Epigraph:

Allah is the First and the Last, and the Manifest and the Hidden, and He knows all things full well. (Al Quran 57:3)

He is Allah, and there is no God beside Him, the Knower of the unseen and the seen. He is the Gracious, the Merciful. (Al Quran 59:22)

By Zia H Shah MD, Chief Editor of the Muslim Times

Introduction

The Abrahamic faiths – Judaism, Christianity, and Islam – each affirm that God is omniscient, knowing all things including the future. This belief in divine foreknowledge raises enduring questions at the crossroads of science, philosophy, and theology. How can an eternal God know future events without undermining human free will? Does God exist outside of time or throughout all time? And how do modern scientific theories of time – from Einstein’s relativity and the “block universe” to the arrow of time – challenge or illuminate classical ideas of God’s omniscience? This commentary explores God’s foreknowledge in all three traditions with equal attention, addressing three dimensions: Scientific concepts of time and how they intersect with divine omniscience; Philosophical problems such as foreknowledge versus free will and God’s relationship to time; and Theological understandings of God’s knowledge in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, from scripture and classical theologians (like Maimonides, Augustine, and al-Ghazālī) to contemporary thought. We will highlight where the traditions converge and diverge in their treatment of God’s knowledge of future events, and how each has responded – both historically and today – to challenges posed by science and philosophy.

Scientific Perspectives on Time and Foreknowledge

Modern physics has profoundly altered our understanding of time. In classical (Newtonian) physics, time was absolute and flowed uniformly for everyone, a backdrop for events. But Einstein’s theory of relativity shattered this notion: time is interwoven with space and relative to observers. In special relativity, two observers moving at different speeds can disagree on whether two events are simultaneous. There is no single universal “now,” implying that the division of time into past, present, and future depends on one’s frame of reference ​thequran.love​. This gives rise to the block universe interpretation (associated with the philosophical view of Eternalism): all moments of time – past, present, and future – coexist in a four-dimensional spacetime “block,” and the flow of time is a kind of illusion or matter of perspective​ thequran.love​. As one science essay explains, “past, present, and future all coexist in a four-dimensional spacetime block – and it’s only our consciousness moving along this block that gives the impression of flow.”​ In such a block universe, the future is just as real as the past, which intriguingly parallels the theological idea that God already knows the future in its entirety. Indeed, if all of time is “laid out” in a continuum, an omniscient God might simply see every moment at once. Some theists have welcomed this resonance, suggesting that relativity’s block universe models how God’s eternal knowledge works – “all of history in a single view”​ thequran.love. If God is outside the flow of time, He could behold the past and future just as plainly as the present, much as Eternalist physics holds all times to exist equally.

Not everyone, however, embraces the block universe as an answer to foreknowledge. The B-theory of time (Eternalism) implied by relativity conflicts with our intuitive sense that the future is open and not yet real. Some religious philosophers favor a tensed or A-theory of time (often called Presentism), where only the present is real and time truly flows. They worry that if the future already exists (even if only to God), human freedom may be illusory. For example, the Christian philosopher William Lane Craig advocates a Lorentzian interpretation of relativity to retain an objective present. He “rejects four-dimensionalism or spacetime realism” for theological reasons, holding that “temporal becoming is real and there is an objective difference between past, present, and future”​ biola.edu. In Craig’s view, God experiences sequence or absolute time and knows the future infallibly, but the future isn’t “out there” yet – God knows it as something that will happen rather than something equally present. This illustrates how modern science can spur different theological responses: some align with the block universe to reinforce God’s all-encompassing vision of time, while others reinterpret physics to safeguard a dynamic unfolding of history that God engages with.

Another scientific consideration is the asymmetry of time. Physical laws at the microscopic level are largely time-symmetric (they don’t dictate an inherent direction for time’s flow), yet we experience a clear arrow of time from past to future. Thermodynamics explains this via entropy: disorder tends to increase, so events like mixing or decaying are effectively irreversible ​thequran.love. This arrow of time marks a fundamental difference between past (remembered, low entropy) and future (unknown, higher entropy)​ thequran.love. How does this relate to God’s foreknowledge? If God is outside or above time, the arrow of entropy and one-way flow might be irrelevant to Him – God wouldn’t be “stuck” in the forwards direction the way we are. All three Abrahamic faiths conceive God as the Creator of time’s order, not a subject of it. For instance, the Qur’an emphasizes that “God is the First and the Last” (Qur’an 57:3), and classical Islamic thought holds *“for Allah there is no past, present, or future as He alone regulates time.” The Prophet Muhammad taught, “Let not one of you curse time, for Allah Himself is time,” meaning God is the master of time’s flow​ yaqeeninstitute.org. Similarly, some Jewish and Christian theologians assert that God is timeless – “the Creator of time” – and thus not constrained by the temporal arrow​ seforimblog.com ​thequran.love. If the asymmetry of time is a feature of the created universe (for example, emerging from entropy), a transcendent God could view all events without the sequential limitations we face.

That said, modern cosmology and quantum theory also introduce new puzzles. Relativity implies that what we call “now” is relative, which, as noted, lends support to a tenseless, God’s-eye view of time​ thequran.love. Yet quantum mechanics, with its indeterminacy, suggests the future at the smallest scales isn’t strictly determined until it happens – raising the question of whether even God “waits” to see outcomes or knows all probabilities beforehand. Some theologians speculate that quantum indeterminacy could be the mechanism of genuine free will (or God’s voluntary limitation of foreknowledge), but traditional doctrine holds that God’s knowledge is absolute, covering even apparently random events. In sum, science has challenged static, simplistic views of time, but it has also provided provocative analogies for divine foreknowledge. Concepts like the block universe give a scientific model for an eternal observer, while the arrow of time highlights the contrast between our temporal perspective and God’s potential vantage point beyond time’s one-way street. All three Abrahamic traditions have thinkers engaging with these ideas, trying to harmonize Einstein’s universe with a God who “declares the end from the beginning” (Isaiah 46:10). The stage is set for philosophical inquiry: does God’s knowing the future mean the future is fixed, and what is the nature of God’s eternity in relation to time?

Philosophical Dimensions: Foreknowledge, Free Will, and God’s Relation to Time

From a philosophical standpoint, divine foreknowledge raises a classic problem: if God infallibly knows what will happen, do human beings truly have free will? This is often framed as the dilemma of foreknowledge and free will, or “theological fatalism.” The core issue is one of logical necessity: if God knows today that X will happen tomorrow, then come tomorrow X must happen (otherwise God’s knowledge would have been wrong, which is impossible). But if X must happen, how can anyone choose to do otherwise than X? All three monotheistic traditions have grappled with this apparent conflict, and philosophers have proposed various resolutions.

One major approach is to assert that God’s knowledge does not impose causality or necessity on our choices. As far back as the 4th century, Christian thinkers like St. Augustine argued that God’s foreknowledge is like seeing an event in advance, not causing it. Augustine maintained that we choose freely, and God simply knows, from His eternal vantage, what those free choices will be​ seforimblog.com. He famously described God as eternally present to all times at once, so that what we call future is “now” to God, even though it remains contingent (undetermined) to us. An early church father, St. Epiphanius, put it succinctly: “We do not do these things because Scripture predicted it; rather, Scripture predicted it because we were going to do them, on account of the antecedent knowledge of God.” ​catholicculture.org In other words, God foreknew our acts because we freely do them; we don’t act because of God’s foreknowledge. This idea – that the event is logically prior to God’s knowledge of it – preserves free will. Foreknowledge follows the free choice, rather than determining it.

Another influential solution is the concept of divine eternity or timelessness. This view, articulated by thinkers like Boethius (6th c.) and adopted by medieval Jewish, Christian, and some Islamic philosophers, holds that God exists outside of time altogether. In Boethius’ famous definition, “Eternity… is the complete and simultaneous possession of unlimited life”, such that for an eternal God “nothing future is absent, and nothing past has flowed away” ​saet.ac.uk. God doesn’t foreknow the future as a sequence of not-yet events; rather, He beholds all times at once in an eternal “now.” This removes the paradox of foreknowledge, since God isn’t really foreknowing (in advance) at all – He’s simply seeing what for us is past, present, and future. As St. Augustine explained, to God all moments are present: “For the perfect and immutable God, there is no distinction between tenses or times; instead, all moments are held together in eternity.”​ saet.ac.uk From this viewpoint, our free decisions occur in time with their full uncertainty and openness, but God’s knowledge encompasses them in a single eternal vision. A medieval Jewish formulation of this (from Rabbi Moses Maimonides) agrees: God’s knowledge is not like a human observer predicting the future; rather, God is fundamentally beyond time and “does not change – for God, time is meaningless; future and past are equivalent.”​ seforimblog.com If God is timeless, the conflict with free will is arguably resolved: He knows what we choose, but His knowing isn’t a before that forces an after. It’s all “now” to God.

Not all philosophers have accepted divine timelessness. Some argue that genuine relationships and interactions require God to be in time. The opposing concept is often called omnitemporality or God’s everlastingness: God exists at every moment in time (with no beginning or end), rather than outside time. In this view, God can still be omniscient, but the nature of His foreknowledge might differ. If God is temporal, perhaps He knows the future not as an eternal present intuition, but via perfect reasoning or middle knowledge of all possibilities. One modern Christian philosopher, Richard Swinburne, even suggested that God could choose to limit His foreknowledge to allow for human freedom: “I do not see any reason why a theism which emphasizes God’s omnipotence and perfect freedom should regard such a God as less worthy of worship if by his own free choice he… limits his omniscience for as long as he chooses.”​ saet.ac.uk. This controversial stance aligns with a movement in contemporary Christian thought known as “Open Theism,” which posits that God knows everything that can be known, but the future free choices of creatures might not be knowable (so God, in creating free beings, allows the future to remain partly open). While open theism is rejected by classical theology in all three Abrahamic faiths, its very emergence shows the enduring appeal of safeguarding free will – even if it means redefining omniscience. Notably, a similar idea had been proposed much earlier by a Jewish medieval thinker, Rabbi Levi ben Gershon (Ralbag/Gersonides). Gersonides argued that to preserve free will, God’s perfect knowledge might encompass only general laws, not the specific decisions of each human​ etzion.org. il​etzion.org.il. He claimed that it is no defect in God to voluntarily ignore the minute details of individual choices – instead, God knows all universals and the range of possibilities. However, this solution (like open theism) was widely deemed unacceptable by mainstream Jewish thought, which “utterly rejected the Ralbag’s view” as compromising a personal God’s attention to our lives​ etzion.org. il​etzion.org.il.

Most philosophers across the Abrahamic traditions thus upheld that God does infallibly know even the tiniest details of the future, including human acts, and yet we are free. The prevalent explanations were either God’s atemporality (seeing the free act without causing it) or the mysterious nature of divine knowledge being fundamentally unlike human knowledge. Maimonides epitomizes the latter approach: he insists there is a solution to free will vs. foreknowledge, but that it is “extremely lengthy” to explain ​seforimblog.com. Ultimately, he says, “God’s knowledge is His essence and His essence is His knowledge,” entirely unlike the way humans know ​seforimblog.com. Therefore, “His knowledge concerning what will happen does not make this possible thing quit its nature… God’s knowledge…does not bring about the actualization of one of the two possibilities.” In simpler terms: because God’s knowing is qualitatively different (perfect, eternal, part of His being), we cannot analogize it to a human predictor that would impose outcomes. God can know a future free choice without that choice ceasing to be free. Think of it like this: standing on a mountain, I can see two trains on a collision course; I “foreknow” they will crash, yet my knowledge doesn’t cause the crash – the trains, under their own power, collide while I observe​ seforimblog.com. Magnify this to God’s scale: God observes (from a higher dimension of reality) all of time’s track, seeing every choice we make, but it’s still us making those choices.

Besides free will, another philosophical issue is whether God’s eternity is timeless or temporal. As noted, classical theology leaned toward a timeless God, in part to avoid the foreknowledge paradox and to uphold doctrines like divine immutability (God cannot change or gain new knowledge). If God is in time and knows “now it’s 2025, now it’s 2026,” etc., then God’s knowledge would be constantly updating, which seems at odds with absolute perfection. Boethius, Augustine, Anselm, and Aquinas all argued that a perfect, omniscient being must see all of history simultaneously ​saet.ac.uk​saet.ac.uk. On the other hand, critics of atemporality point out that the personal God of Abraham, who interacts with us, answers prayers, and acts within history, is portrayed in scripture as doing one thing after another. Can a timeless being truly act in time or respond to us? This debate continues in modern philosophy of religion. Some, like theologian Nicholas Wolterstorff or philosopher Richard Creel, contend that God is omnitemporal (present in every time) and experiences sequence along with us, yet in a divine way. Others, like Paul Helm, maintain that God’s eternity means no temporal succession at all – any appearance of sequential action is just how we perceive God’s eternal will being manifested in time. There are also hybrid models (Craig, for instance, argues God was timeless before creation and temporal since creation – a complex attempt to have the best of both views).

In summary, the philosophical dimension presents a rich tapestry of views. All agree that God is omniscient and that humans have moral responsibility for free choices – a point each tradition is keen to preserve. The tension lies in how to conceive God’s knowledge. Solutions range from the elegant paradox of an eternal now (solving the riddle by transcending time itself), to reimagining the nature of the future (as partly open or as already “there”), to asserting that God’s cognition is so beyond ours that the comparison fails. These philosophical stances often inform, and are informed by, the specific theological doctrines within Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. We now turn to those theological teachings: how each faith’s scripture and scholars articulate God’s foreknowledge, and how they reconcile it with their understanding of divine justice and human freedom.

Theological Perspectives in the Three Traditions

Judaism: “All is Foreseen, Yet Choice is Given”

In Jewish thought, God’s foreknowledge is a given premise underpinning prophecy and providence. The Hebrew Scriptures portray God as knowing and declaring future events, from the grand sweep of history to individual destinies. For example, the prophet Isaiah records God’s proclamation: “I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times what is still to come” ​biblehub.com. The Psalms similarly affirm God’s intimate knowledge of future and hidden things: “Before a word is on my tongue, You, Lord, know it completely… Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be.” (Psalm 139:4,16). Yet alongside this omniscience, the Jewish tradition places enormous emphasis on human free will and responsibility. A famous rabbinic axiom from the Mishnah states: “Everything is foreseen, yet freedom of choice is given.”​ seforimblog.com This saying (attributed to Rabbi Akiva, Pirkei Avot 3:15) succinctly captures the paradox: God knows in advance all that will happen, but we still choose freely and are accountable for our actions.

Jewish theologians and philosophers wrestled with how both could be true. Maimonides (Rabbi Moses ben Maimon, 1135–1204) offers one of the most influential discussions. In his Mishneh Torah (Laws of Repentance 5:5), he raises the question: “How can man have free will, if God knows in advance what he will do?” He insists that denying either element is unacceptable – to say God doesn’t know the future is heresy ​seforimblog.com, and to say humans have no free will undermines all of Torah’s commandments and justice. Maimonides’ answer, elaborated in The Guide for the Perplexed (Part III, ch.20), is that the problem is one of perspective and definition. God’s knowledge is not like a human’s, which is separate from our essence. Rather, “His knowledge is His essence and His essence is His knowledge,” a unity totally unlike the human knower and known ​seforimblog.com. Because of this, we cannot comprehend how God knows things – the limitations of our intellect prevent us from reconciling the two, but in God’s reality there is no conflict. Crucially, Maimonides asserts that when God knows future human actions, “His knowledge…does not make the possible thing cease to be possible”, and God’s knowing one of two possible outcomes “does not bring about the actualization of one of the two possibilities.”​ seforimblog.com In other words, God’s foreknowledge doesn’t force an outcome; it simply infallibly reflects what the person will choose. Maimonides uses an apropos quote from Scripture to underscore our epistemic humility: “For My thoughts are not your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:8) ​seforimblog.com. We shouldn’t expect to fully grasp God’s mode of knowing. This Maimonidean solution – embrace both truths, and acknowledge that God’s knowledge is inscrutable – became broadly accepted in subsequent Jewish thought.

Not all Jewish thinkers took the same route, however. A notable divergent view was put forth by Gersonides (Ralbag, 1288–1344). As mentioned earlier, Ralbag proposed that God knows the world in general principles but does not know the outcome of human free choices in particular – because those outcomes are not predetermined​ etzion.org.il​etzion.org.il. He argued that this limitation is self-imposed and not actually a flaw: God’s perfection is in knowing everything that can be known (all truths, all laws of nature, etc.), and the free human decision, being undetermined until made, isn’t a “fixed” truth to be known in advance. In fact, Ralbag suggested it would be unbecoming for God to “distract” His perfect mind with the countless mundane details of individual choices​etzion.org.il; rather, God focuses on the grand design. By removing particular free acts from the scope of foreknowledge, Ralbag solved the free will dilemma, but at great cost – most Jewish sages felt this compromised God’s omniscience and His personal relationship with us​etzion.org. il​etzion.org.il. Later commentators (and even some contemporaries of Ralbag) strongly rejected this view as too Aristotelian. Mainstream Judaism returned to the stance that God fully knows even each sparrow’s fall (cf. Matthew 10:29, a Christian verse echoing a Jewish sentiment), yet we choose freely – and the resolution is simply beyond human understanding.

Throughout Jewish history, the compatibility of God’s foreknowledge with free will is often treated as a mystery to be lived with rather than a riddle solvable by human reason alone. The Talmud encapsulates this tension by teaching, “Everything is in the hands of Heaven except the fear of Heaven” (Berakhot 33b) – i.e. all circumstances are ultimately God’s domain, but whether a person chooses to revere God is their own choice​ etzion.org. il​etzion.org.il. In practice, Judaism emphasizes personal responsibility: the High Holiday liturgy appeals to God’s foreknowledge (God “searches all hearts” and inscribes each name in the Book of Life), yet calls worshippers to repentance and ethical choice, underscoring that fate is not fatalistically sealed. Divine foreknowledge in Judaism serves to magnify God’s greatness and providence – He is never surprised, and prophecy is possible because God knows what is to come – but it does not diminish the ongoing covenantal drama in which humans must “choose life” (Deuteronomy 30:19). In modern times, few Jewish theologians have substantially deviated from the classical Maimonidean resolution. Some may draw analogies from science (saying, for instance, that God’s view of time could be like a dimension as in relativity, seeing beginning and end simultaneously), but generally the issue is not a front-burner debate in contemporary Judaism. The consensus remains: “HaKol Tzafui veha-Reshut Netunah” – All is foreseen, and yet free will is granted ​seforimblog.com.

Christianity: Providence, Predestination, and the Eternal God

Christianity inherited the Jewish affirmation of God’s omniscience and expanded on it in the context of salvation history. The New Testament speaks of God’s foreknowledge particularly with regard to His redemptive plan. For instance, the Apostle Peter says Jesus was handed over “by the definite plan and foreknowledge of God” (Acts 2:23), and Paul writes, “Those whom [God] foreknew He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son” (Romans 8:29). Such verses connect God’s knowing with God’s willing – raising the thorny question of predestination. Does God simply foreknow who will choose Him, or does He ordain it? Christian theology has navigated between these ideas over centuries, all while insisting that God’s foreknowledge is perfect and that humans are moral agents.

Early Christian thinkers like Origen and Augustine confronted the classical free will problem head-on. Augustine in particular (354–430 CE) provided influential reasoning. In his work City of God (Book V, ch.9-10), Augustine responds to the argument of Cicero that if God foreknows our actions, necessity robs free will. Augustine counters that God’s foreknowledge doesn’t impose necessity any more than our memory of the past forces the past to have happened​ catholicculture.org​. He famously stated that God’s knowledge, insofar as it is eternal, is literally of what we will do, rather than causing what we do. For Augustine, and the mainstream Christian tradition after him, it was crucial to affirm that foreknowledge does not equal predestination. God may predestine certain outcomes according to His purpose (especially a theme in Augustine’s later writings on grace), but simply knowing a free choice in advance isn’t the same as making it happen. The analogy used by St. Thomas Aquinas in the Middle Ages reiterates Boethius: a person watching from a height can see travelers simultaneously on different parts of a road – the traveler below still freely chooses his steps, but the observer sees how the journey will unfold. In Aquinas’s words, “God foreknows future contingents infallibly, but without imposing necessity on them” ​catholicculture.org​ uknowledge.uky.edu. Thus, contingency (could be otherwise) and certainty (will definitely happen as God knows) are reconciled by the fact that God’s mode of knowing is beyond temporal sequence.

Where Christianity brought unique nuance is in the interplay of foreknowledge with doctrines of grace and election. Augustine taught that, due to original sin, no one can choose good without God’s grace, and God in His mercy predestines some for salvation – yet Augustine still maintained that we have a will and our choices are voluntary. During the Protestant Reformation, debates flared: John Calvin (16th c.) emphasized God’s sovereign predestination of the elect (and by implication, the reprobate), effectively tying foreknowledge to God’s decree – God foreknows who will be saved because He decided it. Jacob Arminius and others countered that God’s foreknowledge is conditional on human choice – i.e., God foresees who will have faith, and those are predestined in that sense. The Catholic Church at the Council of Trent (1540s) and later Protestant Arminian groups insisted that human free cooperation is not negated by God’s foreknowledge or even predestining grace. Catholic thinkers also developed Molinism (after Luis de Molina, SJ) which proposed that God has “middle knowledge” – He knows not only what will happen but what any free creature would do in any hypothetical situation. By using this knowledge, God can providentially arrange circumstances without violating free will. For example, Molinists would say God knew how Paul would respond to the Damascus road encounter, and so arranged that event to ensure Paul’s conversion freely, fulfilling God’s plan. This subtle reconciliation of providence and freedom shows the lengths Christian theology went to in order to uphold both God’s exhaustive foreknowledge and meaningful human choices.

Another important aspect in Christian theology is the nature of God’s eternity. The timeless view of God became standard in Christian orthodoxy under the influence of Augustine and Aquinas (who in turn drew on Greco-Roman philosophy). The idea that God exists in an eternal Now (the totum simul of Boethius​ saet.ac.uk) was practically a dogma for scholastics. It found theological support in scriptures like 2 Peter 3:8, “With the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day,” interpreted to mean time is radically different for God. It also aligned with the doctrine of divine simplicity and immutability: God doesn’t change or gain knowledge, therefore He must already know all of history in a single, unchanging act of knowing ​saet.ac.uk​saet.ac.uk. This view, embraced by the likes of St. Anselm (“God is that than which nothing greater can be conceived”), meant that from God’s perspective, the entirety of time’s events are immediately present. It powerfully solves the foreknowledge conundrum (because God doesn’t fore-know, He eternally knows), and it also reinforces God’s transcendence.

However, in the past two centuries, some Christian theologians have revisited these assumptions. The rise of biblical theology (emphasizing the dynamic, responsive God depicted in Scripture) and engagements with time theory have led a minority to argue for a temporal God. Proponents of a temporal God (like scholars Oscar Cullmann, Jürgen Moltmann, or philosopher Nicholas Wolterstorff) suggest that God experiences sequence and can genuinely respond and even change His mind (as biblical narratives sometimes portray, e.g. Genesis 6:6, Exodus 32:14). They maintain this does not compromise God’s omniscience, because God still perfectly knows everything that happens and all possibilities – He simply doesn’t “have” the future yet, as it has not occurred. This is a minority view, but it overlaps with the aforementioned open theism, which in evangelical circles sparked vigorous debate in the late 20th century. Most of mainstream Christianity (Catholic, Orthodox, and classical Protestant) holds to the traditional stance: God is eternally omniscient, and any limitation is only apparent from the human side. Contemporary Christian philosophers continue to discuss A-theory vs B-theory of time in relation to God: some affirm that Einsteinian relativity supports the eternalist, timeless God (since an absolute simultaneity is absent, they say only a God beyond all frames can see a coherent picture), while others like Craig assert God operates in a privileged temporal frame (a kind of metaphysical time anchored in God’s own life) ​biola.edu ​saet.ac.uk.

In practical theology and devotion, Christians reconcile foreknowledge and free will with the concept of divine providence: God knows and guides the future, but does so in a way that includes our free cooperation. Thus, believers are encouraged to pray and make choices, trusting that God’s plan (which He foreknew) will unfold without turning them into puppets. It is often said, “God writes straight with crooked lines,” implying that human free actions (even wrong ones) are foreseen and woven into God’s overarching purpose. The convergence with Judaism here is strong: both see the resolution as ultimately mysterious yet held in God’s wisdom. Christianity’s distinctive doctrines of grace and predestination add a layer of complexity, but not a fundamentally different solution. As the Catholic Catechism puts it: “To God, all moments of time are present in their immediacy. When therefore He establishes His eternal plan… He includes in it each person’s free response to His grace.” In other words, God’s eternal knowledge already takes into account our free responses​ catholicculture.org​. Thus, foreknowledge and human freedom co-exist by divine intellect. Where Christians have diverged (Calvinist vs Arminian, etc.) is on whether foreknowledge implies God’s pre-selection of individuals’ destinies or simply His awareness. But on the whole, Christianity joins Judaism in affirming: God knows the future completely, yet we freely shape our own paths within God’s sovereign plan.

Islam: Divine Decree (Qadar) and Human Effort

Islam emphatically upholds God’s foreknowledge as part of His absolute sovereignty and omnipotence. In Islamic creed, belief in Al-Qadar (Divine Decree) – which includes God’s knowledge of and ordaining of all that will happen – is one of the six articles of faith. The Qur’an and Hadith are replete with statements of Allah’s total knowledge and control over future events. For example, the Qur’an declares: “With Him are the keys of the unseen; none knows them except Him. He knows what is on the land and in the sea. Not a leaf falls but He knows it… all is in a clear Record.” (Qur’an 6:59). Another verse says, “No disaster strikes upon the earth or among yourselves except that it is in a register before We bring it about.” (57:22). These texts underline that nothing happens outside the knowledge and decree of God, from the tiniest leaf to the largest calamity. A Hadith (Prophetic tradition) further illustrates this scope of foreknowledge: the Prophet Muhammad said the first thing God created was the Pen, and He commanded it, “Write!” – “O Lord, what shall I write?” – “Write everything that will occur until the Hour [Day of Judgment].” Thus all events were inscribed by divine command.

Yet, like Judaism and Christianity, Islam also holds humans responsible for their choices, creating a similar tension between God’s omniscience/omnipotence and human free will. Historically, this led to debates among Muslim theologians. In the early Islamic centuries, two theological tendencies emerged: the Qadariyya (or Muʿtazilites, associated with “asserting qadar” in the sense of human free will) and the Jabriyya (“compulsionists” who leaned toward fatalism). The Qadarites/Muʿtazilites argued that justice demands that humans originate their own acts – otherwise, it would be unjust for God to punish or reward them. They upheld God’s omniscience but often taught that God’s knowledge does not force our actions; some went as far as to say man’s will has independent efficacy (a controversial stance, since it might limit God’s control). The Jabriyya, conversely, said humans have no real free will – we are compelled by God’s decree in all things. The Quranic revelation seemed to support both perspectives in different places: some verses strongly imply predestination (e.g. “Allah guides whom He wills, and leads astray whom He wills”), while others imply choice (e.g. “Whoever wills, let him believe; whoever wills, let him disbelieve” – 18:29).

Islamic orthodoxy (especially in Sunni Islam) formulated a middle position chiefly through the Ashʿari school of theology (founded by al-Ashʿarī, 10th c.). Ashʿarite doctrine affirmed that everything that happens is by the will and decree of Allah – He has foreknown and pre-ordained all events from eternity – yet human beings have a type of acquired freedom. They introduced the concept of “kasb” (acquisition): God creates the human act, but the human being “acquires” it by their intention or will, making them responsible for it. In this subtle teaching, when you decide to do something, it is really God who creates that outcome at that moment, but because you had the will to do it, you are accountable for it. Al-Ghazālī (1058–1111), one of the greatest Ashʿari theologians, helped popularize this view and also defended the extent of God’s knowledge. In his polemic The Incoherence of the Philosophers, al-Ghazālī attacked the falāsifa (like Avicenna) for, among other things, saying that God only knows universals and not particulars. Ghazālī insisted that such a limitation is false – God knows every particular detail and event, without exception. As he put it, God’s knowledge encompasses even “an ant’s footsteps on a solid rock in a dark night.” This vivid phrase (attributed to Ghazālī or other scholars) echoes the Islamic conviction that no detail escapes Allah’s awareness. It also aligns with the Qur’an’s imagery (the falling leaf example) of all particulars being in God’s “Record.”

Theologically, Muslims describe God as Al-ʿAlīm (The All-Knowing) and often emphasize that He is beyond time and space. A contemporary Muslim explanation states: “Divine providence is a reality that exists beyond time and space… for Allah there is no past, present, or future as He alone regulates time.”​ yaqeeninstitute.org​ In Islamic understanding, time itself is part of creation (as also understood in Judaism and Christianity). God, being the Creator, is not bound by the temporal order. The Prophet’s saying “Allah Himself is time” is interpreted to mean God is the Lord of time’s flow​ yaqeeninstitute.org – He is outside the timeline and can decree events without “waiting” for time to pass. The Qur’an, in a couple of places, uses the relativity of time to hint at this transcendence: “A day with your Lord is like a thousand years of those you count” (32:5), and “The angels ascend to Him in a Day the measure of which is fifty thousand years” (70:4). Muslim exegetes note that such verses “assert that God is not bound by our temporal framework.”​​ thequran.love They often conclude, as one summary puts it, “God, who created time, can stretch or compress it as He wills, and He perceives all of history in a single view.” ​thequran.love This mirrors the timeless view of God found in other faiths and gives a theological basis for God’s comprehensive foreknowledge: from His vantage, all events – past or future to us – are known and controlled.

Despite this high view of sovereignty, Islam strongly affirms human accountability. The Quran frequently appeals to people to believe and do good, and warns of judgment for those who choose evil. The resolution of Qadar (divine decree) and human freedom in Islam is often described as a matter of surrender and trust. The Qur’an advises believers to take action and then rely on God, acknowledging “Allah has the power over all things” but also that “man can have nothing but what he strives for” (53:39). In practice, Muslims are to live as if their choices matter entirely, even though they know in the back of their minds that Allah’s plan is all-encompassing. A hadith illustrates this: When the Prophet was asked about whether we should just rely on destiny, he said, “Act, for each of you will have his path made easy (by God) for what he was created.” In other words, do your part and trust that God’s foreknowledge and decree work through your choices. This attitude is summed up by the common phrase “Inshā’Allāh” (“If God wills”), acknowledging that the future is ultimately in God’s hands, even as one plans and acts.

Islamic theology also entertains the concept of conditional destinies. Some texts speak of God “erasing or confirming whatever He wills”, with the “Mother of the Book” (Umm al-Kitāb) with Him​ yaqeeninstitute.org. This has been interpreted to mean that at a human level, certain decrees can change (for instance, prayer or charity might ward off an impending misfortune), but such changes too are within God’s eternal knowledge. In essence, God knew from the start that you would pray at a certain moment, and thus He had ordained conditionally that “if he prays, I will avert X; if not, X will happen.” So even apparent changes in fate are accounted for in the divine foreknowledge. This nuanced view allows for human initiative (prayer, good deeds) to “change one’s destiny” in a proximate sense, without escaping God’s ultimate plan. Shi’a Islam has the concept of Bada’ (change in the divine plan as perceived by humans), which similarly emphasizes that God may reveal one destiny to people but then replace it with another – not because God didn’t know, but as a test or out of mercy, etc., all along contained in His perfect knowledge.

A classical Islamic resolution, much like Maimonides’, is that the exact nature of how God’s decree and human free will interplay is beyond full human understanding. The Qur’an poses the question of guidance and astray-ment as a matter known only to God. The stance of humility is encouraged: “No soul knows what it will earn tomorrow” (31:34) – we don’t even know our own future, though God does, which reminds us of our dependence. When pressed philosophically, some later Muslim theologians (e.g. Māturīdites) taught that God’s pre-knowledge of human actions does not cause them; rather, He knows them as the acts of His creatures. They drew a subtle distinction between God’s will (which can decree that a being has the freedom to act) and God’s knowledge (which comprehends what that being will choose). In any case, denying either element was seen as deviance: one extreme would be to say God doesn’t fully know or decree (undermining omnipotence), the other to say humans are mere puppets (undermining justice and moral responsibility). Orthodox Islam thus holds both: “While all things have already been decreed from eternity, Allah has the power to change destiny based upon the choices we make.”​ ​yaqeeninstitute.org This paradoxical statement from a modern Islamic analysis captures it well – everything is written, but you don’t know what’s written for you, and your choices are the means by which the written unfolds, so you must choose as if unwritten. The Qur’an itself encourages this balance, for example: “God does not change the condition of a people until they change what is in themselves” (13:11), implying human effort matters, yet ultimately it is God who changes their condition (His prerogative).

In contemporary Muslim thought, discussions of God’s foreknowledge sometimes intersect with science and philosophy much as in Christian thought. Some Muslim writers point out the coherence of the Islamic view of a God beyond time with modern physics: if time began at the Big Bang, an uncreated God must be outside of time. The block universe idea can be invoked to illustrate how God sees all events. Others engage the topic of determinism: interestingly, concepts in quantum physics or chaos theory that allow for uncertainty have been used to argue that God’s omniscience isn’t the same as fatalistic determinism – God can know indeterminate outcomes without things being strictly mechanistic. But these are speculative reconciliations. In mainstream preaching and scholarship (like the 2017 paper from Yaqeen Institute ​yaqeeninstitute.org​), the focus is on spiritual understanding: Allah’s knowledge is perfect and our minds are limited. As one writer put it, human beings “can only conceive of realities within the framework of time and space… we are simply incapable of conceiving [Allah’s decree] with our limited rationality” ​yaqeeninstitute.org. Thus, Muslims are urged to have faith that God’s foreknowledge and our free will are reconciled in a way that befits His wisdom, and to concentrate on doing good within the life we’ve been given.

Convergences and Divergences: A Comparative View

It is remarkable that Judaism, Christianity, and Islam – despite their many differences – converge on the fundamental affirmation that God is omniscient and knows the future completely, and yet human free will and responsibility are real. All three traditions developed sophisticated intellectual frameworks to defend both truths. Each rejected a simple fatalism that would render human effort meaningless: for Jews, the Torah’s commands and God’s justice require free will; for Christians, the moral law and the offer of salvation imply genuine choice; for Muslims, the very concept of divine judgment (reward and punishment in the Hereafter) presupposes that we choose our path. Consequently, all wrestled with the paradox of a known future that is not coerced – and interestingly, many of their solutions sound similar. The notion that God is outside of time appears in Jewish medieval philosophy, Christian doctrine, and Islamic thought, providing a common resolution: God’s foreknowledge doesn’t eliminate freedom because God isn’t bound by the temporal sequence. Likewise, the analogy of God’s knowledge not “causing” events is found across the board (the rabbinic “everything is foreseen but freedom is given,” the Christian “Scripture predicted it because we will do it”​ catholicculture.org, the Islamic “we do not do things because it is written; it is written because we will do them,” as some Islamic commentators phrase it). There is a shared intuition that the direction of dependency is key: our choices are up to us, and God’s knowledge, being perfect, simply encompasses those choices. In Scholastic philosophy terms, God’s knowledge of future contingents is “knowledge of vision” – He sees what will in fact happen, but the happening belongs to the creature’s free will.

Another convergence is the insistence that God’s knowledge is qualitatively different from human knowledge. Maimonides said it outright, and Christian and Muslim theologians echo it. This acts as a safeguard against making too-human comparisons that lead to paradox. All traditions caution that there is mystery here. For example, a common Islamic saying when faced with such questions is “Qadar is the secret of Allah’s universe” – a mystery ultimately hidden. Similarly, Christian theologian Karl Barth once called God’s timeless eternity the “unknown dimension” that solves these dilemmas beyond our full grasp. In Judaism, when all rational explanations are done, one still says “God is one and His knowledge is one, we cannot know it” (a very Maimonidean stance). Thus humility in the face of divine transcendence is a theme in all three faiths.

However, there are notable divergences in emphasis and doctrinal framing. One difference lies in how strongly predestination is asserted. In Islam, the doctrine of Qadar is very explicit and forms part of creedal statements (e.g. the Sunni Creed of al-Tahawi). Classical Islamic culture encouraged a deep resignation (tafwiḍ) to God’s will: for instance, saying “Insha’Allah” and “Masha’Allah” (what God has willed) regularly, and attributing success or failure to God’s decree. Some early Muslims even worried that strong belief in predestination could lead to complacency, so they balanced it with teachings on effort. Christianity, too, has strands of strong predestinarian theology (notably in Augustinian and Calvinist thought), but it also has large segments (Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Arminian Protestant) that play down predestination in favor of free cooperation. Judaism generally put less theological focus on predestination; while God’s providence is a given, Jewish teachings more often stress personal choice, prayer, and repentance as genuinely affecting one’s fate (e.g. the idea that “Prayer, repentance and charity can avert the severe decree” in the High Holy Day liturgy). There was no Jewish equivalent of Calvinism or a doctrine of the “elect” versus the damned decided before birth – such ideas would clash with the Jewish ethos that all Israel has a share in the world to come (Mishnah Sanhedrin 10:1) and that one’s actions determine reward or punishment. Thus, one could say: Islam and some Christian theologies leaned a bit more to God’s sovereignty side (without denying free will), whereas Judaism and other Christian theologies leaned a bit more to human free will side (without denying God’s foreknowledge). These are differences in tone and emphasis rather than outright contradictions.

Another divergence is in the philosophical articulation of God’s relationship to time. Christian theology developed a robust philosophical language of timelessness, heavily influenced by Greco-Roman philosophy. Terms like “atemporal,” “simultaneity,” “immutability,” etc., were thoroughly explored by Christian scholastics. Medieval Jewish philosophers, operating in the same intellectual milieu, did similarly (Maimonides speaks of God’s knowledge in the context of His eternal unity). Islamic kalam also posited that God is pre-eternal (no beginning) and everlasting with no end, and some like ibn al-Arabi (Sufi mystic) described God as beyond time; but the detailed debates among Muslim thinkers often revolved more around causality and occasionalism (how God’s will relates to events) than the nature of time per se. In recent times, Christian analytic philosophy has a whole sub-discipline on God and time (with views like eternalism vs presentism, God’s time vs metaphysical time, etc.), whereas in Islamic discourse, these questions are usually subsumed under qadar or are less formally debated. That said, the underlying concept – that time is part of creation and God transcends it – is common to all three.

In terms of responding to modern science, Christian theologians have been the most visibly active, perhaps due to the extensive Christian engagement with science in the West. We saw how figures like William Lane Craig interact with relativity theory, and others have written on quantum mechanics and divine omniscience. There’s even a field of “science and religion” where concepts of time from physics are dialogued with theology (for example, the idea of a multiverse and God’s knowledge, or the arrow of time and eschatology). In Islam, such specific engagement is growing but not as prominent; however, one finds Muslim thinkers noting that relativity’s view of time vindicates the Quranic statements that time is relative for God ​thequran.love. The block universe idea sometimes appears in Muslim discussions as a way to imagine God’s decree: since past and future are all “present” to God, destiny is fixed in that block, yet from our perspective we move through it choosing our path. Judaism, particularly through some scientifically informed rabbis or Jewish scientists, might also draw parallels – for instance, the late Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan and others spoke about time as a creation (in Kabbalah, time and space emanate from God’s will) which harmonizes with modern cosmology. But by and large, these science-related insights complement rather than overhaul the classical understandings in each faith.

Where the traditions diverge more clearly is in specific theological narratives around foreknowledge. Christianity’s unique element is tying foreknowledge into the drama of sin and salvation – e.g., debates on whether God predestined the Fall of Adam, or merely permitted it knowing He would send Christ as Savior, etc. Islam’s narrative revolves around Allah’s wisdom and human test: God knew Adam and Eve would slip (and says so in Qur’an that He would place them on earth), yet that was part of His plan to create mankind to vicegerency on earth. Judaism’s narrative is covenantal: God foreknew Israel’s failures and triumphs (as seen in Deuteronomy where Moses predicts Israel will stray and return), but He remains in relationship, allowing human history to play out as a partnership with God rather than a micromanaged script. Each tradition has figures who struggled with the implications: for example, in Christianity, some have asked “Did Judas Iscariot have a choice or was he foreordained to betray Jesus?” – the Gospels suggest he fulfilled prophecy, yet woe to him (implying responsibility). In Islam, a comparable question: “If God already wrote that someone is to be a believer or disbeliever, can they do otherwise?” The Prophet responded to this by essentially saying everyone is facilitated toward what they were created for – implying that God’s foreknowledge and decree align with the deepest truth of that person’s own soul. In Judaism, questions arise like: “If God knew the Israelites would worship the Golden Calf, why did He allow it?” – and answers range from testing to allowing free development. Thus, each faith works out the tension not only abstractly, but in storytelling and doctrine within their scriptures.

Finally, the practical upshot in all three is an ethical call to trust and responsibility. Since God’s foreknowledge is perfect, believers are invited to trust that nothing surprises God – He is in control, giving comfort in uncertainty. At the same time, since from our vantage point the future is unknown and dependent on our choices, we must act righteously and wisely. As the Islamic scholar Ibn al-ʿAttā’illah beautifully said, “Take not advantage of the delay of divine decree (in executing judgment) to persist in sin, for the foreclosure of possibility is in an instant.” Meaning: just because God’s plan is hidden, do not think you can get away with evil – when the time comes, it happens swiftly. In a Jewish vein, one might quote Rabbi Akiva: “Everything is foreseen; and free will is given… and the world is judged with goodness” (Avot 3:15). And a Christian might cite St. Paul: “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to act according to His good purpose” (Philippians 2:12–13). These sayings, each in their own way, capture the balanced view: live as if it all depends on you, knowing all along it actually depends on God. The convergence here is profound – the interplay of divine sovereignty and human freedom becomes a source of spiritual depth rather than mere logical puzzle. Each tradition, through centuries of reflection, has come to see the issue less as a contradiction to be resolved than as a truth to be held in tension, inspiring awe at God’s knowledge and urging sincere human effort.

Conclusion

The concept of God’s foreknowledge in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam stands at the intersection of faith and reason, of eternity and time. Scientific advances have given us new metaphors – a relativistic block universe, multiple time dimensions, quantum indeterminacy – that sometimes bolster and sometimes challenge classical views of an all-knowing Deity. Philosophy has dissected the problem of future contingents and free will, offering diverse solutions from timeless eternity to self-limited omniscience. And theology, rooted in scripture and tradition, has articulated doctrines like God’s eternity, predestination, and divine decree to safeguard both God’s omniscience and our moral freedom.

In the end, all three Abrahamic faiths affirm a transcendent God for whom time is an artifact of His creation, “the High and Exalted One who inhabits eternity” (Isaiah 57:15). They teach that God’s knowledge of the future is exhaustive – He knows the end of history and the end of each of our stories. Yet this omniscience doesn’t make us robots; rather, it assures believers that God’s plan is wise and sovereign, even as we navigate choices day by day. The traditions converge in portraying God as one who, from above time, can declare “My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all My purpose” ​ biblehub.com, and simultaneously plead with us, “Choose you this day whom you will serve.” That paradox – divine certainty and human uncertainty – is not fully comprehensible to our minds bound by time. As Maimonides would say, the resolution “is longer than the earth and broader than the sea”, too complex for us​ seforimblog.com. Yet, through faith and reflection, Jews, Christians, and Muslims find peace in knowing that the God who knows the future also guides and loves His creatures. Each tradition, in its own idiom, encourages the faithful to live righteously, pray fervently, and trust wholly in God’s providence. In that way, the philosophical dilemmas, while intellectually fascinating, give way to a devotional confidence: the future is known to God, and that is enough. Our task is not to penetrate God’s foreknowledge, but to align our wills with the goodness of His will – for as all three traditions agree, God’s knowledge of the future never nullifies the duty and the gift we have in the present: to choose the good freely. ​seforimblog.com ​catholicculture.org