“When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. For now we see only a reflection, as in a mirror, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. And now faith, hope, and love remain, these three, and the greatest of these is love.”
1 Corinthians 13:11-13 NRSVue
“For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic elements of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who lives on milk, being still an infant, is unskilled in the word of righteousness. But solid food is for the mature, for those whose faculties have been trained by practice to distinguish good from evil.”
“Therefore let us go on toward perfection, leaving behind the basic teaching about Christ and not laying again the foundation: repentance from dead works and faith toward God, instruction about baptisms and laying on of hands, resurrection of the dead and eternal judgment.”
Hebrews 5:12-14; 6:1-2 NRSVue
These passages come to mind a lot as I have worked through different aspects of faith and belief. From theological ideas about angels and demons to “biblical” practices of parenting to even fundamental beliefs about salvation and hell, I seem to be going more and more into sitting comfortably with uncertainty.
My earlier self would have said “thinking like a child” to be akin to what the author of Hebrews calls the “basic” teachings: “repentance from dead works and faith toward God, instruction about baptisms and laying on of hands, resurrection of the dead and eternal judgment.” And the adult ways of thinking would relate to the complicated aspects of theology: free will / predestination, supernatural gifts, eschatology, etc. Therefore a mature Christian is someone who knows their theology well and would have the biblical answer for life’s challenges and complexities. I would admire those who could quote chapter and verse and apply biblical narratives and theological angles to… well… everything. I aspired to be that assured and confident. I wanted to have that kind of certainty; to be able to declare without reservation, 🎶 “I will not moved. I will not be shaken.” 🎶
But that seems childish now.
As an adult, I find that those who offer confident and certain answers often have simplistic/childish views on life. It comes too quickly. It lacks compassion. It seems to flatten the complexity — and beauty and pain — of life. And I think people understand this. If someone was grieving the death of a loved one or facing the prospect of losing their job, quoting
“All things work together for the good—“ ::SLAP::.
“Everything happens for a reason—“ ::SLAP::.
“For I know the plans I hav—“ ::SLAP::.
“Do not be anxi—“ really???
As an adult working out faith in the complexity of life, I find that learning to sit in uncertainty while still pursuing goodness and wholeness to be more true to honoring what Jesus came to do and calls us to do. Will I ever see my [non-Christian] relative again if they never knew Jesus? I would never answer that with the Romans road (All have sinned… for the wages of sin… believe in the lord…). It turns the meaning of human existence into some logical flow chart. I would perhaps ask them to tell me about their loved one and affirm the relational bond between them as good and true. We are made for connection is it hurts when bonds are severed. I would remind them that Jesus is with us in our pain. He feels with us. He weeps with us. He is no stranger to grief and suffering. I might even confess, even as a minister, that I don’t know what “heaven” is like. But I can say that Jesus assures us it will be good. We will be whole. Does that mean this relative will be there? Maybe? I don’t know. But what is good and whole will last. Jesus came to show us the nature of what awaits us — the kingdom reality that he came to inaugurate.
These days I’m getting more comfortable with the fullness and goodness of not knowing. That not knowing gives room for God to do far more than whatever certainty we can attempt to create in our theological systems. I’m content to trust in the person of Jesus as he’s revealed to us. He won’t ever leave us. He won’t ever abandon us. And he loves us more than we can know.
When I look back at the two passages above, I now see that both of these passages aren’t really about “advanced” theology. They’re about love in action and a mature faith that produces good fruit. As I grow in faith I want to move from a faith of knowledge to one of love.
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