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It's a phrase meant to underscore the limits of our knowledge. We use it to describe our lack of understanding. It's a way of admitting that we just don't know everything. Having reached the end of our abilities to comprehend, we roll our eyes heavenward and say with varying measures of exasperation, confusion, and befuddlement, "God knows." "God knows why that happened." "God knows what I was thinking." "God knows why she did that." I suppose in some way it's a statement of confidence: if we don't know, at least God does. "God knows how we're going to get out of this." "God knows I didn't mean for it to come out that way." There's some comfort in that, isn't there? "God knows." I don't know. But God does.

Indeed, the power of God to know all things is one of the bedrock values of Christian faith. God is all-knowing. "Omniscient" is the fancy word for it. God knows because God is God. There are things we don't know because we are not God. We may be efficient, and we may be deficient, but we're certainly not omniscient. Yet God is.

I believe that and I trust that and I teach that, but I have to tell you that I'm thinking about that a little differently after reading this passage from Isaiah. Here seems to be an instance in which God does not know. Here's a time when it seems even God is baffled.

God's bewilderment is cast in the story of a vineyard owner who does everything right. He has cleared the land on a fertile hill and selected choice vines to plant. No shortcuts, no skimping on costs. Nothing but the best. In addition to the excellence of soil and plants, the owner has spared no effort in constructing some nice features: a watchtower is built, a wine vat is made. Everything about the vineyard is perfect, it would seem: good land, good soil, good vines, good accessories. In a real sense, the vineyard had become an object of devotion and affection for the owner. It is the love of his life, the passion of his soul. Having invested much of himself and much of his resources in it, the vineyard owner sits back and awaits the harvest, naturally expecting a healthy return on his investment. God knows he deserves it. God knows he's done all that he can.

Amazingly, astoundingly, the vineyard owner's expectations are unfulfilled. In place of fine grapes, the vines produce only wild, unmanageable grapes. He can't believe it. He did his best for that vineyard, yet it failed to produce. How could it happen? How could this be? Only God knows.

But in this story, not even God knows because the baffled owner of the vineyard is God and the vines that failed to meet expectation are the people of God. God gave them much, sparing no cost, no effort, no love. God gave them the best of everything. Yet God's beloved vineyard could only produce wild grapes, not good for much of anything. God's beloved people could not live up to their lover's expectations.

The vineyard owner asks in exasperation, "What more was there to do for my vineyard that I have not done in it?" (5:4). Not even God knows the answer to that. There is pain and disappointment as it seems even God has reached the limits of what can be accomplished. God knows you can't make someone love you.

If you think religion is just about rules and regulations, then this passage has to make you think twice about that. If you believe that God is some kind of super-puppeteer, who pulls each string and effects our every move, then this passage has to call that belief into question. If you understand God to be an unmoved taskmaster without feeling or concern or interest, then this passage has to make you reevaluate that.

Here is a vulnerable God. A God who loves what God has made, who is invested in creation. God longs for love to be returned and aches for potential to be realized and yearns for righteousness and justice from those whom God has created. Yes, God has expectations. Like any lover, God has expectations. When those expectations are not met, God is not free from pain and disappointment.

We know what that's like, don't we? We know what it's like to give ourselves to another and have that love rejected. We know what it's like when someone we care about disappoints us. We know what it's like when even our best efforts don't seem to be good enough.

As any gardener knows, sometimes the plants just don't grow. The soil is fine. There is enough sunlight and water and care. But the plants don't grow. Is that the gardener's fault? Sometimes children make a bad choice. Is that the parents' fault? Sometimes a spouse makes a wrong decision. Is that the partner's fault? Sometimes a friend takes a mistaken course of action. Is that your fault? The vineyard owner did everything he could for his vineyard. The grapes were still wild and unmanageable. Is that his fault?

No. No, it's not. At some point, we have to be responsible for what we have done or what we haven't done. At some point, we have to accept responsibility for the mistakes we've made. The wild, unmanageable grapes are not the fault of the vineyard owner who did all that he could. The child's bad choice is not the fault of the parent who did all she could. The wrong decision by a spouse is not the fault of her partner who did all that he could. The mistaken action of a friend is not your fault if you did all you could. God knows it's not your fault. God knows it's not God's fault.

All of us, children and parents, husbands and wives, friends and lovers, have a responsibility for what we do and who we are. We are responsible to ourselves, responsible to one another, and responsible to God. Responsibility is one of our least favorite words, isn't it? We'd much rather cast blame than accept responsibility. "It's my parents' fault." "It's my minister's fault." "It's my friend's fault." "It's my enemies' fault." "It's the government's fault." "It's the system's fault." "It's God fault." Just fill in the blank. We do it all the time. As someone has said, it's a lot easier to point the finger than the thumb.

But sooner or later, we have to realize that we are who we are because of what we have done, because of choices we have made and actions we have taken. We have followed twisted paths and worshiped false gods and brought all of this upon ourselves. God knows there wasn't anything else to be done for those grapes. They came out wild and unmanageable, in spite of the vineyard owner's best efforts.

There are consequences to the wildness of the vines, just as there are consequences to the waywardness of our lives. Our bad choices and poor decisions and mistaken actions have consequences. A big part of accepting responsibility for what we have done is understanding that there will be consequences. Often times those consequences will be difficult.

In this passage, the vineyard is torn down and trampled. The disappointed owner tears it up. It is utterly destroyed. God knows the consequences of failing to meet the vineyard owner's expectations are quite severe (5:5-6).

Bad choices can end relationships. Poor decisions can wreck families. Mistaken actions can ruin marriages. Bowing down to false gods can deplete our souls. Worshiping idols can destroy us. There are serious consequences, God knows. The consequences are serious, yet we are feeble. Our best efforts are frequently ineffective. Our good intentions are seldom enough. In spite of what we'd like to do and what we try to do, we are only human. We wallow in sin, neither as responsible as we should be or as responsive as we could be. Our inabilities have serious consequences, God knows.

But, God also knows that there is no consequence that cannot be redeemed; no choice so bad, no decision so poor, no action so mistaken that God cannot forgive it and even use it to transform us.

The vineyard owner, baffled and befuddled by his unproductive vineyard, will not give up on the idea that vines can be grown that will bear good fruit. Heartbreak and disappointment compel him to tear down the vines that produced only wild grapes. That's where this passage ends, but the story goes on. And love motivates the vineyard owner to plant anew. Growing fine grapes is his life's passion and the vineyard owner will not be thwarted. God knows that an unruly people can be made whole and complete, that the corruption of sin can be taken away, that lives can be changed.

In the rubble of this failed attempt to grow fine grapes, the persistent vineyard owner starts again with a new vine, a vine that cannot be found anywhere else, a vine that he fashioned himself. You might even say it was a vine that came from his very heart.

In the rubble of our failures and mistakes, the God who will not give up sent Jesus Christ, a Lord to worship, a Savior to help, a Teacher to learn from. One of peace and wisdom and salvation, one who cannot be found anywhere else, one from the very heart of God.

God planted Jesus in the vineyard of the earth, and Jesus says to all of us under the burden of responsibility and consequence, "I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing" (John 15:5).

At last, the vineyard owner has found a way to grow good grapes. At last, there is a way for us to flourish as our creator intends. At last, there is a way to redeem our failings and restore our souls. At last, there is a way to escape the tyranny of idols who demand much but provide nothing. At last, the vineyard is beautiful and productive, as the grapes are formed and nourished by the vine from the very heart of God, Jesus Christ.

Ducking responsibility and reeling from the consequences of what we have done, these days and this life often feel wild and unmanageable. God knows there's another way. God knows we need it.