Thursday, September 7, 2017

When Peaks are Actually Plateaus

       Flipping through my mental archives recently, and I uncovered a thought I created somewhere in my high school or early college era: "I know most of what there is to know about Christianity." I distinctly remember thinking I had reached my peak in understanding the inner workings of my faith. To clarify, I wasn't silly enough to believe I had a complete knowledge of the Bible or of biblical history, but I was content in my understanding of what Christianity was all about,what being a "believer" entailed, and what to say when questioned about Christianity. I had taken world view classes, attended a world view camp, and discussed Christianity and other belief systems with friends, that on top of all the usual church activities. My faith seemed pretty well-rounded to me. I was stunned at this recollection and lectured my former self on her youthful hubris (not the last time I will offer that lesson, I know).

       This retrospect was originally triggered by a church small group discussion centered around the question "How would you briefly explain the Kingdom of God to someone?" Ugh. I've always hated that question. Give me two hours and I'll still feel like I've answered inadequately--think of the failure that's possible in two minutes! Before writing down my answer, I recalled what I would have said eight, five, maybe even three years ago: "God created the universe and everything in it. Adam and Eve disobeyed God, and therefore separated themselves from Him. In order to save humanity, God sent Jesus to earth to live a perfect life and die on a cross as a sacrifice for sin. Now everyone who believes that Jesus is the Savior of the world is free from sin and will live with Him for eternity after they die." A pretty standard answer, and none of it isn't true, but it felt hollow and impersonal. The facts were right, but there wasn't any heart to it. I queried, "what about the gospel captures my affections?" and tried to summarize my answer as best I could:

       "The kingdom of God is about restoration--restoring humanity to God, people to one another, humanity to the earth. It's a place of boundaries created to strengthen these relationships and secure our identities in something far more steadfast than our transient selves. It's a realm in which our souls can be free of the muck of our self-loathing, self-righteousness, self-pity, and complete self-absorption.  We can accept our faults and glories without defeat or conceit because we know neither are the end of us. Because of this freedom, we can become more ourselves and better serve others to the glory of our King."

       I liked this answer better, not because it discards the truth in favor of feeling, but because it fills out the facts and more thoroughly answers the "why" of the Kingdom of God. I often settle into the "what," the descriptors, but why the Kingdom exists is the true motivator. And the motivation found in the purpose of God's kingdom is the prodding I need to remember that I don't know it all. My understanding of God's heart will always be deepening and expanding, stretching to include possibilities to which I was previously blind. I'm thankful for His vastness, for though it's intimidating, it builds a greater hope than I dared to believe existed.