’s already been written? That’s the kind of tension we feel when we start asking serious questions about God’s foreknowledge. If God truly knows the future—not just in broad strokes, but down to the smallest details, the thoughts we’ll think, the words we’ll say, the mistakes we’ll make—what does that mean for our freedom? Are we choosing, or are we just playing out a story that’s already been decided?
And it doesn’t stop there. If God knows the future, then what does that mean for prayer? Are we asking for something that’s already determined? Is prayer just for us, or does it really move God? What about suffering? If God saw it coming—if He knew the pain was going to hit you that hard—why didn’t He step in?
These aren’t just intellectual exercises. These are questions people ask when they’re hurting, confused, or searching for hope. This is the mom sitting beside her child in the hospital room, wondering why the treatment isn’t working. This is the student trying to decide which college to attend and wondering if it even matters. This is the man kneeling by his bed, praying for his marriage, asking, “Lord, do You already know how this ends?”
See, when we talk about God's knowledge of the future, we're not just stepping into a theological classroom—we're stepping into real life. Into grief. Into confusion. Into decisions that matter. This isn’t about winning an argument. It’s about whether or not you can actually trust God with what’s ahead.
So that’s what we’re pressing into today. What does it mean that God knows the future? And more importantly, what does it mean for us?
What Scripture Says About God's Foreknowledge
Let's start where we should always start: the Bible. The Bible is remarkably clear about God's knowledge of the future. There’s some key passages that might just blow your mind.
Isaiah 46:9-10 - The Foundation Text
Here’s what it says:
“Remember the former things of old; for I am God, and there is no other;
I am God, and there is none like me,
declaring the end from the beginning
and from ancient times things not yet done,
saying, ‘My counsel shall stand,
and I will accomplish all my purpose.’”
That’s not vague. That’s not poetic guesswork. That is a divine declaration.
Let’s slow down and look at what God is actually claiming here.
He says, “I declare the end from the beginning.” Not “I can make accurate predictions,” or “I usually get it right,” but declare—Hebrew word nagad—to announce, to proclaim with authority. This is not God taking a lucky guess. This is God unveiling a future He already sees and commands.
And notice: He’s not just predicting events. He’s anchoring that knowledge in His own character—“I am God, and there is no other.” His ability to declare the future isn’t just something He does—it’s part of who He is.
But then comes the deeper layer: “My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose.” In other words, His knowledge of the future isn’t detached or observational. It’s purposeful. It's connected to what He’s actively doing.
This is a crucial point. God doesn’t know the future simply because He can see ahead like a spectator in the stands. He knows it because He’s the one carrying out the plan. His foreknowledge and His sovereignty are wrapped together. He declares what will happen, and He brings it about.
Theologian John Piper puts it bluntly:
“The reason God knows the future is because He plans the future and accomplishes it.”
That might sit heavy with you, or it might bring peace—but either way, we have to deal with it, because that’s what Scripture says. God isn’t peeking around the corner of time—He’s the one writing the story. And not just in broad themes, but in the details.
Now, that doesn’t mean we’re puppets or that we don’t make real choices—we’ll get into that tension. But before we try to explain how it works, we need to pause and let the weight of this passage sink in.
God declares the end from the beginning. He accomplishes all His purpose. And there is no one like Him.Genesis 50:20 - Evil Within God's Plan
Now, some of you are thinking, "Wait a minute, Austin. Are you saying God causes everything, including evil?" That's a great question, and Genesis 50:20 gives us a crucial piece of the puzzle.
Joseph’s brothers sold him into slavery, he was falsely accused and imprisoned, and his life seemed ruined. But at the end of the story, Joseph says this to his brothers:
"As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today."
This is mind-blowing. Joseph's brothers genuinely intended evil. They weren't puppets. They made real, wicked choices. But God, in His sovereignty, orchestrated even their evil intentions to accomplish His good purposes. The Hebrew here contrasts human intent with divine intent—same actions, completely different purposes.
This shows us that God's foreknowledge doesn't eliminate human responsibility. Joseph's brothers were still guilty of their sin. But it also shows us that nothing—not even human evil—catches God off guard or falls outside His ultimate plan.
Acts 2:23 - The Crucifixion
Now let’s zoom in on one of the clearest examples of God’s foreknowledge and sovereignty working together: the crucifixion of Jesus.
In Acts 2:23, Peter is standing in Jerusalem, preaching to a crowd just weeks after Jesus has been crucified and resurrected. And listen to what he says:
“This Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men.”
There’s a lot packed into that one verse.
Peter doesn’t water it down. He calls out the crowd directly: “You crucified Him. You killed Him.” The responsibility for Jesus’ death is laid right at their feet. Human guilt. Human choice. Human sin.
But at the exact same time, Peter says this all happened “according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God.” That phrase isn’t poetic filler. It’s precise theological language.
The Greek behind “definite plan” is βουλῇ (boulē), which means a deliberate, intentional decision—a settled purpose. Not a vague intention. Not a reactive move. This is a purposeful, preordained plan.
And then you have “foreknowledge”—πρόγνωσις (prognōsis). Yes, it means that God knew ahead of time. But in biblical usage, especially when it refers to God, foreknowledge often carries the idea of intentional relationship or choosing (more on that in Romans 8). So this isn’t just about foresight—it’s about foreordination.
In other words: the crucifixion wasn’t a tragedy that caught heaven off guard. It wasn’t Plan B. It wasn’t a divine emergency. It was the plan from the beginning.
And yet, the people involved weren’t puppets. Peter calls them “lawless men.” They made real, evil decisions. They acted out of hatred, fear, pride, and self-preservation. They’re responsible for what they did. And yet—without them knowing it—they were fulfilling God’s plan.
That is one of the clearest examples in the Bible of how God’s sovereignty and human responsibility work side by side. Not in contradiction, but in mystery.
And if God could weave the most horrific act in human history—the unjust execution of His own Son—into His redemptive plan, then He can do the same with whatever you’re walking through.
It doesn’t mean the pain isn’t real. It doesn’t mean evil isn’t evil. But it does mean this: Nothing, not even the darkest day in history, falls outside the reach of God's foreknowledge and sovereign purpose.
Romans 8:29-30 - Individual Foreknowledge
So far, we’ve looked at God’s knowledge of big events—history-shaping moments like the crucifixion. But God’s foreknowledge doesn’t stop at global plans or national movements. It’s personal. It reaches down to the level of individual people. Individual lives. Individual stories. Including yours.
Look at Romans 8:29–30:
“For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son,
in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.
And those whom he predestined he also called,
and those whom he called he also justified,
and those whom he justified he also glorified.”
This is often called the “golden chain” of salvation. Every link in that chain—foreknew, predestined, called, justified, glorified—is part of God's saving work. And it all starts with that word: foreknew.
Now, when we hear that word, we might think Paul simply means God had advanced knowledge. Like He looked down the corridor of time and saw who would believe in Him. But that’s not how the word is functioning here.
The Greek word is προγινώσκω (proginosko), which does mean “to know beforehand.” But we have to remember that in biblical language, especially in a Hebrew mindset, to “know” someone often implies relationship—not just awareness.
Let me give you an example. In Genesis 4:1, it says, “Adam knew Eve his wife, and she conceived.” That’s not just intellectual knowledge—it’s intimate, relational. Similarly, in Amos 3:2, God says to Israel, “You only have I known of all the families of the earth.” God obviously knew other nations existed. What He means is, “You’re the ones I chose. The ones I set My love on.”
So when Paul says in Romans 8 that God “foreknew” certain people, he’s not just saying God saw their future faith or behavior. He’s saying that before time began, God set His love on them. He knew them intimately, relationally, covenantally.
It’s not just foresight. It’s fore-love.
That’s why Paul can say with such confidence that those whom God foreknew—He also predestined. It’s the beginning of a process that God Himself carries all the way through. From before time began to the moment of glorification, God is the one doing the work.
And that should matter deeply to you—not just as theology, but as assurance.
If you belong to Jesus, it’s not because you found God first. It’s because He foreknew you. Before you had a name. Before you made a choice. Before you breathed your first breath—He knew you. He loved you. He had a plan for you.
And the best part? That plan doesn’t get derailed by your doubts, your failures, or your suffering. Why? Because God’s foreknowledge isn’t cold or mechanical—it’s personal and unwavering.
The Evidence of Fulfilled Prophecy
Now maybe you’re tracking so far, but still wondering: “Okay, theologically this makes sense—but how do we know God really knows the future? Like, can we actually see this in action?”
That’s a good question. Because anyone can claim to know the future. But what happens when that claim is tested?
Well, one of the clearest ways God validates His foreknowledge—and His sovereign plan—is through fulfilled prophecy.
The Bible doesn’t just contain predictions. It contains hundreds of specific prophecies, written centuries in advance, fulfilled in ways that are hard to explain apart from divine authorship. Let me walk you through just a few that center on Jesus:
Micah 5:2 — Born in Bethlehem
Micah wrote this around 700 BC. He says:
“But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah,
who are too little to be among the clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me
one who is to be ruler in Israel,
whose coming forth is from of old, from ancient days.”
Bethlehem was a small, seemingly insignificant town. But Micah names it clearly as the birthplace of the coming Messiah. And sure enough—centuries later, when Jesus is born, it’s not in Nazareth or Jerusalem. It’s Bethlehem. A detail Joseph and Mary didn’t orchestrate. It happened because of a Roman census—ordered by an emperor who had no idea he was fulfilling prophecy.
Isaiah 53 — The Suffering Servant
Also written around 700 BC, Isaiah 53 describes someone who would suffer on behalf of others, though he was innocent:
“He was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities...
the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.”
This chapter reads like a firsthand account of the crucifixion. But it was written centuries before crucifixion even existed as a form of execution. Jesus is pierced. He’s silent before His accusers. He dies among the wicked and is buried with the rich—all described in this one chapter, long before it happened.
Psalm 22 — Pierced Hands and Divided Garments
Psalm 22, written by David around 1000 BC, starts with the exact words Jesus cries from the cross: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
But it gets even more specific:
“They have pierced my hands and feet.”
“They divide my garments among them,
and for my clothing they cast lots.”
This isn’t poetic coincidence. These are crucifixion details—described centuries before Jesus is born and long before Romans ever used crosses.
Zechariah 9:9 — Entering Jerusalem on a Donkey
Written around 520 BC, Zechariah gives this unusual detail:
“Behold, your king is coming to you;
righteous and having salvation is he,
humble and mounted on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”
Fast forward to Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem—He rides in on a donkey, deliberately fulfilling this exact prophecy. He wasn’t trying to look poetic. He was showing that He was the King Zechariah saw hundreds of years earlier.
Now, these are just four examples. There are dozens more—many of them fulfilled in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. The odds of even a few of these happening by chance? Astronomically low. And yet they happened. In public. In history.
And here's the point: The Bible doesn't present these as coincidences. It presents them as proof.
Proof that God doesn’t guess. He doesn’t make predictions the way a weather app does. He declares the future because He already knows it—and He knows it because He’s planned it.
Fulfilled prophecy is God’s way of saying: “I told you ahead of time so that when it happened, you would know I’m the one behind it.”
It’s not just about facts lining up. It’s about showing us that this story—the story of redemption, the story of Christ—is not unfolding by chance. It’s moving exactly according to plan.
The Theological Landscape
Now, throughout church history, Christians have wrestled with how to understand God's foreknowledge, and several major positions have emerged. I want to walk you through the main ones, not because I want to confuse you, but because understanding these different perspectives will help you think more clearly about this issue.
Classical Theism (Augustinian/Calvinist View)
Let’s talk through the first major position on God’s foreknowledge: Classical Theism.
This view has deep roots. It’s been the dominant understanding among Christian thinkers for most of church history. You’ll find it in the writings of Augustine in the 4th century, refined by theologians like Thomas Aquinas in the 13th century, and carried forward by Reformers like John Calvin and many others. It’s not a fringe take—it’s foundational in how many Christians, across denominations, have understood God for centuries.
At the heart of Classical Theism is this key idea: God is eternal.
Now, when we say eternal, we don’t just mean God lives forever or has no beginning and no end—though both are true. Classical theism goes further. It says that God exists outside of time entirely. He’s not bound by past, present, or future. He’s not sitting at one point in time waiting to see what happens next.
Think of it this way: imagine time as a line. You and I are moving along that line—moment by moment, one day at a time. But God isn’t moving along the line. He’s above it. He sees the whole thing—beginning, middle, end—all at once.
So when God knows the future, it’s not because He’s looking forward with really good foresight. It’s because He’s present to all of it—past, present, future—simultaneously. Nothing ever “sneaks up” on Him.
Now, here's where it connects to foreknowledge: in this view, God’s knowledge of the future is exhaustive and certain, not because He’s watching from a distance, but because He’s sovereignly planned and ordained everything that happens.
This doesn’t mean God is the author of evil or that people are just puppets. Classical theism doesn’t deny human choice. But it does teach that our choices—real, responsible, meaningful choices—still unfold inside a broader plan that God has known and purposed from all eternity.
So when Scripture talks about God’s “foreknowledge,” especially in salvation, it often carries more than just the idea that God “knew in advance.” In many places, especially Romans 8:29, that word foreknowledge (we looked at this earlier) points to God’s intentional love—His choice to set His affection on certain people before time began.
In this framework, prayer fits beautifully. Prayer isn’t about giving God information or persuading Him to change course. It’s about relationship. And it’s about participating in what God has already planned.
Here’s how Classical theism views it: God ordains not just the ends, but the means. He plans both the result and the way that result comes about—including the prayers that lead to the answer. So when you pray, you’re not stepping outside of God’s plan—you’re stepping into it.
This view emphasizes God’s sovereignty in a way that offers security. It says: Nothing is random. Nothing is out of control. And when you bring your prayers, your questions, your decisions to God—you’re talking to the One who’s already holding the whole timeline in His hand.
Arminian View
The second major view we need to look at is called the Arminian view, named after a 17th-century Dutch theologian named Jacob Arminius. His teachings were a response to certain Calvinist ideas, and they’ve become the foundation for much of what you’ll hear in Wesleyan, Methodist, and many evangelical churches today.
At its core, this view is trying to hold two truths in tension: God knows everything and human freedom is real. Arminians affirm that God is omniscient—He knows the future completely and perfectly. But they also want to emphasize that people make real, meaningful, unforced choices.
So how do they put that together?
Here’s how it works: Arminians believe that God’s foreknowledge comes before His predestination, at least logically. In other words, God doesn’t arbitrarily choose who will be saved and who won’t. Instead, He looks ahead—He sees who, in their freedom, will respond to His offer of grace and believe in Christ. And based on that foreseen faith, He chooses or "elects" them.
You could think of it like this: God watches the full movie of your life before it happens. He knows how the story ends. But just because He knows what you’ll do doesn’t mean He caused you to do it.
A simple analogy: if you watch a football game that’s already been played, and you know your team wins, your knowledge doesn’t change what happened on the field. You’re not making the players score touchdowns just by knowing they will. You’re just seeing it in advance. That’s how Arminians explain God’s relationship to the future—He knows it all, but He doesn’t override our choices to make it happen.
Now, this view really leans into the idea that human freedom matters. When God calls someone to salvation, Arminians believe that person has a real ability to say yes or no. Grace is absolutely necessary—nobody comes to God without His initiative. But grace, in this view, is resistible. People can push back. They can walk away.
So what does this mean for prayer?
Well, Arminians say our prayers are still incredibly significant. Yes, God already knows what we’ll pray. Yes, He already knows how He’ll answer. But prayer is still a real conversation between us and God. It’s not theater. It’s not pretense. It’s interaction.
And in this view, God genuinely responds. Within His sovereign plan, He leaves space for real interaction with His people. Our prayers don’t just reflect His will—they can actually affect outcomes. Prayer can be a vehicle for change—not because we’re changing God’s mind, but because He’s chosen to work in relationship with us.
So if you’re coming from an Arminian background, this view might feel like the most intuitive one. It lets you hold onto both divine omniscience and meaningful choice. It says: “Yes, God knows the future. But you still have a say in how your life unfolds. And your prayers still move the heart of God.”
Molinism (Middle Knowledge)
The third major position we need to talk about is Molinism, named after Luis de Molina, a 16th-century Spanish Jesuit theologian. While it didn’t gain wide traction immediately, it’s gained significant attention in recent decades—especially among Christian philosophers and apologists like William Lane Craig. If you’ve spent time in conversations about faith, reason, or apologetics, you’ve probably bumped into Molinist thinking, even if you didn’t realize it.
So what is Molinism all about?
At the center of this view is something called middle knowledge—a concept that tries to bring together two things many people find hard to reconcile: God’s sovereignty and genuine human freedom.
Let’s break that down.
Molinists believe that before God created the world, He had three types of knowledge:
Natural knowledge — what is necessarily true (e.g., 2 + 2 = 4, God is holy).
Free knowledge — what will actually happen in the world God chooses to create.
And right in between those two is what Molina called middle knowledge — God’s knowledge of what would happen in any possible situation, with any possible person, under any possible set of circumstances.
This is what makes Molinism unique.
According to this view, God knows all hypothetical situations and how every free creature would freely choose to act in each one. Not just what will happen, but what could happen, and what would happen if the circumstances were slightly different.
So, imagine this: God knows that if Peter is put in situation A, he will freely deny Jesus three times. But if Peter is put in situation B—maybe a different time or place—he might not. He might stand firm.
What does God do with that knowledge?
Before creating the world, God surveys all these possible worlds, all these combinations of circumstances and choices, and chooses to actualize the one that best fulfills His purposes. That’s the world we live in. It’s not random. It’s not just “the best guess.” It’s the one God selected, knowing exactly how every choice would play out.
So when Jesus tells Peter, “You’re going to deny me three times before the rooster crows,” He’s not overriding Peter’s will. He’s not making him do it. He’s simply referencing what He already knew Peter would freely choose in that particular scenario—the one God chose to bring about for His larger plan.
Here’s the takeaway from Molinism: God’s plan is certain because He chose the world in which it unfolds, but human freedom is preserved because the choices made in that world are genuinely free. God doesn’t force the outcomes; He chooses the world in which they freely occur.
Molinists see this as the best of both worlds. God is fully sovereign—nothing surprises Him, and His purposes are accomplished. But at the same time, human decisions are not predetermined in a robotic sense. People retain real responsibility and freedom.
Now, whether you fully buy into Molinism or not, it does provide an intriguing framework for understanding how God could exhaustively know the future while still allowing for genuine freedom and moral responsibility.
And for many people, that framework helps make sense of difficult questions—like why God allows evil, how prayer can influence outcomes, or how we can be truly free if God’s plan is fixed.
It’s not without critics, and we’ll get into that in a bit. But for now, what you need to know is this: Molinism holds that God foreknows everything not only because He sees it, but because He selected it—knowing precisely how free creatures would respond in every possible circumstance.
Open Theism
The fourth major view on God’s foreknowledge—and the most debated—is called Open Theism. This one’s much more recent compared to the other three. It started gaining traction in the late 20th century, with thinkers like Gregory Boyd, John Sanders, and Clark Pinnock leading the charge.
Now, right up front: Open Theism is controversial. It’s been critiqued heavily by many within evangelical circles, especially those who hold tightly to God’s classical attributes—like immutability (that God doesn’t change) and omniscience (that God knows everything). But it’s worth understanding what this view is actually saying before writing it off.
Here’s the central idea of Open Theism:
God knows everything that can be known. But the future free decisions of human beings don’t exist yet—so they aren’t knowable.
Let that sink in. In this view, God knows all the past. He knows all the present. He even knows every possible future scenario—every option, every variable, every outcome that could happen. But He doesn’t know with certainty what will happen when it comes to the free choices of people.
In other words, the future is “open.” Not because God lacks power or intelligence, but because human freedom is so real, so uncoerced, that even God can’t know for sure what someone will freely choose before they choose it.
Now, why would anyone argue for this?
Open Theists are trying to take seriously the biblical language that suggests God changes His mind, expresses regret, or reacts to human choices. Think about moments like:
Genesis 6:6 – “The LORD regretted that he had made man on the earth.”
Exodus 32 – where God appears ready to destroy Israel, and Moses pleads with Him to relent... and God does.
Jonah 3:10 – “God saw what they did... and God relented of the disaster that he had said he would do to them.”
Open Theists look at these and say, “If we take these texts at face value, it sounds like God is actually responding in real time to what people do—not just acting out a script He already wrote.”
From this perspective, prayer becomes incredibly dynamic. You're not praying to a God who already decided everything in eternity past. You're praying to a God who listens, considers, and can adjust course in relationship with His people.
That makes prayer feel very immediate. Very alive. You're not submitting to an immovable plan—you’re partnering with God in shaping the future.
Of course, this view comes with major theological challenges.
Most conservative theologians push back hard against Open Theism because it appears to deny one of God's core attributes: His omniscience. If God doesn’t know the future completely and certainly, is He still all-knowing? And if the future is up for grabs, how can we trust in His promises? How do we make sense of prophecy? Of Christ’s death being “foreknown before the foundation of the world” (1 Peter 1:20)?
Critics also argue that Open Theism makes God look vulnerable, reactive, and—at times—uninformed. That’s a serious concern when you're talking about the Creator of the universe.
But here’s what you need to understand: Open Theism isn’t trying to attack God’s character. Its advocates are trying to make sense of how a relational God interacts with genuinely free creatures in a real, unfolding story. They want to preserve the idea that our choices actually matter, not just as means to an already-determined end, but as real contributions to a history that’s still being written.
Whether or not you find that compelling, Open Theism forces us to wrestle with important questions:
What does it mean for God to be “all-knowing”?
How do we read Scripture’s descriptions of God’s emotions and reactions?
Can we hold onto both divine sovereignty and real human agency?
Those are good questions to ask. But most within historic Christian orthodoxy conclude that Open Theism goes too far, sacrificing too much of God’s revealed nature in order to preserve human freedom.
Wrestling with the Mysteries
Now, I didn’t walk us through all of these views—Classical Theism, Arminianism, Molinism, and Open Theism—just to turn this into a theology class. That’s not the goal here. I walked us through them because I want you to see something really important:
Godly, Bible-believing Christians have wrestled with these questions for centuries.
And they’ve landed in different places on the finer points. Not because they don’t love Scripture. Not because they’re trying to get around difficult truths. But because these are deep waters. We’re talking about the very nature of God, the fabric of time, the mechanics of human choice. These aren’t lightweight topics.
But here’s the thing—all orthodox Christians, across these different camps, agree on some critical truths. These are the essentials we can stand on together:
God’s knowledge is perfect and complete. He knows all things—He’s not guessing, reacting, or catching up.
Nothing surprises Him. There’s never a moment where God has to say, “Well, I didn’t see that coming.”
God is actively accomplishing His purposes in history. He’s not a passive observer; He’s the author who’s bringing His story to completion.
Human choices are real. We are not puppets. The Bible consistently calls us to make decisions and holds us responsible for those decisions.
Prayer matters. Even if we understand it differently, we all believe that God hears, cares, and responds to the prayers of His people.
The differences come down to how these truths fit together. How does God’s sovereignty relate to human freedom? How does foreknowledge connect to predestination? How do our prayers fit into God’s eternal plan?
And here’s where I want to say something that may be freeing for you: There’s mystery in this.
We can go deep—and we should. But at the end of the day, we are finite creatures trying to understand an infinite God. There are things about how God’s mind and will work that are beyond us. And that’s okay. That’s part of being human and part of worshiping a God who is far greater than we can fully grasp.
But that doesn’t mean we throw up our hands and give up. Scripture gives us clarity on the things we need to know. And after studying, praying, and reflecting on God’s Word, I do think it’s possible to land somewhere with conviction—even if we do so with humility.
So let me tell you where I land, and why I believe Scripture points us in that direction.
Where I Stand and Why
After spending a lot of time wrestling with Scripture and studying the various positions we’ve talked about, I’ve come to the conviction that the Classical view—what’s sometimes called the Augustinian or Calvinist perspective—best reflects what the Bible teaches about God’s foreknowledge.
And listen, I say that with humility. I don’t think every question gets tied up neatly in a bow. But I do think this view is the most faithful to what we see in Scripture when it comes to God’s nature, His knowledge, and His sovereign plan.
So let me walk you through why I land here.
1. Scripture Clearly Teaches That God’s Foreknowledge Is Exhaustive
Let’s just start with what the text says. The Bible doesn’t give us a God who’s mostly sure about the future. It gives us a God who declares it.
Isaiah 46:10 is the banner verse:
“I declare the end from the beginning, and from ancient times things not yet done.”
That’s not just God making predictions. That’s God revealing a future He knows fully—and is actively bringing about. This isn’t a God who’s watching history like we watch the weather—hoping the forecast is right. This is a God who ordains the future.
Or take Acts 2:23. Peter says Jesus was
“delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God.”
Not vague awareness. Not general direction. A definite plan. The Greek word there—boule—means deliberate purpose. Peter doesn’t say, “Well, God saw it coming.” He says God planned it.
And let’s not forget Jesus’ words to Peter:
“Before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times” (Matthew 26:34).
That wasn’t a guess. It wasn’t even a response to Peter’s personality profile. Jesus knew exactly what Peter would do, when he’d do it, and how it would unfold. And it happened precisely that way.
2. God’s Knowledge Is Tied to His Sovereign Plan
Here’s something we can’t ignore: God doesn’t just know what’s going to happen—He has purpose behind it. In Isaiah 46:10, He says:
“My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose.”
In other words, His knowledge isn’t passive. He isn’t just looking down the corridors of time to see what humans will do. His knowledge is inseparable from His will. What He knows, He also intends.
Now, does that mean God causes every detail directly? No. Scripture never paints God as the author of evil. But it does show us that nothing happens outside His sovereign permission. Everything falls under His control—even when human choices are freely made.
So while God may not directly cause every choice, nothing surprises Him, and nothing disrupts His plan.
3. The Alternative Views Raise Real Challenges
Let’s be honest. Each of the other views tries to solve a tension, but they end up creating new ones.
The Arminian view wants to protect human freedom—and I get that. But if God knows the future perfectly, and your decisions are already known, how are they genuinely free in the way Arminianism claims? There’s a tension there that’s tough to resolve without making God a passive observer of history.
Molinism is a creative model. It says God knows what every person would freely do in any possible situation (that’s called “middle knowledge”), and He chooses the world where those choices align with His purposes. But here’s the issue: that system leans heavily on a philosophical idea that isn’t clearly taught in Scripture. There’s no biblical passage that lays out “middle knowledge” the way Molinists describe it. And it assumes those hypothetical choices—“if I were in that situation, I would freely do X”—are real, stable truths that God can know. That’s a big philosophical leap.
Open Theism goes the farthest in trying to preserve human freedom, but at a serious cost. If God doesn’t fully know the future, how can He guarantee His promises? How can He give prophecy? How can we trust that He’s really in control of anything beyond the moment? Open Theism might make God seem more relational, but it also risks making Him less God—at least as Scripture defines Him.
4. This View Best Explains the Christian Life
Finally, I believe the Classical view best aligns with how we actually experience life as believers.
Think about it: when you look back on your life, can’t you see how God has been weaving things together? How certain conversations, events, hardships—even your own failures—played a part in bringing you to where you are?
That’s Romans 8:28 in action:
“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good…”
Not some things. Not just the good things. All things.
And that doesn’t happen because God is really smart and quick on His feet. It happens because He’s been orchestrating your story—your story—from the beginning, with full knowledge and full purpose.
It means that nothing in your life is random. No detour, no heartbreak, no delay. Every thread is part of a bigger plan—crafted by a God who not only sees the end from the beginning, but who loves you and has already factored in your every decision, your every prayer, your every step.
That doesn’t make you a robot. It makes your life part of a much bigger, much more certain story.
Addressing the Hard Questions
Now, I know some of you are thinking, "Austin, if God knows everything and plans everything, then what about evil? What about suffering? What about my choices? Do they even matter?"
These are crucial questions, and we need to address them head-on.
The Problem of Evil
If God foreknows and even plans everything, why does He allow evil and suffering?
This is probably the most difficult question in all of theology, and I'm not going to pretend to have easy answers. But Scripture gives us some important truths to hold onto:
First, God is not the author of sin. James 1:13 is clear: "Let no one say when he is tempted, 'I am being tempted by God,' for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one." Evil comes from human rebellion and the corruption of creation, not from God's character.
Second, God can work through evil to accomplish good. We see this throughout Scripture. Joseph's brothers acted wickedly, but God used their evil for the preservation of many lives. The crucifixion was the greatest evil ever committed, but God used it to accomplish the greatest good—our salvation.
Third, God's ultimate purpose is good. Romans 8:28 promises that "for those who love God all things work together for good." This doesn't mean everything that happens is good in itself, but that God weaves even the bad things into His good purposes.
Fourth, we don't see the whole picture. From our limited perspective, much of life seems random or meaningless. But God sees the beginning and the end. He sees how every thread weaves into the tapestry of His perfect plan.
The Question of Human Responsibility
"If God already knows what I'll choose, are my choices really free? Am I responsible for my actions?"
This question has puzzled theologians for centuries, and there's genuine mystery here. But Scripture is clear on both sides:
God is completely sovereign. Acts 2:23, Romans 8:29-30, Ephesians 1:11—these passages teach that God works all things according to His will.
Humans are genuinely responsible. The same passage that says Jesus was delivered up according to God's plan (Acts 2:23) also holds the crucifiers responsible for their wicked act. Scripture repeatedly commands us to choose, warns us of consequences, and holds us accountable for our decisions.
How do these truths fit together? Honestly, I don't fully understand. But I know that Scripture teaches both, so both must be true.
Here's what I do know: You experience your choices as real and meaningful because they are real and meaningful. When you choose to follow Christ, that choice matters. When you choose to sin, you're responsible. When you choose to obey, God is pleased.
The fact that God foreknows your choices doesn't make them less real—it makes them part of His eternal plan.
The Meaning of Prayer
"If God already knows everything and has planned everything, why should I pray?"
This is such an important question because it touches the heart of our relationship with God.
Here's the key: God's foreknowledge includes both the end and the means. He doesn't just know that someone will be healed; He knows that they'll be healed in response to prayer. He doesn't just ordain the outcome; He ordains the process.
Prayer isn't about informing God or changing His mind. Prayer is about aligning our hearts with His will and participating in His work. When we pray, we're not working against God's sovereignty—we're cooperating with it.
Think about it this way: A parent might know their child is going to ask for help with homework, and the parent might already plan to help. But the asking is still important—it's part of the relationship, part of the child learning dependence and gratitude.
Jesus knew His Father's will perfectly, yet He prayed constantly. Why? Because prayer wasn't about getting information to the Father; it was about communion with the Father.
When we pray, we're not trying to twist God's arm or convince Him of something. We're entering into the relationship He has planned for us, expressing our dependence on Him, and participating in His work in the world.
God's Relationship to Time
Now, let me touch on one more crucial aspect of this discussion: God's relationship to time.
Classical theism teaches that God is eternal—not in the sense of lasting a really long time, but in the sense of existing outside of time altogether. From this perspective, God doesn't have foreknowledge in the sense of knowing something before it happens. Instead, all of time is equally present to Him.
Think of it this way: If you're looking at a parade from street level, you can only see the part that's passing by you at the moment. But if you're looking at the same parade from a helicopter, you can see the whole route at once—the beginning, the middle, and the end.
That's a crude analogy, but it helps us understand how God might know the future. He's not guessing about what will happen next; He sees the whole timeline of history from His eternal perspective.
This has profound implications. It means God doesn't learn new information as history unfolds. It means He doesn't have to wait to see how things turn out. It means His knowledge is complete and unchanging.
Some theologians prefer to think of God as everlasting rather than timeless—existing in time but without beginning or end. But either way, God's knowledge of the future is perfect and complete.
Practical Implications for Believers
Alright, let's get practical. How should the doctrine of God's foreknowledge change how you live?
Trust in God's Plan
First, it should give you unshakeable confidence in God's plan. When you're facing uncertainty, when you don't know what tomorrow holds, you can rest in the fact that God knows perfectly and has everything under control.
Romans 8:28 isn't just a nice sentiment—it's a theological truth grounded in God's omniscience. Because God knows and ordains all things, you can be confident that He really is working everything together for your good.
This doesn't mean everything that happens to you is good in itself. It means that God, in His perfect knowledge and wisdom, is weaving even the difficult things into a good purpose.
When Joseph was sitting in that Egyptian prison, falsely accused and seemingly forgotten, he had no idea that God was positioning him to save nations from famine. But God knew. God had known from the beginning exactly how Joseph's story would unfold.
Your story is no different. God knows every chapter, every plot twist, every seeming tragedy that will turn into triumph. You can trust Him completely.
Pray with Confidence
Second, God's foreknowledge should make you pray with greater confidence, not less.
You're not praying to a God who might or might not be able to help. You're praying to a God who already knows your need, already knows the perfect solution, and has already planned how He wants to respond.
This should make you bold in prayer. Jeremiah 33:3 says, "Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known." God invites you to pray precisely because He knows how He wants to answer.
But it should also make you humble in prayer. You're not trying to convince God of anything or give Him information He lacks. You're submitting to His perfect will and wisdom.
When Jesus taught us to pray "Your will be done," He wasn't teaching resignation. He was teaching confident submission to a God whose will is perfect because His knowledge is perfect.
Make Decisions in Faith
Third, God's foreknowledge should give you freedom and wisdom in decision-making.
On one hand, it should free you from the crushing weight of thinking everything depends on you. Yes, your choices matter. Yes, you should seek wisdom and counsel. But ultimately, you can rest in the fact that God knows the outcome and will accomplish His purposes through your faithful decisions.
On the other hand, it should motivate you to seek God's revealed will in Scripture and make decisions that honor Him. The fact that God knows what you'll choose doesn't make your choices meaningless—it makes them part of His eternal plan.
You should pray about decisions, seek wise counsel, and then act in faith, knowing that God will direct your steps as you trust in Him (Proverbs 3:5-6).
Hope in Suffering
Finally, God's foreknowledge should give you hope in the midst of suffering.
When you're walking through trials, when life seems to have gone sideways, when you can't see any purpose in your pain, you can hold onto the fact that God sees the end from the beginning.
He's not scrambling to figure out how to fix your situation. He's not surprised by what you're facing. He hasn't lost control of your story.
In fact, if God foreknows all things, then your suffering isn't random—it's purposeful. That doesn't make it easy, but it does make it meaningful.
Paul could say in Romans 8:18, "I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us." How could he say that? Because he was convinced that God, who knows the end from the beginning, had a good purpose for both the suffering and the glory.
Living with Mystery
Now, before I wrap up, I want to acknowledge something: There's mystery here that we need to be comfortable with.
We're finite creatures trying to understand the infinite God. We're temporal beings trying to grasp eternal truths. There are aspects of God's foreknowledge and sovereignty that we simply can't fully comprehend with our limited minds.
And that's okay. In fact, it's more than okay—it's appropriate. If we could figure God out completely, He wouldn't be God.
Deuteronomy 29:29 says, "The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law."
God has revealed enough for us to trust Him completely. He has revealed enough for us to live faithfully. But He hasn't revealed everything, and we need to be humble about the limits of our understanding.
This means we can hold firmly to what Scripture clearly teaches about God's foreknowledge while being gracious toward other believers who might understand the details differently.
What matters most is not that we solve every theological puzzle, but that we trust the God who holds the future in His hands.
The Ultimate Ground of Hope
As we conclude, I want to bring this all back to the gospel, because that's where God's foreknowledge becomes most precious to us.
The Bible teaches that God's foreknowledge extends to His people in a special way. Romans 8:29 says, "For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son."
This means that if you're a believer in Jesus Christ, God's knowledge of you isn't just intellectual—it's intimate and personal. Before the foundation of the world, He set His love upon you. He foresaw every sin you would commit, every failure you would experience, every doubt you would wrestle with—and He chose to love you anyway.
Your salvation isn't dependent on God's ability to adapt to changing circumstances. It's grounded in His eternal knowledge and unchanging love.
Jesus said in John 10:27-29, "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father's hand."
Notice that Jesus connects His knowledge of His sheep with their eternal security. Because He knows them perfectly—past, present, and future—He can guarantee their preservation.
This is the ultimate comfort of God's foreknowledge. Your relationship with God isn't subject to the uncertainties of time. It's grounded in the eternal knowledge and love of the One who declares the end from the beginning.
A Final Word
We've covered a lot of ground today, and I know some of you might be feeling a bit overwhelmed. That's normal when we're dealing with things this profound.
But I want to leave you with this simple truth: The God who knows the future is the God who loves you. The God who plans all things is the God who gave His Son for you. The God who declares the end from the beginning is the God who has written your name in the book of life.
You don't have to understand all the theological details to trust Him completely. You don't have to resolve all the mysteries to rest in His perfect knowledge and perfect love.
What you can do is live with confidence, knowing that your life is in the hands of the One who knows exactly how your story ends—and it ends with you safe in His presence forever.
So pray with boldness, make decisions in faith, endure suffering with hope, and trust completely in the God who holds tomorrow in His hands.
Next week, we're going to tackle another difficult question: "Does God repent?" It's a question that touches on God's immutability and how we understand certain passages in Scripture. You won't want to miss it.
If today's episode has been helpful to you, would you take a moment to like this video and subscribe to the channel? It helps us reach more people with these important truths. And if you have questions or thoughts about today's topic, leave them in the comments below. I try to read every single one.
Until next time, keep digging deeper into God's Word, and remember—every question you have matters to Him.
