Everything I say might be wrong.

The first thing I want you to know is that anything I say in these e-mails might be wrong.  

 

Not that I try to say things that aren't right. I vigorously seek the truth. But I also know myself... my limits... and the longer I live, the more I realize God's Truth is far broader and infinite than I could ever possibly master.

 

I have a lot of convictions. With a few exceptions, most of my convictions are tentative.  

 

Why would someone who has a Ph.D. in Theology be tentative about anything???

 

"When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with the humble is wisdom" (Proverbs 11:2, ESV).  

  

I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Because hundreds and thousands of Christian theologians and mystics throughout history can testify to the same experience. 

 

I can only really share that secret through a bit of a story.

 

Back when I started at seminary, like most every other first-year student, I thought I knew everything. We were all pretty full of ourselves. We were totally blind to our arrogance, of course... because that's usually how it works.

 

We were like teenagers who thought their parents were "backwards" and maybe a little dumb.

 

However, by the time I graduated, I realized there were a few things I didn't know. I was still pretty full of myself, of course. I continued after finishing my M.Div. into a Ph.D. program... because I was still under the impression that the answer to the recognition that I don't know everything was to learn more.  

 

Silly me.

 

After nearly a decade in ministry - and eventually earning my Ph.D. in Theology in 2017 - I came to realize that I knew nothing at all.  

 

This doesn't just apply to seminary students. That was my path. It might not be yours. There's nothing about my particular background that gives me a leg-up on anyone.

 

But this progression from knowing to not-knowing, from thinking we are true "masters of divinity" (they gave me that degree once... how silly is that?) to realizing we're spiritual paupers, is the path of the saints.  

 

It's what Jesus meant when he said that the poor in spirit are blessed (Matt. 5:30). Spiritual poverty is the path to a pure heart... and that comes with a promise: "for they shall see God." (Matt 5:8).  

 

It's the journey God wants all of us to take... 

 

You will experience the same thing in your own way (probably without as much student loan debt as my path incurred) if you seek to know God more deeply. 

 

Because the Lord does this same work in everyone who is open to His Spirit... who seeks to go deeper... to get closer to Him.

 

The more we come to know the Lord, the more we come to grips with His infinite mystery, the more we arrive in the end with more reverence and awe than conviction.  

 

We come to realize that faith was never about learning all the right things, getting all the right doctrines in our minds. Doctrine has a role, don't get me wrong, but that comes later. It comes from the heart's desire to know more. Unless it comes from the heart, it's probably going to be misguided (or lead to dogmatic religion that can be angry, bitter, and consumed by the obsession to be right rather than righteous).

 

Jesus taught a faith comparable to a child's trust... the kind of trust that even an infant has at his (or her) mother's breast.

 

Spiritual growth takes us full-circle. We start like little children who accept everything with wonder. And if we grow up in the Spirit... eventually we learn that all the "systems" and structures of our belief aren't as definite as we thought.

 

Even children in primary school need "rules" posted in their classrooms. When they get a little older the "rule posters" come down. Spiritual growth is a lot like that. Sometimes we need definite structure/rules (even hard-and-fast doctrines) when we're young. But when life hits... when we go through the valley (hardship, trouble, temptation, loss, suffering, etc.) we learn that the structures alone don't provide a lot of guidance.

 

Because life isn't as neat and clean as the way we're taught the faith as children. But that's okay. It just means it's time for us to move beyond "spiritual milk" into the meatier matters of true discipleship (1 Peter 2:2).

 

We become like the little children again. Just as Jesus told us we should.

 

"And He called a child to Himself and set him before them, and said, “Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 18:2-5).

 

Notice, he didn't tell the kids gathered, 'Hold up, yo! You need to be more like adults before you can handle this stuff. It's too complicated for you!" No, he told the adults to be more like the children.

 

Spiritual maturity isn't about memorizing Bible verses, mastering or debating doctrine, or gaining knowledge about God.

 

It's about trusting like a child must - with an open heart. It's about receiving every good gift, every need, from the Father who embraces us and shows us his heart. 

 

When we know the Father's heart more intimately (which we see through Christ as He's revealed to us in the Holy Spirit) the rules/regulations/dogmas become secondary. Doctrine is still important. But not because we have to get all our thoughts right in our heads, or because we have to be "right" (or because we're afraid of being "wrong"). It's a handle, something we can hold onto as we go through life. More than that, it's a source of hope. But it's not about getting everything right in our heads. That kind of head-learning is sometimes necessary in our spiritual infancy. But the trials and troubles in life show us that it's not at all about what we know. It's about what we hold onto when the winds/waves/hail of the storm of life are beating against us. It's a lifeline.

 

More on that tomorrow. Because the kind of "knowing" that God desires isn't the kind we can get from books and academic study. It's deeper than that. 

 

Blessings,

Judah