Teaching

Imagine that, during a single day, you reached only seventy-two decision points—one every twenty minutes—and at each point there were only two possible directions.
That would produce:
2⁷² = 4,722,366,482,869,645,213,696 possible paths.
More than 4.7 sextillion possible versions of that one day—and you would experience only one of them.
That number is an illustration rather than a literal measurement, because real life contains far more than two possibilities at most moments. But it helps us begin to understand something about the knowledge of God.
We see the road we traveled.
God sees the road we traveled, the roads we refused, the roads we almost chose, and the roads from which His grace quietly protected us.
He sees where we are now. He also sees the best person we could become and the worst place our choices could have taken us. He knows every warning we ignored, every temptation we resisted, every door that closed before we could walk through it, and every unseen act of mercy that redirected our lives.
Scripture even gives us glimpses that God knows what would have happened under different circumstances. God told David what the people of Keilah would do if David remained there, so David left and that outcome never occurred. Jesus said that Tyre and Sidon would have repented if they had witnessed the miracles performed in other cities. God does not merely know what happened; He knows what could have happened. See 1 Samuel 23:10–13 and Matthew 11:20–24.
Yet God's knowledge does not remove our choices. His knowing does not mean He forces us to choose. We experience one road at a time, making real decisions with real consequences. The difference is that no decision we make ever surprises Him.
And that brings us to the cross.
Jesus did not go to the cross hoping humanity might eventually become worthy of His sacrifice. He did not die because He had seen only the best parts of us. He died knowing every possible road humanity could travel.
He knew every war before it began.
He knew every betrayal before the promise was made.
He knew every murder, every abuse, every lie, every act of hatred, every rejection of God, and every person who would hear His name and still turn away.
He knew Peter would deny Him.
He knew Judas would betray Him.
He knew the crowd would choose Barabbas.
He knew the soldiers would drive the nails.
He knew some people would receive His love, and He knew some would live their entire lives refusing to call Him Father.
And still, He went to the cross.
The cross was not God's desperate response to an unexpected human failure. Christ was known as our Redeemer before the foundation of the world. What happened at Calvary took place according to the foreknowledge and purpose of God. See Acts 2:23 and 1 Peter 1:18–20.
Before the words "Let there be light" were spoken, God already knew the darkness humanity would choose.
Before the first person took a breath, He knew the breath would one day leave Jesus' body on the cross.
Before history began, God knew its ending.
He declares the end from the beginning. He is the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End. He is not trapped inside time as we are. We stand in one moment, unable to see what the next moment holds. God sees the whole story. See Isaiah 46:9–10 and Revelation 22:13.
That means Jesus went to the cross knowing the final result of every human life.
He knew who would accept Him.
He knew who would reject Him.
He knew who would follow Him for a season and then walk away.
He knew who would fall repeatedly but keep returning.
He knew who would spend a lifetime running from Him.
And His foreknowledge did not stop His love.
"God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." — Romans 5:8
He did not die for an imaginary, improved version of humanity. He died for humanity as He already knew it would be.
He died knowing your best day.
He died knowing your worst day.
He died knowing every promise you would keep and every promise you would break.
He died knowing every road you would travel, every wrong turn you would make, every time you would refuse His direction, and every time you would finally reach for His hand.
And even now, He is drawing us toward the best road we are willing to follow.
He warns us.
He corrects us.
He places people in our lives.
He closes some doors and opens others.
He convicts our hearts.
He gives us moments when we know we should turn around.
He continues calling, even when we do not recognize His voice.
He continues loving, even when we refuse to call Him Father.
This does not mean God approves of everything we do. Love is not the same as approval. A good father can grieve over the choices of his child while never ceasing to love that child. God does not call darkness light or pretend that sin causes no harm. He sees exactly what our choices are doing to us, and that is why He keeps calling us toward something better.
When God says, "I am proud of you," it does not have to mean, "Everything you have done is right."
It can mean:
"I know every road you could have taken."
"I know how much worse it could have become."
"I know the battles no one else saw."
"I know every time you nearly gave up."
"I know the person I created you to become."
"I know where you are standing today."
"And I have not stopped loving you."
God sees more than your present location. He sees the entire landscape of your life. He sees the darkness behind you, the danger beside you, and the possibility still ahead of you.
We see one outcome.
God sees every road.
We see one lifetime.
God sees the beginning and the end.
We see the cross as something that happened two thousand years ago.
God saw the cross before He said, "Let there be light."
And knowing every possible outcome, every human failure, every rejection, and the final result of all mankind, Jesus still chose the nails.
The message of the cross is not merely:
"God loved you before you failed."
It is:
"God knew exactly how you would fail, and He chose to love you anyway."
He knew every road.
He knew the ending.
And still, He died for you.
