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the fear that isn’t the beginning of wisdom
This is one of those posts where I’m working something out, in this case trying to come to grips with a niggling annoyance that keeps coming up. Pops up like a prairie dog and then down in the hole again, then up again, then down again. Now you see it, now you don’t. What was that? Fear, but of a particular sort. Fear with a religious or pious bent. It’s not that bracing fear that wakes you up either, a fear that clarifies and sharpens focus. Like Isaiah in the temple fear or whatever the fear is that is the beginning of wisdom. This is more like an anxious fear, a whining kind of dread that won’t look you straight in the eye. It’s a worrying nervous sort of fear.
It seems to be wrapped around the proposition that truth is slippery and hard to get a hold of. And that the world is loaded with false truths that parade themselves as true ones and it’s easy, very easy, to be duped. It’s so easy to be duped that one might wish to be like a bird at a feeder–darting down for an oilseed but then looking around constantly this way and that. Have you ever watched a bird at a window feeder and just felt sorry that they have to be so alert, so on guard ALL THE TIME. Has to be hard on the digestion, the poor birds!
I realize I’m not nailing this thing. I’m just trying to convey the feel of the thing–this particular fear.
It’s a fear that seems to take comfort in warning of dangers. All the time, from many different directions. You say one thing, and this fear listens fearfully and sees a danger in that thought and offers a caution. That’s it–this thing is a kind of dread that thoughts themselves are almost inherently dangerous.
Certain groups seem to breed this fear and others don’t. I like the groups that don’t better. When I was a brand new Jesus follower, I am so thankful that the very first people I talked to about my coming into being Jesus faith didn’t seem to have this nervous fear of thoughts or questions. Everything was pretty much fair game to discuss and ponder. Not, of course, that there weren’t deep ends to be gone off of. But they weren’t the preoccupation of the people I first engaged in the communal art of faith with. I think if I had sensed that fear it would have flipped me out. I would have been out of there. Life’s too short.
I’m not talking about open disagreement either. I enjoy a good open disagreement. How do you figure some things out without first batting them around? But how do you bat things around, or to shift metaphors, how do you toss ideas around if everyone thinks an idea is an egg that when dropped will surely make a mess?
Maybe it’s an aging thing. I’m getting older, as I’m guessing you are as well. But I’ve perhaps been getting older longer than some of you. And I find that as I get older, something is happening. I’m getting more and more certain but of fewer and fewer things. It’s really quite a humbling experience and it creeps up on you like age does: you find yourself so certain of certain things and then more light is shed on your certainty and you discover that it was prematurely granted. So you take a step or two back from certain certainties. But then other things bear the weight of your life and experience much better and with time, you find yourself trusting these other things much more deeply. You’re leaning on these thing with a great deal of your weight such that if they were suddenly kicked out from under you like a cane, you’d be shocked and unsettled.
Like the Bible. I’m sorry, but I’ve had so much accumulated connection with God through the Bible that you’re just not going to be able to pry my fingers off the thing. On the one hand. But on the other, some of my convictions that I was so sure of a few decades ago haven’t stood the test of time, and I had chapter and verse for some of ‘em.
So I’ve got this theory: I’m wrong in my understanding of the Bible about 15% of the time. I just don’t know which 15%. It’ might be 10% (one can hope) or it might be 20%. I’m not willing to entertain the thought that it might be 90%. Just for sanity’s sake. But it’s some percent greater than zero, and it’s got to be double digits.
As a result, I find myself willing to entertain questions.
Like this question: does the rule always apply–”If your experience of God seems to contradict your best understanding of Scripture, always dismiss your experience and stick with your best understanding of Scripture.” That seems like a really good rule. It cuts out a lot of foolishness fast.
But then you’ve got Scripture itself, which seems to be leading us to the truth in person, Jesus. And he has a, for lack of a better word, wild, side. I mean he loves Scripture, treats Scripture as reliable, powerful and all that. But he uses Scripture sometimes in different ways than anticipated. He seems to use it, at times dangerously. Like when he said, “Doesn’t Scripture say, ‘ye shall be as gods’ and the Scripture cannot be broken’” and then he doesn’t really explain himself. He’s a monotheist talking like that. And he doesn’t say, “don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying YOU are actually gods….” Except that this is exactly what he seems to be saying. But if someone asserted that this is what he meant, I’d say, you’re crazy.
So here’s a case where Jesus is using Scripture but in a dangerous sort of way. You’d have to say he’s using Scripture in an unorthodox sort of way. Fine. He’s Jesus. But still.
But back to my question about that very sensible rule I mentioned. It is a very sensible rule. It’s just that I’m glad Peter didn’t rely on the rule to guide him when he had that vision at noon on the rooftop in Joppa. Where a sheet came down and said, “Rise, Peter, kill and eat!” He was shocked. Because he was being told to do something forbidden by his best understanding of Scripture. And I think it’s a cop out to say that Jesus had prepared him for this. If so, he didn’t prepare him very well.
So there Peter is: he’s had this powerful experience of God speaking to him and it contradicts his best understanding of Scripture. Because of his love of Scripture and his respect for Scripture it throws him into a tizzy. He doesn’t just say, “Wow! What a fantastic experience! Let’s go to Red Lobster!” No, he seems to wrestle with God and with the vision. He’s stuck for a while. The vision repeats a couple of times for emphasis. But eventually, he goes with the vision, against the rule.
And we Gentiles are like, “Thank God he didn’t take the rule to the limit! Thank God he made an exception!”
Sure, you can say, “But he was an apostle. That’s was his apostolic prerogative.” I know. But still. Isn’t this in the Bible to encourage us? To show us how God has what may appear to us to be a dangerous side? That we can’t reduce the adventure of being faithful to God down to something manageable like a set of rules? We can still use rules, but we can’t be ruled by them. See what I mean? Try that with your ten year old!
I don’t mind entertaining these kinds of questions. In fact, I think the Bible itself encourages me to entertain just such questions as these. Even though it feels dicey to do so.
But partly, that’s because I’ve been around that climate of fear. I’ve imbibed the nectar of that particular form of fear. And while it seemed to promise safety and security, it turned out to be a kind of narcotic. It dulled my mind and my spirit. So I’ve developed a kind of caution about that ever present cautionary, warning, be careful, nervous, fearful thing.
July 11th, 2008 at 12:49 pm
Hey Ken, What a great sharing you have done with this blog entry. You are really helping me to see the Ken Wilson I have heard many stories about.
I am older than you Ken, and I can honestly say I proceeded down the exact same path of thought you are stating in this article. What an adventure for you…it will keep you young and vibrant. For me it created a hunger for truth that only God can fulfill and that through His Word. A much respected Pastor of mine once told me that “Left to my own understanding, I never would truly understand the Scriptures. My only hope was to let the Spirit, God gives, guide and direct my mind to understanding. In this exercise of faith He will constantly renew our minds.”. I have since learned to be like the Berean’s and test everything against the Word daily. There is a great story behind Jesus’ use of the phrase” ‘ye be as gods…”. Do you really think Jesus Christ would use Scripture in a dangerous/unorthodox(untruthful) way? Was Peter dreaming a dream from God?…was it a simple dream of God renewing Peter’s mind?…after all He had heard Jesus speak of this before. Paul was an Apostle born of experience. He was however a previously strong believer in the Word. Yes Ken, it is dicey to have questions, but only if we seek our “own” understanding. After all, we are questioning God, so doesn’t it make sense to get the answers from Him? It is the reason we have The Word. Putting our trust completely in the Lord will assure us that He will answer all our questions according to His will. Bless you Ken and once again thank you.
July 13th, 2008 at 12:14 am
Ken, you seem to be both a thinker and a doubter, which I find commendable. Here are some thoughts about doubt which I find agreeable to my mind:
“Doubt is the key to knowledge.”
“Doubt is uncomfortable, certainty is ridiculous.”
“Doubt is part of all religion. All the religious thinkers were doubters.”
“Any belief worth having must survive doubt.”
“Doubt is the beginning not the end of wisdom.”
“Modest doubt is called the beacon of the wise.”
“Dubito ergo cogito; cogito ergo sum. I doubt, therefore I think; I think, therefore I am.”
“Just think of the tragedy of teaching children not to doubt.”
“Seize the moment of excited curiosity on any subject to solve your doubts; for if you let it pass, the desire may never return, and you may remain in ignorance.”
July 14th, 2008 at 3:36 am
That’s some good stuff. Hey Ex, I was just wondering about your name. Assuming it means what it sounds like (or maybe it doesn’t), why do you call yourself “Ex-christian”? Just curious.
July 14th, 2008 at 7:43 am
ken
here is the latest blog entry from the washington post ‘on faith’ blog/column, which talks of wisdom, science and humility…i thought it seemed appropos to this post:
Templeton’s Legacy of Humility
Billionaire investor John Templeton, who died Tuesday at age 95, might have had more money than God, but he knew better than to mistake wealth for wisdom.
“We should admit that no human being has ever known one percent of the infinity of God. We are terribly ignorant,” Templeton told me in 2002.
Humility is a wonderful trait in a billionaire, or any person of faith. How do we find more of it? Templeton spent a good deal of his fortune trying to figure that out.
The Wall Street Legend was the first and only billionaire I ever met. I interviewed him in his hometown, Winchester, Tenn., better known as the birthplace of Dinah Shore.
I wanted to ask him for a stock tip. He wanted to talk about science and religion. Just my luck.
“When new discoveries are made about science, do we not merely discover more about God?” he said. “All of nature reveals something of the Creator.”
I’ve always thought so. Like Templeton, I’ve never thought of science and faith as rivals. Science can tell us how, faith can tell us why. Science deals with facts, faith deals with truths.
But I didn’t grow up in the shadow of the 1925 Scopes Monkey Trial, which pitted religion against science a mere four counties east of where Templeton was being raised in the Cumberland Presbyterian church.
Templeton said he was fascinated by the trial, but he was equally enthralled by the natural wonders around him. He began to wonder Why couldn’t God create an evolving universe that operated on both physical and spiritual laws.
After he made his fortune, he set out to make a contribution. In 1987, he established the John Templeton Foundation to encourage the use of scientific methods to discover more about the spiritual realm. Foundation grants are being used to study such virtues as forgiveness, gratitude and humility.
What Templeton wanted more than money was meaning. What he wanted more than certainty was wisdom — knowledge tempered by humility.
“I grew up as a Presbyterian,” he told Business Week in 2005. “Presbyterians thought the Methodists were wrong. Catholics thought all Protestants were wrong. The Jews thought the Christians were wrong. So what I am financing is humility. I want people to realize you shouldn’t think you know it all.”
That’s more valuable than any stock tip.
Posted by David Waters on July 10, 2008 1:18 PM
July 14th, 2008 at 7:59 pm
While it is exciting to think about the scripture outside of the box it can be quite dangerous. The Christian thought police can make you look around nervously…until you shake it (or their hovering) off and confront the questions without fear. And certain certainties will stand when held up to the sun. Again and again.
July 17th, 2008 at 7:01 pm
Trenton, to answer your question, I call myself “Ex-christian” because for about 8 years, from the age of 20 until the age of 28, I was a born-again, spirit-filled, tongues-speaking, occasional prophecy-uttering true believer in Jesus Christ. Now I am none of the above. However, I have always been, as far back as I can remember, and still am, in a personal relationship with the mystery that we call God.
July 18th, 2008 at 6:36 pm
Good for you man. I’d ask you to explain how it is that one could have a “personal relationship” with such an abstraction as “the mystery that we call God”, but I assume the answer would have to be: It’s a mystery…
I don’t mean to be sarcastic, I mean, I really am happy that you’ve been able to drop your faith without becoming a bitter atheist. And your contributions to these conversations have been interesting and thoroughly thought-provoking.
Search on!
July 18th, 2008 at 9:04 pm
trenton, Good to hear from you! I think “mystery” and “personal” are not exclusive categories, since all persons are also mysteries. That is, they cannot be fully understood or mastered, except by God. My wife, for example. So one could say that one could only have a personal relationship with a mystery. That’s the glory of personal relationships and why we need God’s help to love (though, ex-christian, many who don’t explicitly seek God’s help to love do a better job loving than some who do, or say they do). I know many so called atheists
(I think it’s a hard label to live up to when it comes down to it) who love powerfully. I’ll bet you’re one.
July 19th, 2008 at 12:32 am
Trenton and Ken, I appreciate your kind words.
Trenton, you asked, “How it is that one could have a ‘personal relationship’ with such an abstraction as ‘the mystery that we call God’.” Well, for example, I’ve been in a relationship with my own conscience for as far back as I can remember, and that means to me that I’ve been in a relationship with the ‘mystery that we call God’ for as far back as I can remember, even though I was raised in a home where God was almost never mentioned. And I still communicate, back and forth, with that mystery.
Ken, you said, “I know many so called atheists who love powerfully. I’ll bet you’re one.” Does that mean you think I’m an atheist? If so, why?
July 19th, 2008 at 9:55 am
Ken, I agree. No person, and above all God, can be “mastered” and known completely (except by God Himself), and we are all mysteries (esp. God) who desperately desire to “know” another (esp. to know our creator God).
The thing about mysteries, is that there’s a curious connection between mysteries and faith (as well as the humility of uncertainty). For example, in relation to your example of your relationship with your wife, in order for that relationship to truly be a relationship you have to have “faith” (in the existential sense) that you and she both exist. In relation to God, that would make you a mere Deist (at most a Theist), who, I would argue, cannot and would not claim to be able to have a “personal” relationship with Him/Her/It.
But if you take faith one step further and begin to believe that your wife not only exists, but has certain characteristic attributes that make her “who she is”, things that make her unique, things that you like, and even things that you dislike, then and only then are you able to enter into a “personal relationship” with her. That’s not to say that your notion of these attributes may not be fully developed and applied to her in the right way 100% of the time, but you’re still able to expect certain things from her (how she will act/react in certain situations etc.) and most of the time you’ll be (hopefully) at least pretty close in your expectations. And when you’re not, that’s where embracing the mystery of a person (and God) is so important. If you just refuse to believe that you were wrong in your assumptions about her, that spells disaster for the relationship.
I guess my point would be that in relation to God, if you trust that He is Love (and that a “personal relationship” is something that is possible to have with Him), then, I believe, as a loving God He would want to give us morsels of truth about His character, not so that we can “master” Him, but so that we can at least begin down the path of discovering Him (this being a life-long journey, which is itself a “personal relationship”). This I believe He has given to us, like you say in your book Ken, through our relationships with other image-bearing humans (sacred community) and through His Word (past, sacred scripture - read with our God-given reasoning minds and directed by the Holy Spirit; and present, sacred Spirit - through personal experience with the Holy Spirit, with spiritual discernment influenced by both community and scripture).
Once again, I think we’re actually on the same page here, but in my effort to help you understand the mystery of me, I thought I’d try to clear up what I meant in my comment to Ex.
Welcome back from the Arctic and God bless!
July 19th, 2008 at 10:11 am
Ex, I’m curious about your thoughts. And I also agree with what Ken said about love and I believe many non-Christians (and atheists) do a better job at loving their neighbors than do many self-identified Christians. In that respect, I totally understand why you (and many others), would leave “the faith” over such hypocrisy.
But since that is the very thing that Jesus most spoke against (and condemned), it seems that Christianity, at its core, is really all about love and truth (God, by definition). And that is why I am confident in my faith (though not conceited to think that I “know” the whole story completely). I have faith that the path of this Christian journey toward knowing Him through “personal relationship”, is the “right” path and that it really is Him that I am journeying toward.
If it’s not Jesus Christ and the Christian God (the Trinity, etc.) that you’re pursuing in relationship, who would you say your “mystery that we call God” is? What attributes do you believe are true about Him through faith, which allows you to begin the journey of relating personally to a personal God?
July 20th, 2008 at 5:23 am
ex,
my bad! I’m back from a trip and was doing hurried comments catch up and mixed you up with someone else.
Eugene Peterson says “hurry is a crime against time”.
July 22nd, 2008 at 12:01 am
Added. Nice work on this one. Btw, my blog is dofollow, stop by and grab a link. Walter
July 23rd, 2008 at 9:22 am
Nice post, you got some good points there - thank you.
August 3rd, 2008 at 11:29 am
Psalm 111:10
start there work back.
10 The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom;
You sound like you are looking to go of the rails, as though you are unhappy with your orthodoxy. Maybe it is the orthopraxy that is the problem.