How can we be arrogant about our knowledge of God when we don’t fully understand ourselves. Spiritual maturity shines light on dark places, places we’ve not known but were always there. It isn’t only because I am a philosopher that I side with Socrates when he said, “I just know that I don’t know.” But it is also because it honestly reflects what I’ve experienced in life. As a youngster, I would ask tons of questions. I was a curious little boy who believed that everyone understood more about the world than I did. I was fascinated by the breadth and size of the world and the seemingly endless amounts of people within it. I would collect rocks. I would notice rocks of different shapes, sizes, textures, and colors and be awed by them, thinking “What were these extremely durable treasures(?).” My pants’ pockets were often stained by the mud, the dirt, and the dust that hung on these treasures like pirates refusing to give them up. I would store my treasures in a drawer at home. This memory brings me joy because I know it was innocent. I wasn’t trying to be different or special; I just was.
I was full of curiosity and it spilled over into my desire to understand the world of men and women. While wet with wonder, I found others to be dry, living but not reflecting, thinking only about the world which was visible to their eyes, thinking only about how they could navigate it for basic needs. I wondered why we were all here while others wondered why their lights were turned off, why the DART bus had not arrived as scheduled. I simply assumed that they knew answers to the questions that I had and that this explained why they didn’t ask them. Like Socrates, I would find myself in conversations with experts, with teachers and preachers, with those who were credentialed, with those who were licensed. But my curiosity wasn’t met with acceptance. I asked questions about things you weren’t supposed to question. “Why was this a sin” and “Where does it teach this in the Bible,” I would ponder. “Why were those with titles treated better in church than momma,” who seemed almost invisible. “Why could I speak to many people in the church while others seemed to be off limits?”
Life was a long-suffering teacher with me, teaching me through the lost of relationships and reputation and the assassination of my character the truth that most people simply don’t enough to explore the tough questions. Sure. They may ponder the meaning of life before closing their eyes at night, but will they spend the next day repeating the cycle of the previous day or will they set aside time to read and explore scripture and other resources?
I became aware of my ignorance of self after pondering my interpersonal communication and unpleasant experiences with other people. While I attempted to comprehend the purpose of existence, I lacked an understanding about the nature of my own. Who was I? Why was I me? These became questions which shifted my focus inwardly.
As I grow older, I am absolutely amazed at the blind spots I’ve had about my own character. I spent years blaming people in church and other places for their mistreatment of me without seeing my role in this effect. Daily I become aware more and more about my insensitivity to the feeling of others. I say rude things to my wife sometimes and don’t even realize it. I jest at the expense of others feelings when it’s humorous to myself. I’m impatient when asked a question with an apparently obvious answer. I lost control when inspired with a seemingly profound idea and don’t consider what others are doing around me, interrupting, sharing my idea, and being upset when they inform me they’re busy. I have also been very condescending to myself in the past, forgiving others while holding guilt about my own past mistakes, seeing myself as subhuman, feeling that I don’t deserve self-love.
Thus, how can I arrogantly hold a view about God or his word that hasn’t been checked by inferences from scripture and valid reasonings, rather than the feeling of my own certainty? How can I boldly assert what some verse means without study, without proof? How can I be proud about my knowledge of God when I’m daily in the process of discovery about myself? Wouldn’t the proper posture be to maintain an open mind about what I believe. That is, be open to examine reasons why I believe something and hear those within my faith communities who may have different beliefs for different reasons. To be clear, I am not advocating for the suspension of theological beliefs, rather I am arguing that we should have more of a reason from scripture, the original languages, the meanings of individual words, the context of the particular verse, etc. than just holding to a certain view of conduct simply because someone you trusted told you or that is the understanding you arrived at after reading the scripture. One thing I got right as a kid was the open disposition to information and conversation and these are the rocks I still carry.