What Do You Actually Know?:
Here's something curious: we trust pain medication works because we've felt the relief ourselves. But we believe in blood cells because someone with a microscope told us they exist.
Both feel like "knowing," don't they? But are they really the same thing?
Two Ways of Knowing Think about how you come to believe things are true.
Some things you accept on testimony. The Earth orbits the Sun. Atoms exist. Your medication contains what the label says. You've never verified these yourself, but you trust the experts, the scientists, the accumulated knowledge of others.
There's nothing wrong with this—we'd be paralyzed if we had to personally test everything. We build on what humanity has already discovered.
But other things you know from experience. You know coffee wakes you up because you've felt it. You know your friend is trustworthy because you've tested that relationship over time. You know swimming is harder than it looks because you've been in the water.
This is a different kind of knowing, isn't it?
The first is borrowed knowledge—believing about something.
The second is lived knowledge—knowing it for yourself.
Where Does Faith Fit? Now, what about spiritual things?
Many of us inherit our beliefs about God the same way we inherit beliefs about blood cells—through testimony. Parents, pastors, traditions, sacred texts. We believe about God because trusted voices told us to.
And maybe that's where faith begins for everyone. We all start somewhere.
But here's the question: Is that where it stays?
Because there's a difference between:
Believing God exists because you were taught it Knowing God exists because you've encountered something real One is inherited religion. The other is... something else. Personal. Tested. Lived.
The Invitation to Test What's fascinating is that spiritual truth—if it's real—doesn't seem afraid of testing.
The ancient texts actually invite it:
"Taste and see..." "Test everything..." "If anyone wants to know, let them try..." That's not blind faith, is it? That's an invitation to experiment. To move from secondhand belief to firsthand experience.
What if prayer isn't just ritual, but testing whether anyone's listening?
What if repentance isn't just remorse, but testing whether transformation is actually possible?
What if spiritual practices are less about obligation and more about creating conditions to experience something for yourself?
The Honest Question Here's where it gets personal, and I'm genuinely curious:
Which kind of faith do you have?
Not which one you should have—which one you actually have right now.
If someone asked, "Do you know God is real?" would your honest answer be:
"I believe it because I was taught it" (testimonial) "I know it because I've experienced it" (experiential) "I'm not sure yet—I'm still testing" None of these answers are wrong. But they're not the same thing, are they?
What If You Tested It? I wonder what would happen if we approached spiritual claims the way we approach medicine.
You don't just believe pain medication works—you test it. You take it, pay attention to what happens, and draw conclusions based on results.
What if we did that with spiritual things?
Pray genuinely and see if anything shifts Practice forgiveness and notice if it changes you Seek God honestly and pay attention to whether you encounter anything real Live out the teachings and observe the results in your life Not with cynicism, but with genuine curiosity. Like a real experiment.
What would you discover?
The Risk of Confusing the Two Maybe problems arise when we mix these up.
If you've genuinely experienced something, but someone dismisses it as "just what you were taught," that feels invalidating, doesn't it?
But if you claim absolute certainty about something you've never personally tested, that's... well, is that really honest?
And if you demand others believe your experience without testing it themselves—can knowledge even work that way? Can it be transferred, or must it be lived?
Just Wondering I'm not here to tell you what to believe. I'm just pondering this distinction.
We live with both kinds of knowing. Borrowed and lived. Testimonial and experiential. And that's okay.
But maybe it's worth asking ourselves: In the areas that matter most—faith, meaning, truth, God—which kind of knowing do I have?
And if it's still borrowed... am I willing to test it?
Because that's where belief might become knowledge.
That's where religion might become relationship.
That's where inherited faith might become something you've actually lived.
The question isn't whether you should believe based on testimony alone.
The question is: What would happen if you tested it for yourself?