Jesus knew what he was talking about. Every time he spoke. He literally was a know-it-all.

Can you imagine how much fun that would be? I mean, sometimes I act like I know more than I do, but really KNOWING? Wow! As the wife of a former pitcher/coach, I probably have seen a few thousand baseball games in my life. Our house has been filled with players and staff who sit for hours and talk about the mechanics of pitchers. I should know the difference between the movement of a sinker and a change-up.

Dave and I watched this year’s World Series, and periodically I commented on a pitch. “Was that slider really outside?” Dave’s corrections were annoying. It was a “curve ball.”

He was wrong.

I watch “The Voice” on television and remark that the singer sounds just like Celine Dion. No judge turns his/her chair. Their observations stun me. The vocalist was “a little pitchy” or “had an irregular vibrato” or seemed “a little breathy.” WHAT?

Last week, I attended church in Charlotte, North Carolina. Pastor Loran Livingston was livid about what he had read the previous week on social media. He called Christians into account after they had written defamatory statements about the presidential election on social media, reminding his congregation that none of us have all the facts, and that we act unloving when we pretend we do. Sometimes (most times) the best thing we can do is keep our thoughts to ourselves. Know-it-alls find that an almost impossible task.

The amazing thing about Jesus is he didn’t have to prove he knew anything…like we think we do. Sometimes, what he knew he refused to disclose. Before being crucified, he remained silent—instead of defending himself–when being interrogated by Herod, the Sanhedrin and Pontius Pilate. I’m fairly certain I would have had some pithy thoughts I could not keep to myself.

My granddaughter’s husband, Tyler, is in seminary in North Carolina. Recently, I was there to visit them (and meet my new great grandson—so cool!) and asked Tyler about his experience. He answered that he thought that seminary would provide more answers, especially after learning Greek so he could better understand and explain the true intent of scripture. He said that he has more questions now than when he entered seminary.

I shared with him how my former pastor explained the seminary experience:

The first year in seminary you don’t know what you don’t know.

The second year in seminary you know what you don’t know.

The third year in seminary you don’t know what you know.

The fourth year in seminary you know what you know and how much you still need to learn.

Know-it-alls expose their insecurities when their opinions are the only ones that matter, and I don’t know about you, but until we reach Heaven, none of us have those bragging rights. More times than not, we just need to keep our thoughts to ourselves.

That being said, I still think it was a slider.