Going Beyond Head Knowledge
Because it's insufficient for transformation
I’ve become fascinated by the importance of “implicit knowledge” for discipleship and formation. In the Reformed world (which are the theological circles I tend to run in), we often have a large blind spot when it comes to the importance of implicit knowledge over explicit knowledge. In laymen’s terms, we over-emphasize head knowledge (explicit knowledge) to the neglect of a type of knowledge that is more relational, experiential, and embodied (implicit knowledge). The problem is that our behavior is more shaped by our implicit knowledge than our explicit knowledge, which means that head knowledge is insufficient for discipleship and transformation.
The prophet Jeremiah speaks to dynamic: “Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches, but let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the Lord who practices steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth. For in these things I delight, declares the Lord” (Jeremiah 9:23-24).
That word “know” in the original language refers not just to head knowledge, but to an experiential, personal, and intimate knowledge. It’s the same word used to describe the way a husband and wife know each other and the way that Adam and Eve knew they were naked in Genesis 3. It’s not talking about something we read on a piece of paper or are told by someone else. It’s something we know in our embodied experience. We may not even be able to put it to words.
Have you ever had a moment when you said, “I can’t explain to you how I know - I just know!”? Have you ever been able to finish a close friend’s sentence? Or have you ever seen the look someone’s face and immediately (without them saying anything) knew what they were thinking? These are moments where the kind of knowledge that I’m talking about shows up - that “in your bones” personal knowledge that comes through relationship and experience, not through studying facts. Counselors, neuroscientists, and trauma experts talk about this sort of knowledge all the time, and they understand how this implicit knowledge shapes our behaviors over mere information and logic.
In Jeremiah 9, God is saying that he wants us to not just have head knowledge of him but relational, experiential, personal, intimate, and embodied knowledge of him. We can know him, not like a distant celebrity we read about, but like a close friend, confidant, or spouse.
When teaching and discipling youth, then, this has huge implications. I don’t want my lessons to just communicate great information. Information alone does not lead to transformation nor to that personal knowledge of God. I want to help students connect the information to their lives and their present struggles and feelings by getting to the level of implicit knowledge, not just head knowledge.
How do you do that? Outside of lived experience, often this implicit knowledge grows when we use things like illustrations, stories, and imagery. When our emotions and bodies are engaged, that can also help. One way I have found is engaging imagination, because it provides an in-the-moment way to experience the concepts being taught.
Here’s what I mean by that. Say I’m teaching students about God as their shepherd. I want them not only know this in their heads but to genuinely and experientially know God as their shepherd. The challenge is that I can’t force them to experience in that moment that God is their shepherd. What I can do, though, is give their brains an opportunity to imagine this experience (which, as far as the brain is concerned, is basically the same thing as real lived experience). Therefore, I might use a few minutes during the lesson to lead them through imagining God as their shepherd.
I might ask them to sit quietly and think on this question: where in your life do you feel you could use a shepherd protecting, guiding, and caring for you? If it helps them to close their eyes or write this down, I’d encourage them to do that. Next, I’d ask them to imagine themselves in that scenario (again, closing their eyes may be helpful). I’d give them time to play with their imagination for a minute there, because the more detailed they get, the more effective this may become. I’d prompt them to notice what they are seeing, hearing, touching, and feeling emotionally in that scenario. Once they get that image in their mind, I’d ask them to imagine God shepherding them in that scenario (there’s freedom in how they visualize this - is there a symbol, image, or sense that represents God? Do they imagine Jesus in human form as a shepherd? It’s less about “getting this right” and more about what fits in their imagination). Then, I’d ask them to notice if that shifted what they’re feeling emotionally. If it did, how does that show up in what they’re feeling in their bodies? What changed in the scenario? I might ask them how that visual brought them comfort and have them share answers out loud.
This is something I’m trying to incorporate as I’m writing lessons currently. I imagine it may be new and uncomfortable to many at first, but I think it’s worth trying out. Personally, I have found it to be incredibly helpful and edifying when others have led me in these kinds of practices (because I’m far from the first to come up with these sorts of imaginative ways of engaging the Scriptures), and it has helped Scripture to come alive and move past just a head knowledge in many ways. (Go ahead and try the above example for yourself right now and perhaps you’ll see what I mean.)
I’d love to hear your thoughts. How are you finding ways to move yourself and/or those you disciple beyond mere head knowledge?