If God Already Knows, Are We Really Free? Knowing, Allowing, and Causing
Part One of Three
This essay began, in a sense, with a conversation between me, my family, and some friends. A few days ago, we were talking about suffering and the questions people ask when something terrible happens.
A loved one dies unexpectedly. A child becomes seriously ill. An accident changes a family forever. Someone who has tried to live a decent life loses everything.
Sooner or later, the question turns toward God:
Why did God do this to me?
Or perhaps more cautiously:
Why did God allow this to happen?
For Christians, an even harder question lies behind these words. We believe that God is all-knowing. God does not merely know what is happening today. He knows what happened yesterday, what will happen tomorrow, and how our lives will ultimately end.
God knew that the person we loved would die.
God knew the accident would happen.
God knew the illness would come.
God knew every decision we would make before we made it.
And God already knows how our lives will end.
So the question becomes unavoidable:
If God already knows everything, are we really free?
And if God already knows our ultimate destiny, what is the purpose of Judgment Day? How can God judge us for something he already knew would happen?
These questions touch the heart of God's knowledge, human freedom, suffering, and justice. Nobody is immune from asking them. So where do we begin our answer?
Perhaps the simplest place to begin is with three words:
Knowing. Allowing. Causing.
They are not the same thing.
Much of our confusion about God begins when we treat them as though they were.
God Knows, But Does God Cause?
Imagine a father who knows his adult son extremely well.
The son is about to make a terrible financial decision. The father warns him repeatedly. He knows his son's character and stubbornness so well that he is almost certain his son will ignore him.
The son does exactly that and loses his money.
Did the father's knowledge cause the son's decision?
Obviously not.
The son made the decision.
Of course, God's knowledge is infinitely greater than a parent's knowledge. God does not simply make an excellent prediction.
God knows.
And nothing surprises God.
If God is truly all-knowing, then God knew every decision I would make before I was born.
But here we must make the distinction that guides everything that follows:
God knowing what I will choose is not the same as God choosing it for me.
If God knows that tomorrow I will lie, his knowledge does not put the lie into my mouth.
If God knows that I will forgive someone, his knowledge does not force me to forgive.
God knows the choice I will make, but it remains my choice.
This may sound like a small distinction, but without it, human responsibility begins to disappear.
If God predetermined every word I would speak and every action I would perform, what exactly could he judge me for?
I would simply be acting out a script he had already written.
A person could stand before God on Judgment Day and say:
“You decided what I would do. I merely did it. Why are you judging me?”
Christianity cannot accept that conclusion while continuing to speak meaningfully about sin, repentance, love, responsibility, forgiveness, and judgment.
Human freedom must therefore be real.
God's knowledge is perfect.
But knowledge is not coercion.
The Drunk Driver
During the conversation that prompted this essay, the example of a drunk driver came up.
Suppose someone drinks too much, gets into his car, crosses the center line, and kills an innocent person.
Did God know beforehand that this would happen?
If God is truly all-knowing, the Christian answer must be yes.
We should not weaken God's omniscience simply because its implications make us uncomfortable.
God knew the driver would drink.
God knew he would get into the car.
God knew he would cross the center line.
God knew who would be approaching from the opposite direction.
God knew that person would die.
But did God's knowledge cause the accident?
No.
The driver chose to drink.
The driver chose to drive.
His choices had consequences.
Here our three words become important.
God knew what would happen.
God allowed a world in which human choices have real consequences.
But that does not mean God caused the driver to become drunk and kill another human being.
If God personally caused the driver's choices and then punished him for those same choices, we would have a serious problem with divine justice.
But if the driver's freedom was real, his responsibility remains real.
And so does judgment.
But Would You Get into the Car?
Then came a very good objection.
If I know that someone is drunk and should not be driving, would I willingly get into the car with him?
Probably not.
More importantly, would I allow my child to get into that car?
Certainly not.
So the question naturally follows:
If I would try to prevent a tragedy that I merely suspect might happen, why doesn't an all-knowing God prevent a tragedy he knows with absolute certainty will happen?
That question cannot simply be dismissed by saying, “God gives us free will.”
After all, the innocent person coming from the opposite direction also has free will.
He did not choose to die.
First, we must recognize an important difference between our knowledge and God's knowledge.
When I say, “I know this drunk driver may have an accident,” I do not really know the future. I recognize a serious danger. I know what might happen.
God, if he is all-knowing, knows what will happen.
That actually makes the question harder, not easier.
God knows the accident will happen.
God could presumably prevent it.
Yet sometimes he does not.
Why?
Christianity does not give us a simple answer explaining why God permits every individual tragedy. But it does tell us that God created a world in which freedom is real and consequences are real.
Imagine the alternative.
The drunk driver turns the wheel, but God moves the other car.
The murderer pulls the trigger, but God stops the bullet.
The thief reaches for another person's property, but God makes his hand freeze.
A dictator orders innocent people killed, but every weapon mysteriously fails.
Human beings could still form evil intentions, but whenever those intentions were about to produce serious consequences, God would cancel them.
We would possess something called freedom, but our ability to act upon that freedom would become largely an illusion whenever the consequences became serious enough for God to intervene.
Real freedom is frightening precisely because our choices can actually affect other people.
But the drunk-driver example teaches us something else.
If I know the man is drunk, Christianity does not allow me to shrug my shoulders and say:
“God gave him free will.”
Quite the opposite.
I have a responsibility to act.
I should refuse to ride with him.
I should prevent my child from riding with him.
If possible, I should take away his keys, find another driver, or otherwise prevent him from endangering innocent people.
God's permission of human freedom does not give human beings permission to remain passive before preventable evil.
Our freedom carries responsibility for one another.
And still the hardest question remains:
Why does God sometimes permit the accident when human beings fail to prevent it?
Here Christianity eventually reaches a point where intellectual explanation meets faith.
We do not know why God permits every particular tragedy.
Where Does This Leave Us?
We have reached an important distinction, but not yet an answer to the whole problem.
God's knowledge of an event does not mean that God caused it. And God's allowing something to happen does not necessarily mean that he desired or approved of it.
Knowing is not causing.
Allowing is not causing.
And allowing is not necessarily approving.
These distinctions preserve something essential: human freedom is real, and therefore human responsibility is real. The drunk driver cannot blame God's foreknowledge for his decision to drink and drive. The murderer cannot blame God for pulling the trigger. The person who chooses hatred cannot escape responsibility by saying that God already knew what he would do.
But this leaves us with an even more difficult question.
Not all suffering is caused by a drunk driver, a murderer, or another person's bad decision.
What about cancer?
What about the death of a child?
What about earthquakes, hurricanes, disease, and the countless tragedies for which there seems to be no human being to blame?
And when people say, “God took her,” or “Everything happens for a reason,” are they expressing Christian faith—or unintentionally making God the author of suffering?
The distinction between knowing, allowing, and causing has brought us this far.
But now it must face suffering itself.
In Part Two: Why does God allow suffering—and does everything really happen for a reason?
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Sources and Further Reading
This Perspective engages longstanding Christian and philosophical questions concerning divine foreknowledge, human freedom, moral responsibility, providence, and suffering. Readers interested in exploring the theological and philosophical foundations of these questions may consult the following sources.
Biblical sources. Psalm 139:1–16; Isaiah 46:9–10; Matthew 10:29–30; Luke 10:25–37; Hebrews 4:13; James 2:14–17; 1 John 3:16–18. Read the Bible online (USCCB)
Augustine of Hippo. Enchiridion (Handbook on Faith, Hope and Love), especially chapters 104–105, on God’s foreknowledge and the human exercise of free will. Read the full text online
Thomas Aquinas. Summa Theologiae, First Part, Question 14, “God’s Knowledge,” especially Article 13 on future contingent things. Read Question 14 online
Catechism of the Catholic Church, §§309–314. Divine providence, moral evil, creaturely freedom, and God’s permission rather than causation of moral evil. Read the Vatican text
Catechism of the Catholic Church, §§1730–1738. Freedom and moral responsibility; §1737 specifically discusses foreseeable responsibility using the example of manslaughter caused by a drunken driver. Read the Vatican text
Linda Zagzebski. “Foreknowledge and Free Will,” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, substantive revision February 17, 2026. A scholarly overview of theological fatalism and major historical and contemporary responses. Read the full article online
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