In seminary, we encounter questions and challenges that might be new to us, along with insights into cultures that are quite different from ours. The complexity is overwhelming. Certainly, at times we all wish to return to the simpler ways of understanding theology, the Bible, and missional approaches. Life can be easier without questions; without examining issues facing us today with depth. Give me one word sound bites to explain immigration. Tell me simple phrases to understand economics. Give me easy answers that do not require me to struggle and think. Life was simpler at age 8. My education in history, science, and language came from just one viewpoint, and after that, I would go outside to play. Surely in this complex world, I can keep my faith simple! Yet, both seminary and life have taught me that simple answers while easy, always carry a price. If I do not consider how those around the world consider God, then I miss relationships that could deepen my own faith. In addition, I run the risk of cutting off others whose lives were different from mine and so their experiences create a differing image of who God is. Most importantly I miss continuing to discover the mystery of God with a depth that prevents a God who is too small. Why did Christ come to the earth? Why to Palestine and not to China or South America? Did Christ learn new things? Was Christ always aware of what was to come? How did he live day to day with this looming future? I may never find answers to those questions and many more while most people never even ask them. In fact, for most, one must avoid both the person and the question because they reflect a heresy that cannot be voiced.
So, why did Jesus come? Why did Jesus die? I have also learned that those questions whose answers I repeated throughout my life had more than a singular answer. In fact, there are a variety of approaches to these questions, and the answers have varied across time and political circumstances and theological understandings. Multiple beliefs about Christ matter, understanding cultures across time and across the globe matter and multiple theories of atonement matter. Without all these perspectives, our vison of the mystery of God remains limited. However, stepping beyond the truth that I learned throughout my life creates considerable anxiety.
Sometimes I want my perspective to be the ‘right’ one – to know with certainty that there is only one way to understand God. Of course, we all struggle with the challenge of these questions. I, like others, sometimes want to say: Can’t I just stick with what I know? Is it possible for me to simply stick to the beliefs I have grown up with? It seems so ridiculous to learn this. To even worry about it. Faith is so simple really. Why all the fuss? I hear similar views expressed by my peers in seminary. They shut down in classes, clinging to what they have always thought and tell me, I am only going to learn this for the exam. I think for those who become frustrated with challenging questions, their thoughts are sincere. They just want belief to be simple. They wish that what they learned when they were younger will remain true forever. They do not want to have to consider deepening their understanding of God, the Trinity, the reason Christ being human was important.
Life is easier without questions. The desire for simplicity extends beyond the seminary walls. In many churches, fear of questions and those who ask them also exists. It is terrifying to think that what we learned initially is not the final truth. It is anxiety producing to think that what I learned may have been wrong. However, it is also deeply freeing. Living in a global world, how can we honestly believe that our western perspective was the only way to understanding God?
Seminary has been tough as there are those in my classes who would view much of what we are learning as wrong. They say -just hang onto your faith no matter what these professors tell you. Know it for the quiz and then let it go. They voice concerns about my faith if I begin to embrace the new possibilities. I ask them and all those in churches who are afraid of new ways of understanding God:
Can you also pause, and allow for the possibility that there is more complexity to those questions than what we learned in church? Unnoticed biases exist within our churches because these perspectives have become so widespread. Will you allow yourself to be surprised by the depth of what is possible? If not, can you allow a space of respect for those who want to explore this more deeply? It is how I come to understand the myterium tremendum of God at ever deepening levels. Rather than labeling that which bores you or confuses you as heretical, you too could pause and recognize the deep value of multiple perspectives and the joy of questions.
About the author
Laura Wert holds a Ph.D. in Clinical Psychology and is currently pursuing a second vocation in ministry as a second-year seminarian at McAfee School of Theology.