The Digital Tree of Knowledge: Internet and the Illusion of Omniscience
The ancient lie of the serpent reverberates through fiber optic cables. The internet does more than just provide information; algorithms whisper the same lie that started in Eden every time you unlock your phone: "You will be like God, knowing good and evil." Omniscience is promised. AI chatbots pose as all-knowing advisors, social media feeds mimic divine perspective, and search engines turn into oracles. Each whispering that finite creatures can transcend their created limits through digital connections to infinite data, we carry around pocket-sized towers of Babel.
When "everyone did what was right in his own eyes" (Judges 17:6), the chaos that afflicted ancient Israel was the result of their moral compass starting from their usurpation of God as the basis for morality. In the say way, the internet's promise of godlike knowledge, has only resulted in moral chaos, not expanded wisdom. Understanding our digital age, like all ages prior and to come, should be seen through redemptive history, is the only way to see things clearly: wisdom comes from fearing the Lord, not from gathering data, and true omniscience is the exclusive domain of God.
The Ancient Rebellion in Silicon Valley
Learning alone was never the original temptation. The serpent offered a hostile takeover of divine authority when he promised Eve that she would "be like God, knowing good and evil" (Genesis 3:5). This was usurpation, not education. Adam and Eve were not learning about ethics as if they were innocently ignorant prior to their “knowing good and evil.” They were asserting their authority to define right and wrong in the same way God defines it.
This is where moral relativism's theological foundation can be found. Creatures eventually turn into their own moral authorities when they try to rise above their creaturely limitations and take on God's authority. As the book of Judges illustrates, this results in societal collapse rather than enlightened freedom. "Everyone did what was right in his own eyes" is not a celebration of autonomy but rather a diagnosis of anarchy.
This ancient rebellion has been turned into a weapon in our digital age. Think about how moral reasoning is now influenced by algorithms: TikTok exposes young people to moral claims made by influencers who claim to be knowledgeable based on their own experiences rather than revelation from God. “AI therapy” bots now provide advice devoid of the wisdom that comes from understanding the dark recesses of the human heart (Jeremiah 17:9), and this seems positive as it doesn’t have the sin associated with mankind, but it denies true incarnational counseling that each individual soul needs to heal and to grow.
These are active “liturgies” that shape our affections and allegiances rather than neutral instruments. Every swipe, search, and algorithmic suggestion teaches us to expect immediate answers, to trust crowdsourced opinion over biblical authority, and to believe that truth is derived from data aggregation rather than divine revelation.
Our roles are clearly defined by God's covenant: He is the sovereign Creator who establishes reality, and we are image-bearers called to care for creation under His authority. We are tempted to flip these roles by the internet's promise of omniscience. We automatically reach for phones to gather opinions or look for praise and worship from online communities rather than starting with the question, "What does the Lord say?" Information gathering is not the issue. The Bible encourages people to seek advice (Proverbs 19:20). Treating the consensus of people as the final word is the issue.
Further, the confirmation bias found within algorithms used by digital platforms to curate individualized realities only end up advancing the moral and cultural decay, but do so through empty promises of bringing everyone together. For example, Facebook uses our previous interactions to shape what we see. Google uses our browsing history to predict what we want to find in our search results, rather than giving the best information. As a result, there are billions of distinct moral universes in which everyone's subjective truth is perceived as objectively confirmed. All of this solidifies relativism but does so with the facade of objectivity. This is done through the worship of various political ideologies, others, therapeutic emotivism, and still others, scientific materialism. All reject biblical authority as being out of date and use the wealth of resources available on the internet to support their preferred orthodoxies.
This is spiritual adultery rather than intellectual error. Because we look to the internet for the omniscience, moral guidance, and ultimate meaning that only Christ can provide, we have turned it into a functional god.
Christ's Counter-Narrative and the Path of Descent
While we seek to become gods through accumulated knowledge and artificial intelligence, Christ went from divine omniscience to human finitude. Instead of viewing equality with God as something to be understood, Paul claims that even though he was in the form of God, he "emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant" (Philippians 2:6-7).
This is the crucial reversal that our digital age requires: humility, not a desire for divine knowledge, is the path to true wisdom. Christ, who truly possessed divine omniscience, made the decision to descend through incarnation, service, suffering, and death. We choose ascent, accumulation, control, pride, and ultimately spiritual death because we are dissatisfied with our station that we are creatures, and not the Creator.
This christological pattern reframes our view of technology. We can accept digital tools as gifts that are humbly stewarded in service of God's kingdom rather than using them to get around creaturely limitations. Christ's example demonstrates that genuine authority does not result from knowledge accumulation but rather from complete submission to the will of the Father.
Restoring a strong Sabbath theology is one useful strategy that churches can use to combat digital omniscience. In addition to being a rest-related law, the Sabbath commandment also functions as a covenant symbol that reminds us who is the Creator and who is the creature.
In a society that is addicted to constant connectivity, keeping Sabbath becomes a weekly confession: the world does not need my full attention, and my identity is not reliant on digital engagement metrics. The restless pride that drives compulsive information gathering, endless scrolling, and an unsatisfactory need for connection is addressed in Sabbath. While technology teaches us to expect instant gratification, the Sabbath cultivates patience, contentment, and faith in God's provision.
Serious Sabbath-observant churches inherently embrace practices that defy digital omniscience; this does not mean they are immune, but it does mean they have a better chance of protection. They have a liturgical worship that prioritizes God's revealed will over individual preferences, in-depth Scripture meditation that cannot be reduced to cursory searches, and in-person interactions that require attentive listening rather than algorithmic forecasts.
The Sabbath governs our desires, and covenantal wisdom directs our behavior. Digital tools can be redeemed when used in a way that is consistent with God's design. How we use the internet is more important than whether we use it at all. Think about the amazing ways devoted Christians already use these resources; millions of people can access Scripture in their native tongues thanks to Bible translation apps like YouVersion. Encrypted messaging is used by underground churches in countries with restrictions to plan worship and distribute gospel materials. Mature saints provide encouragement and discipleship to isolated believers in far-off areas. Digital networks are used by medical missionaries in disaster areas to coordinate relief efforts. These examples show how technology promotes rather than threatens God's kingdom.
Each platform serves as a liturgical system that teaches us specific habits. Intentional counter-liturgies will be developed by churches that recognize this, such as silent practices that teach us to wait upon the Lord above digital noise, lengthy Scripture readings that foster patience for difficult texts, and group worship that puts the collective confession of truth ahead of individual preferences.
It will inevitably form what kind of people we are becoming as a result of our technological practices is the question. Are we being shaped as patient disciples who find the ultimate fulfillment in God's unchanging Word, or as restless consumers looking for the next information fix?
True Omniscience and the Hope of Glory
The internet's false promise points to real human longing that only God can satisfy. We do desire comprehensive knowledge and perfect understanding. These are echoes of our creation in God's image and foreshadowings of future glorification, so they are not entirely illegitimate desires, just a bit disordered.
"Now I know in part, then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known" is a promise found in 1 Corinthians 13:12. One day, while we will not be omniscient, we will have our capacity for knowledge exponentially increased in our glorified bodies. The redeemed will partake in divine knowledge in ways beyond our current comprehension when Christ returns and makes everything new. However, this knowledge of the future will be received in humility rather than with pride. It will not be the outcome of ingenious algorithms, but rather the fruit of perfect union with Christ.
Our technological moment is reframed by this eschatological hope. We can wait patiently for God's perfect timing rather than frantically pursuing omniscience through digital means. Every human being in the digital age faces the age-old decision of whether to fear the Lord or rely on our own knowledge. Will we pursue wisdom by absorbing knowledge or by yielding to divine revelation? Will we strive to become like God through technological omniscience, or will we find our identity as beloved creatures of the Most High?
Scripture makes it abundantly evident where genuine wisdom can be found: "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge" (Proverbs 1:7), and "all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge are hidden in Christ" (Colossians 2:3). Stacking data points and relying on algorithmic recommendations are not the paths to true wisdom. It results from obediently accepting God's self-disclosure in His Son and His Word, all other means are simply us trying to overthrow God.
This does not imply that Christians should shun critical thinking or be anti-intellectual. Instead, it implies that every intellectual endeavor needs to be based on a sound theological foundation and epistemological humility. We study the world to better understand and care for God's creation, not to become independent judges of truth. We collect data to faithfully serve within the constraints we have set for ourselves, not to become omniscient.
The digital Tower of Babel will ultimately fail, just as the original did. The basic human issue, that we are creatures trying to live as Creators, finite beings reaching for infinite knowledge and authority, cannot be solved by any amount of technological sophistication. This project is doomed not by external limitations but by internal contradictions, ones that cannot be solved by creation or human creativity, but only resolved by God’s power alone.
But the gospel offers a better way. We can accept the ladder God provided in Christ rather than erecting towers to ascend to heaven. We can discover our true identity as the Father's adopted children rather than clinging to divinity through technological means. We can find peace that transcends comprehension by uniting with the God who genuinely knows everything, rather than pursuing omniscience through technological connection.
In the end, we must choose between humility and pride, creature and Creator, trust and mistrust. We can keep constructing digital Babel, using microchips and code to pursue the ancient promise of the serpent. Alternatively, we can bow down to the One who is the truth, the life, and the way. The eternal joy that comes from knowing that the only true God knows and loves us perfectly can only be found in Christ, along with all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.
We find that being known, rather than gaining knowledge, satisfies our deepest desire for knowledge when we choose Christ over digital omniscience. An infinitely better option than algorithmic predictions is provided by the God who knows our thoughts before we do and counts the hairs on our heads. He offers Himself. This is the real omniscience that our hearts yearn for, not the icy buildup of facts, but the tender embrace of divine love that fully understands and loves us.
