Knowing the God Who Cannot Be Reduced to One Experience

“I AM WHO I AM.”
— Exodus 3:14

One of the dangers of walking with God for a long time is that we can become familiar with one experience of Him and unconsciously assume that we now understand Him.

We encounter God as Provider, and begin to think primarily of provision.

We encounter Him as Healer, and healing becomes central to our understanding of Him.

We experience His discipline, and perhaps begin to see Him primarily as Judge.

Someone else encounters His mercy and knows Him deeply as Father.

Another meets Him in warfare and understands Him as the Lord of Hosts.

Another experiences Him in silence.

Another encounters Him in deliverance.

Another through suffering.

Another through abundance.

These experiences may all reveal something true about God.

But none of them, by themselves, contain Him.

God is greater than the dimension through which I first encountered Him.

And perhaps part of spiritual maturity is allowing God to continually enlarge our understanding of who He is.

“I AM”

When Moses asked God what he should tell Israel when they asked for the name of the God who had sent him, God's answer was remarkable:

“I AM WHO I AM.”
— Exodus 3:14

God does not introduce Himself by reference to something greater than Himself.

He simply is.

He is not defined by His usefulness to humanity.

He does not become Provider only when I need provision.

He does not become Healer because I become sick.

He does not become Deliverer when I encounter bondage.

Those experiences reveal realities that were already true about Him.

God existed before my need.

His character does not emerge from my circumstances.

My circumstances merely create occasions in which I discover something about the God who was already there.

That distinction matters.

Otherwise, it becomes very easy to build a theology in which God exists primarily in relation to what He does for me.

But Scripture invites us into something much deeper:

to know God Himself.

Jesus describes eternal life in these terms:

“That they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent.”
— John 17:3

Eternal life is therefore not presented merely as endless existence.

At its heart is knowledge of God.

We Can Know God Truly Without Knowing Him Exhaustively

There is an important tension here.

God has revealed Himself.

Therefore He can genuinely be known.

But God is infinite.

Therefore He cannot be exhausted by human knowledge.

We can know Him truly without knowing Him completely.

That distinction protects us from two opposite errors.

The first says:

“God is mysterious, therefore we cannot really know Him.”

Scripture rejects that.

God has spoken.

God has acted.

God has entered history.

God has revealed Himself in Christ.

But the opposite mistake says:

“I know God, therefore the way I currently understand Him is the entirety of who He is.”

Scripture rejects that too.

Paul writes:

“Oh, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God!”
— Romans 11:33

There will always be more depth in God than our present understanding has reached.

This means that spiritual growth should continually produce humility.

The more I genuinely know God, the less likely I should be to imagine that I have reduced Him to a formula.

One God, Many Attributes

When I describe God as multi-dimensional, I do not mean that God changes personalities.

Nor do I mean that there are competing versions of Him.

I mean that the one God possesses a fullness of character that cannot be described adequately by one attribute.

God is holy.

God is loving.

God is just.

God is merciful.

God is sovereign.

God is patient.

God is powerful.

God is wise.

God is faithful.

God is gracious.

God is righteous.

None of these attributes cancels the others.

His mercy does not require Him to become less just.

His justice does not make Him less loving.

His sovereignty does not make Him less compassionate.

His patience does not mean He lacks power.

We often struggle because human beings frequently possess qualities unevenly.

A powerful person may lack tenderness.

A compassionate person may struggle to exercise judgment.

A patient person may simply be unable to act.

But God is not fragmented in this way.

Everything God is, He is perfectly.

Our difficulty is that we encounter those realities from different angles.

Abraham Knew the God Who Provides

In Genesis 22, Abraham enters one of the most disturbing tests of his life.

God had given him Isaac.

Isaac represented promise, future and inheritance.

Yet Abraham was brought into a situation in which obedience appeared to threaten the very promise God had made.

Then God provided a ram.

Abraham called the place:

The LORD Will Provide.

He had not merely learned a doctrine about provision.

He had encountered God as Provider.

There is a difference.

You can know that God provides because someone taught you Genesis 22.

Abraham knew something about divine provision because he had stood on that mountain.

Knowledge had become encounter.

This pattern occurs repeatedly throughout Scripture.

People encounter God in circumstances that reveal something about His character, and sometimes the revelation becomes associated with a name or memorial.

Their circumstances did not create that dimension of God.

Their circumstances revealed it.

Moses Encountered Another Dimension

Moses' knowledge of God expanded repeatedly.

At the burning bush, he encountered the God who calls.

In Egypt, the God who judges oppressive powers.

At the Red Sea, the God who delivers.

In the wilderness, the God who provides.

At Sinai, the God who is holy.

After Israel's rebellion, Moses encountered the God who is merciful and gracious, patient and abundant in covenant faithfulness.

It is the same God.

But Moses' understanding of Him becomes progressively richer.

This suggests something important:

Walking with God should increase the dimensions of His character that we understand.

If after decades of Christianity I know only the God who gives me things, my knowledge remains painfully small.

If I know Him only as the God who forgives, but not the God who transforms, something is missing.

If I know His power but not His holiness, my theology becomes distorted.

If I know His commands but not His love, something is distorted again.

Maturity requires an increasingly integrated knowledge of God.

Elijah Discovered That God Cannot Be Reduced to Spectacle

Elijah's experience in 1 Kings 19 is particularly striking.

He had already encountered the dramatic power of God.

On Mount Carmel, fire fell from heaven.

If Elijah formed his entire theology from that experience, he might reasonably conclude:

When God appears, expect fire.

But later Elijah encounters wind.

God is not in the wind.

Then an earthquake.

God is not in the earthquake.

Then fire.

Again, God is not in the fire.

Then comes what Scripture describes as a low whisper or gentle sound.

God was teaching His prophet something.

The God who answers by fire cannot be reduced to fire.

This principle is incredibly important.

Yesterday's genuine encounter with God can become tomorrow's limitation if I decide that God must always work in the same way.

God may have rescued me dramatically once.

That does not mean every rescue will be dramatic.

God may have spoken through unusual circumstances before.

That does not mean every coincidence is now revelation.

God may have provided suddenly.

That does not mean waiting indicates His absence.

God may have opened one door.

That does not mean every open door came from Him.

We must know God, not merely memorise His previous methods.

The Supreme Revelation of God Is Jesus Christ

This is where Christian knowledge of God becomes centred.

We are not left merely collecting experiences and assigning names to God.

God has revealed Himself decisively in Jesus Christ.

Philip once said to Jesus:

“Lord, show us the Father.”

Jesus' response was extraordinary:

“He who has seen Me has seen the Father.”
— John 14:9

If I want to know what God is like, I must look at Christ.

His compassion reveals God.

His holiness reveals God.

His anger at hypocrisy reveals God.

His tenderness toward broken people reveals God.

His authority reveals God.

His willingness to serve reveals God.

His response to enemies reveals God.

His cross reveals God.

His resurrection reveals God.

This means personal spiritual experiences must never become our highest authority for defining God.

Experience matters.

But experience must be interpreted through revelation.

And for the Christian, God's revelation reaches its centre in Jesus.

Knowing About God and Knowing God

This raises another difficult question.

Is studying Scripture the same thing as knowing God?

Not automatically.

It is possible to accumulate information about someone without having a relationship with them.

Jesus confronted religious leaders who knew Scripture extensively yet failed to recognise the One to whom Scripture pointed.

But the opposite error is equally dangerous:

claiming to know God while neglecting what He has revealed about Himself.

Relationship and revelation belong together.

I learn God's character through Scripture.

I encounter Him through prayer.

I recognise His faithfulness through experience.

I obey Him.

I am corrected by Him.

I worship Him.

I suffer while trusting Him.

I watch His Word prove reliable across different seasons of life.

Over time, theology stops being merely a collection of propositions.

It becomes the vocabulary through which I recognise Someone I have been walking with.

This Changes How We Understand God's Leading

This has become increasingly important to me.

I have often wanted to know:

What is God telling me to do?

But perhaps an equally important question comes before it:

How well do I know the God whose leading I am trying to recognise?

Jesus said:

“My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me.”
— John 10:27

The image is relational.

A sheep recognises the shepherd because familiarity has developed.

And perhaps this is one reason knowledge of God's character matters so much.

Suppose a thought enters my mind.

How do I know whether it reflects God's leading, my fear, my ambition, my desires or simply my imagination?

A thought that contradicts God's revealed character cannot be legitimised merely because it feels spiritual.

The deeper my knowledge of God becomes, the more material I possess with which to test what I perceive.

Knowing God therefore becomes foundational to discernment.

Sometimes We Know the Gift Better Than the Giver

There is another danger.

God may reveal Himself through provision, and eventually we become attached to the provision.

God gives Abraham Isaac.

But Genesis 22 eventually confronts Abraham with the question:

Do you trust the God of the promise, or have you transferred your trust to the promise itself?

God can give us something legitimately.

And that legitimate gift can gradually occupy a place in our hearts that belongs only to Him.

A career.

Money.

A ministry.

A relationship.

A reputation.

An opportunity.

Even a particular understanding of our future.

None of these must begin as idols.

Sometimes they begin as gifts.

The problem arises when our confidence migrates from the Giver to the gift.

That is why knowing God's attributes is not merely an intellectual exercise.

It affects what we are capable of releasing.

If I genuinely know God as Provider, I become less terrified when one channel of provision disappears.

If I know Him as Father, rejection does not have the final word over my identity.

If I know Him as Shepherd, uncertainty about direction becomes less frightening.

If I know Him as sovereign, circumstances do not have to make sense immediately before I trust Him.

If I know Him as holy, I become less willing to justify compromise simply because compromise would make life easier.

The dimension of God that I truly know changes the way I live.

Daniel: Knowing God Produces Strength

Daniel 11:32 contains a remarkable statement:

“The people who know their God shall be strong, and carry out great exploits.”

The strength described here is connected to knowledge of God.

That makes sense.

Consider two people facing the same uncertainty.

One knows theoretically that “God is faithful.”

The other has learned God's faithfulness through Scripture, obedience, previous trials and years of walking with Him.

Their circumstances may be identical.

Their internal worlds may be completely different.

Knowledge of God produces a different kind of stability.

Not because the knowledgeable believer knows what will happen next.

But because they increasingly know Who will still be God when it happens.

That is deeper security.

We Should Learn From Those Who Knew Him Before Us

We do not begin our discovery of God from zero.

Scripture gives us thousands of years of testimony.

Abraham discovered things about God.

Moses did.

David did.

Elijah did.

Isaiah did.

Jeremiah did.

Peter did.

Paul did.

The Church across generations has continued reflecting on the character of God revealed in Scripture.

It would be strange to ignore all of this and say:

“I want to discover God entirely for myself.”

There is wisdom in learning from those who walked before us.

Their discoveries can become our starting points.

But they cannot replace personal relationship.

I can read David's declaration that the LORD is his shepherd.

But eventually I must learn what it means for the LORD to shepherd me.

I can read Abraham's discovery that God provides.

But eventually life will place me somewhere where I must decide whether I actually believe God is my provider.

Borrowed knowledge introduces us.

Walking with God deepens the knowledge.

We Must Also Allow God to Correct Our Picture of Him

Perhaps one of the most uncomfortable parts of knowing God is discovering that some things we believed about Him were actually projections.

Some people imagine a God who resembles an angry parent.

Others imagine a God who never confronts anything.

Some imagine God primarily as the solution to problems.

Others relate to Him almost exclusively as a distant King.

Our experiences, upbringing, church traditions, disappointments, personalities and fears can all influence the picture we construct.

This makes Scripture indispensable.

I do not merely read Scripture to collect promises.

I read it partly to allow God to correct my understanding of God.

The question becomes:

“Is the God I believe in actually the God who has revealed Himself?”

That is a question worth returning to throughout life.

The Goal Is Not Merely to Receive Things From God

If all I know about God concerns what He can do for me, then even my theology may still revolve around myself.

Knowing God has a greater destination.

Paul expresses it dramatically in Philippians 3:

“That I may know Him…”

Paul had already preached Christ.

He had experienced miracles.

He had received revelation.

He had suffered for the gospel.

Yet his desire remained:

that I may know Him.

There was still more.

This is perhaps what makes the knowledge of God inexhaustible.

You never graduate from knowing Him.

The believer of six months needs to know God.

The believer of sixty years still needs to know God.

The preacher needs to know God.

The theologian needs to know God.

The person experiencing abundance needs to know God.

The person walking through darkness needs to know God.

And sometimes a completely new season reveals how much of our previous confidence depended on knowing God in only one dimension.

My Prayer Has Changed

I still want God's provision.

I still want His direction.

I still want His protection.

I still want answers to prayer.

But increasingly, I want something underneath all of those things:

I want to know Him.

Not merely the God who answers the prayer, but the God I am praying to.

Not merely the God who opens the door, but the God I can trust when the door remains closed.

Not merely the God who gives me a rope when I am hanging from a cliff, but the God whose character gives me confidence whether He tells me to hold the rope, climb it, or release it.

Because eventually circumstances change.

Methods change.

People change.

Opportunities disappear.

Things we believed were permanent prove temporary.

But God remains.

Perhaps that is one of the deepest invitations of the Christian life:

not simply to spend our lives discovering what God can do,

but to spend our lives discovering who God is.

And the more we know Him, the more we discover how much more there is to know.