Do you know God ?
In the Catholic tradition, the question "Do I know about God or do I truly know God?" strikes at the heart of what it means to live the faith. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that man's faculties enable him to come to a knowledge of the existence of a personal God through reason and the created world (CCC 35). We can study theology, memorize the attributes of God—His omnipotence, omniscience, mercy, and justice—and even defend the doctrines of the faith with clarity. This is **knowing about God: an intellectual grasp of revealed truths, a doctrinal familiarity that forms the foundation of belief.
Yet the Church insists this is not enough. God is not merely an object of study but a Person—in fact, Three Persons in one divine communion—who desires intimacy with us. The Catechism explains that while reason can lead us to affirm God's existence, true intimacy requires divine initiative: God reveals Himself and grants the grace to welcome that revelation in faith (CCC 35). Eternal life itself is defined by Jesus as knowing the Father and the Son personally: "Now this is eternal life, that they should know you, the only true God, and the one whom you sent, Jesus Christ" (Jn 17:3).
Knowing about God can remain external, like knowing facts about a distant king from history books. We might recite the Creed flawlessly, attend Mass regularly, and discuss Scripture intelligently, yet still treat God as an idea rather than a living relationship. The demons, Scripture warns, "believe that there is one God" and shudder (Jas 2:19), possessing perfect theological knowledge without love or surrender. Jesus Himself cautions against those who cry "Lord, Lord" while lacking a lived communion: "I never knew you" (Mt 7:23). Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up (1 Cor 8:1).
Truly knowing God, by contrast, is relational and transformative. It begins with faith as a personal adherence to God (CCC 150), a trusting surrender that opens the heart to His presence. This knowledge grows through prayer—silent adoration, honest conversation, and listening in the quiet—through the sacraments, especially the Eucharist where we encounter Christ bodily, and through charity, where we meet Him in the least of our brethren (Mt 25:40). It deepens in trials, when we experience God's faithfulness, and in joys, when we recognize His gifts. As faith matures, it becomes "set afire by love," leading to a more penetrating understanding of God's mysteries (CCC 158).
The saints exemplify this distinction. St. Thomas Aquinas, a master of theology who wrote volumes "knowing about" God, ended his life in ecstatic prayer, declaring all his writings "straw" compared to what God revealed to his heart. St. Thérèse of Lisieux knew God not through scholarly depths but through childlike trust and love. Both moved beyond information to communion.
So, examine your own heart: Does your faith consist mainly of religious routines, moral efforts, or intellectual assent? Or does it involve daily turning to God in love, seeking His will, and allowing His grace to change you? The invitation is clear: move from knowing about the Triune God to knowing Him as Father, Redeemer, and Sanctifier. This is the path to holiness, the fulfillment of our deepest longing, and the essence of the Christian life. May we pray with the Psalmist: Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10)—not merely know about Him, but know Him truly, now and forever. Amen.
Pax Christi,
Mike The Lesser