Reconstruction

I used to hold to an inerrant, exhaustive, systematic theology that answered every question. Which for a twenty year old, is almost unfathomably arrogant. My system remained intact for over a decade. Confirmation bias took any new idea I encountered and either amalgamated it into what I already believed, or discarded it as false.

I no longer believe in my ability to build or discover such a system. I am bound by the confines of words that can not accurately articulate reality and the confines of a mind that can not fully fathom its Creator. I am misguided by my assumptions, influenced by my desires, and limited by my perspective as an American, suburban, 90’s child. How close can I get to knowing truth, let alone truth about God, and how close is close enough? This line of thinking has reverberations.

But I think this is as it should be. The mysterious things belong to the Lord and it is the glory of God to conceal a matter (Deuteronomy 29:29, Proverbs 25:2). I don’t think God ever meant for us to answer every philosophical or theological riddle, which may explain why even the wisest of us have failed to do so. 

There are eternal mysteries, and the proper response to them is not to try to solve them which can only lead to error, but to bow in humility and awe. Even in such an enlightened and informed age as ours, some paths can only be walked by faith, not by sight.

The environment in which I was raised effectively undermined my faith in my feelings and emotions. I know I can’t trust them. But my intellect is equally fallible, and I was not prepared to encounter the extent of its insufficiency. The trick is to recognize my insufficiency without being paralyzed by it. Because while my faith is not in my faith, the correctness of my theology, or my ability to live it, neither should I scurry to the other side of the boat and put faith in my doubt – my inability to ever know anything.

And I do believe. Christ’s claims of divinity and the empty tomb imply a great deal about who Jesus was and what He came to do. This too has reverberations.

In an accusation that could have been directed at me, Jesus told the religious leaders of His day, “You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; it is these that testify about Me; and you are unwilling to come to Me so that you may have life.” (John 5:39-40) We thought our study of Scripture and doctrine would lead to life. But they only point to the One who does. If my spiritual journey ends with wisdom, moralism, or anything other than Him, I’m doing it wrong. The Bible reveals Christ, and it is a place where we encounter, not new thoughts or rules, but God Himself.

“These things have been written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing you may have life in His name.” (John 20:31)

My faith is not in the Bible or an organized religion. It is in a living God. He didn’t lay out a way to eternal life; He is the way, the truth, and the life. (John 14:6) This is my foundation, even when I feel incompetent to build anything on it.

“For no one can lay any other foundation than what has been laid down. That foundation is Jesus Christ.” (1 Corinthians 3:11)

There is a final problem. A faith built on ideas can remain an intellectual exercise, but a faith in God Himself demands more: 

“Therefore, everyone who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain fell, the rivers rose, and the winds blew and pounded that house. Yet it didn’t collapse, because its foundation was on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and doesn’t act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. The rain fell, the rivers rose, the winds blew and pounded that house, and it collapsed. It collapsed with a great crash.” (Matthew 7:24-27)

Both constructors heard and knew the same things. The only difference is one acted on it and the other didn’t. This is the difference between theological construction that stands or falls.

What am I doing with what I know? Studying books, listening to sermons and podcasts, and going to conferences to gain more information may just be elegant ways of avoiding the real work of applying the information I already have. Knowledge does me no good if it fails to make me more like Christ. Otherwise, we are like a man who looks in the mirror, but then walks away, and forgets what he’s seen (James 1:22-25). 

This faith in God I am discovering now feels far more dangerous and unsteady than the faith in a systematic theology I had a few years ago. It feels less grounded. But maybe it’s supposed to. After all, we weren’t made for this earth – we were made for the sky.

J.

March 5, 2021