It’s a truism that the older we get the less sure we are. But for me, at least, that’s been a blessing. Certainly there are some things I’m more sure of than ever. For many other things, well, let’s just say that with age comes wisdom, and with wisdom we begin to see how little we actually understand. Life becomes a little less clear, a little more blurry. Which, as I said, has been a blessing.
I’ve become comfortable not fully knowing something, which paradoxically has allowed me to relax. You might think just the opposite happens — that by not knowing we become tense and anxious. That’s exactly how I was for the early decades of my adult life. But by embracing my own lack of understanding I have actually found beauty and joy in the journey toward wisdom.
This is most evident in my understanding of theology. When young I was given a really wonderful theological grounding. My parents, teachers, pastors and professors encouraged me to think beyond the obvious and understand scripture in context. Most of all, they encouraged a healthy skepticism toward anything systematic in theology.
What I believe and hold dear now is, at its foundation, unchanged. But actions speak far louder than beliefs and are, for me, the dominate way of understanding God. I always sensed this, but it took time to know it.
This is what I call generous theology. Understanding the nature of God (theology) is dependent on actually practicing the love of God. Well, it is for me at least. I cannot understand God if I do not understand love, and I cannot understand love if I do not practice love.
There is a great — some might call heretical – cartoon of Jesus talking to a group of men and women holding bibles (I’m sure the cartoonist meant to imply bible thumpers). Jesus says to them, “The difference between me and you is you use scripture to determine what love means and I use love to determine what scripture means.”
Full circle back to my opening paragraph about being less certain. When I apply love in the everyday occurrences of life, many of the appendages of theology fade into the whateverness of my mind. I am less certain of their purpose, meaning, and power. The surprising thing is all that whateverness is replaced by clarity about what is true, noble, right, and pure.
And there is joy in this. It is generous theology.