What I Learned Since I Knew It All

Are you old enough to remember the Encyclopedia Brittanica? How about the World Book Encyclopedia, or Encyclopedia Americana? Funk & Wagnalls, anyone? Once they were the repositories of knowledge, collections of information that, if nothing else, looked impressive and scholarly.

This classic Brockhaus Encyclopedia, photo courtesy
of Wikipedia, was an early storehouse of knowledge.

Today the only people owning these factual stockpiles call them collector’s items. No one knocks on your door anymore trying to sell you a set of encyclopedia. The reasons are simple: We have Google and other search engines that provide everything we need to know ligerally at our fingertips. And the information’s current. To keep encyclopedias up to date, they produced annual volumes to review what had transpired and was learned over the past 12 months. And even those were outdated before they got off the presses.

Of course, long before encyclopedias were even invented, there was another all-knowing resource. It was – and still is – called the “teenager.” If you’ve raised teenagers, or remember what it was like to be one, you realize young people have a special gift. Or maybe a curse: They know it all – or think they do. I’ve been a know-it-all teen, and have been a parent to teens, so I’ve experienced this complex condition. Maybe it’s instinctive to becoming independent, but they go to sleep one night agreeable and compliant, and the next morning wake up thinking they’ve acquired the wisdom of the universe.

The know-it-all syndrome doesn’t necessarily end when the teen years do, however. I recall numerous times as an adult – and probably many more that I’ve forgotten – when I was quick to make people aware of how much I knew. In retrospect, I’ve discovered I haven’t always known as much as I thought I did.

A little bit of knowledge can be a dangerous thing. In fact, knowledge – even truth – used recklessly turns into a lethal weapon. Because my style for communicating face to face tends to be direct, even off the cuff, there have been many occasions when I came to regret not being more tactful.

Someone might say, “The truth hurts,” but it doesn’t have to; it’s always better when the truth (at least as we understand it) is conveyed in a context of sensitivity and compassion, whenever possible. That’s why I often ponder some of the principles the Bible teaches about our eagerness to “tell the truth.” For instance, Ephesians 4:15 admonishes, “Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ.”

If that doesn’t seem clear enough, the ancient book of Proverbs offers this warning for those of us prone to be know-it-alls: “The wise don’t make a show of their knowledge, but fools broadcast their foolishness” (Proverbs 12:23).

The writer of Proverbs apparently was well-acquainted with the perils of verbose know-it-alls, because he offered more insights: “Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing” (Proverbs 12:18). “He who guards his lips guards his life, but he who speaks rashly will come to ruin” (Proverbs 13:3).

And there’s my all-time favorite, sound advice for reining in someone like me who’s always ready to tell others what I know – even when they haven’t asked my opinion: “When there are many words, transgression is unavoidable, but he who restrains his lips is wise” (Proverbs 10:19)

So if you, or someone you know, has a teenager stealthily hiding within, itching to demonstrate how he or she is like a walking, talking encyclopedia, these passages might be good ones to use as reference.

What Next, Cyberspace?

It’s the end of the world as we’ve known it! Encyclopedia Britannica announced that after nearly 250 years it no longer will produce a physical, printed edition. You can still utilize the esteemed reference tool, but only online.

I remember as a young person gazing with awe at the Encyclopedia Britannica. Dozens of hefty, scholarly, word-packed volumes, covering everything from Aardvark to Zwingli. (Ulrich Zwingli, in case you’re wondering, was a leader of the Reformation in Switzerland in the early 16^th century.) My family actually had a lesser encyclopedia, although not World Book or Funk & Wagnalls. But no matter, everyone knew the Encyclopedia Britannica was the Everest of encyclopedias. It became the fertile breeding ground for countless term papers and reports.

If you needed to know anything, chances are you would find it there. You still can, but now exclusively via cyberspace.

The Encyclo Brit (does anyone call it that, or did I make up a nickname?) is just the latest virtual information casualty.

When was the last time you sent – or received – a bonafide, handwritten letter? Even a note? Many of us still write letters, but they’re mostly composed on keyboards, and usually not “sent” in the traditional post office sense. They’re written and dispatched via e-mail, simply by pressing the magic “Send” button.

The same is true of many other types of communications: Invitations, announcements, memos, advertisements, publications. Even pesky chain letters have gotten cyber-spacy. I fear this has dealt the U.S. Postal Service a mortal wound.

Then there’s that grand American institution, the public library. I honestly haven’t been inside one in years. Why bother when all the information I need is literally at my fingertips, using Google or some other search engine? And although I haven’t yet taken this technological leap, just about any book you want can be downloaded to your tablet computer. (Said the professor to the student, “Take one tablet and text me in the morning”!)

It still seems somewhat adventurous to wander down library aisles, surrounded by shelves of musty-smelling books, not knowing what stands stacked within your grasp. I might visit a library again, if only for the nostalgia.

But let’s face it. Technology is reinventing our culture. And it’s not all bad. With the sum total of human knowledge doubling geometrically, it’s become impossible to contain it all within the scope of paper and ink. Why buy an encyclopedia that’s outdated before it’s off the press? Similarly, many newspapers are struggling because what they tell us is more history than news.

Yet, we need caution: Surrounded with this readily accessible, ever-expanding mass of information, we need wisdom to understand how to utilize it for good and not for ill. We can’t reverse the calendar, and technological change is only accelerating. So instead, we’d be wise to emulate the “men of Issachar” of the Old Testament who, we’re told, “understood the times and knew what (they) should do” (1 Chronicles 12:32).