The Unexamined Life

Background Passages: 2 Timothy 4:3-4, 2 Timothy 2:15, 2 Corinthians 13:5, and Psalm 139:23-24

I’ve taught Sunday School to one age group or another since I was 18 years old. To keep you from doing the math in your head, that’s 48 years.

I always felt that those who taught Sunday School carried an extra burden to prepare a lesson that was meaningful and applicable to those who would hear it. I wish I could tell you I diligently prepared every lesson I’ve taught, but I really can’t. There were too many times when the distractions of life got in the way. Shame on me.

As a child I can remember laying on the floor of our den watching television or playing a game while my Mom and Dad sat in their recliners studying the lesson they were going to teach that Sunday. To hear them dissect and discuss what they were reading made an impression on me. Faith requires a lot of self-examination; questioning what we believe and why we believe it.

Paul offered a word of encouragement to Timothy, a young pastor in Ephesus, that I want to extend to you. It serves as a good reminder to me every time I prepare a lesson or when I sit down to write a Bible study like this one. Paul wrote:

“Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed, and who correctly handles the word of truth.” 2 Timothy 2:15

Whether we teach or not, we have an obligation to study God’s word so we can interpret and apply it correctly in our daily lives. Paul wanted Timothy to put in the good work. To serve in such a way that when judgment came, he could hold his head up knowing that he did what God asked of him.

To be able to do so requires us to know the word of God well enough that we can apply it effectively and correctly in every life circumstance.

I know my natural tendency would be to filter scripture through my preconceived ideas of how the world should be. There is even a temptation to bend the scripture to fit those preconceptions and biases. Truthfully, that’s spiritual laziness at its best.

Socrates, I think, would have understood this. The ancient Greek philosopher was sentenced to death in 399 BC for his controversial teachings on the nature of politics and religion. His accusers felt as though he was corrupting the young people of Greece. He was just trying to get them to think on their own rather than take all of life for granted.

At his sentencing, the tribunal gave him an ultimatum…spend the remainder of his life in exile or die. Knowing that his students needed to challenge their thinking in order to grow and learn, he could not simply leave. Facing death, Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.”

This famed teacher of Plato believed the ability to ask, examine and understand yourself and the world around you would make you a better person. To Socrates, self-examination was critical. I suspect this is what he meant when he taught his pupils to “know thyself.”

Life is confusing in the best of times. These are not the best of times.

Bombarded each hour by formal and informal news and social media outlets, each with an apparent internal bias, our ability to separate fact from fiction grows severely compromised with each passing day. We end up grasping for the easy and comfortable tidbits that conform to our personal biases without searching our own hearts and minds for truth. We just accept or reject it what we read or hear depending on how it fits with our personal views, giving no credence to the thought that we might be wrong.

What’s true in life is true in faith. When we live content to rest upon our preconceived notions without serious and constant examination, taking everything at face value depending on how it connects to those preconceptions, we sit on a perilous perch.

It is awfully easy to accept Christ as savior and do little with it. We learn the rudiments of faith and stop learning what it really means in the nitty-gritty of life to be a follower of Christ.

The truth is that living an unexamined spiritual life will produce mediocrity almost every time. Paul encouraged Timothy to “correctly handle the word of God because…

“The time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths.” 2 Timothy 4:3-4

Isn’t that our way? Our personal biases filter God’s word, rejecting any message that “corrects or rebukes” our limited understanding of what it means to live for Christ.

I am a work in progress when it comes to understanding who God is and what he requires of me as a Christian in today’s world…and I’ve been at this a very long time.

Here’s what I’ve learned over the years. As I study, as I question, as I examine my own beliefs and understanding, God shapes, clarifies, expands, changes and challenges my definition and application of faith. I realize I don’t know one-half of what I thought I knew.

I don’t pretend to have all the answers. When I write these Bible studies, they are personal. I’m writing what I’ve learned and what’s on my heart. What I write is my attempt to show what I think God is teaching me as a life-long learner in God’s kingdom. Please read them through the inquisitive mind of self-reflection and self-examination.

To be effective in one’s Christian walk one must examine one’s thinking. That is, indeed, a treacherous journey into our hearts…into the deep inside of us that only we and God know.

We hear many sermons and Sunday School lessons on how to live a Christlike life, sharing God’s love with others, showing compassion and mercy to the world around us. These things emphasize service as the hallmark of our obedience to God.

Sustaining that work to any great degree is impossible without growing our inner self. Reflective examination of all we believe.

God can be the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. We cannot. A life lived on spiritual autopilot, following the easy path, takes this amazing gift and grace of God for granted. It is a life without reflection and, consequently, without much understanding.

The unexamined life reduces our existence to a set of tasks that we think we must do to earn God’s love. God’s grace doesn’t work that way.

The Corinthian church had faltered, surrendering the moral high ground to the world around them. Paul exhorted them to stay on the right path. He urged them to constantly looking inward…check the heart and mind…set aside their personal assumptions. It’s written as a critical imperative.

“Examine yourselves to see if you are in the faith; test yourselves.” 2 Corinthians 13:5

The author of a blog on the Toward Conservative Christianity website wrote it this way. “As reflection and contemplation wither, inevitably wonder, awe and worship suffer as well. It comes down to our willingness to ask ourselves, ‘Why do I believe that?’, and then searching for the answers in God’s word.”

God, through his spirit, is more than willing to help with that process. As the Psalmist said,

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” Psalm 139:23-24

It seems to me that God’s spirit reveals those answers to us based on our ability to understand in this moment, giving us the time and insight we need to reach the next level of spiritual growth…then the next…then the next. I know it has worked that way for me.

He’ll do this for us as long as we keep searching. For as long as we keep searching, he’ll keep opening our eyes to the wonder of who he is and what he requires of us.

At least that’s the way it appears to this one who is still learning.

Come Sit at the Big Table

Background Passages: Luke 2:41-52; Philippians 2:6-7; I Corinthians 3:1-3

I don’t know if your family gatherings were like mine growing up. Typically, everyone brought a pot luck casserole or vegetable while someone provided the ham. Everyone would meet at Grandma’s house after church on Sunday.

The cousins would play…loudly…while the food was placed on the dining room table, extended to its full length. Card tables sat in the “formal” living room, surrounded by those folding chairs that pinched more than one finger at some point during the day. After a prayer, the adults sat around the dining room table, banishing the kids with their paper plates to the card tables in the next room.

I remember listening from the other to the conversation around the big table. Sometimes it was filled with love and laughter. Sometimes it was serious and somber.

For each of the cousins, we longed for the day when Grandma would point you to a chair at the big table. What a glorious rite of passage! No longer a child. Now, an adult.

I wonder if Jesus felt that way when he entered the temple in Jerusalem when he was 12-years-old. Picture it.

*

Every year of his memory, the boy traveled with his family from Galilee to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. His father, devote and upright, would walk with his son into the temple, his hand resting lightly on his son’s shoulder. Each year, the father let his son experience the awe and majesty of the towering white-washed temple stone, glistening in the morning sun.

Then, he would drop to a knee, take the young boy by the shoulders and remind him of his place. Standing with the other children against the wall—to look, listen and learn. Being seen, but never heard. With a smile and a gentle push, Joseph sent Jesus to join the other boys, all who longed for the day when they would be invited among the men to learn at the feet of Jerusalem’s most noted rabbis.

What a difference this year made! Jesus, on the verge of Jewish adulthood, entered his final year of study prior to becoming a “son of the covenant.” This would be his first year to sit among the men in the temple in Jerusalem, a moment about which Jesus dreamed for years.

On this special day, Jesus stood a little straighter beside his father just inside the gates of the inner courtyard. Joseph marveled at the lad who stood nearly as tall as he, the young man’s eyes fixed straight ahead, the slight smile on his face filled with anticipation and yearning. Jesus watched with fond recollection as his father again took a knee, hands resting on the shoulders of his younger brothers…a quiet word and gentle push sending them to stand with the other boys.

As Joseph watched them walk away he brushed the dust from his robe. When all was in order, the father gazed down at his oldest son and grinned. He knew the importance of the day for Jesus. It was all he spoke about for the last six months. With a nod of his head the two walked into the gathering crowd of men. No longer a child. Now, an adult.

The day ended. The thrill of the conversation not lost on Jesus. Throughout the teaching and questioning of the rabbi, Jesus listen. Never uttered a word. Never asked a question. Respectful of the moment. Taking it all in. That night he visited with family, excited by the day, full of questions left unasked at the temple.

The group of family and friends rose bright and early the next morning setting out on a long journey home…all except Jesus. He had every intention of returning home, but in the hustle of the morning, the burning questions in his heart consumed him. Almost without thinking he found himself again inside the temple, sitting on the steps among the men, listening with rapt attention to the words of the rabbi.

No longer overwhelmed by the moment, Jesus could no longer contain himself. He listened. He commented. He sought clarification. He probed with questions of his own that startled the rabbi. When the rabbi turned the tables and asked questions in return, Jesus did not shy away. He thought. He recited passages of scripture to support his thoughts. The dialogue intrigued the rabbis, drawing a larger crowd to hear the dynamic exchange of ideas.

Night fell and Jesus remained again in Jerusalem, finding a family to let him sleep by their fire. The next morning he went again to the temple, finding his place among the rabbi’s disciples. The dialogue deep, rich and instructive.

You know the rest of the story. The next day Jesus sat in the temple astounding everyone with his understanding and his insight. Amazing the learned ones with his questions. Drawing them deeper and deeper into the scripture they often took for granted. Making them think with him. Learning more with each passing hour.

At some point, Jesus felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. Looking behind him he saw the face of his father, a look of relieved anger etched in his eyes. Joseph said nothing. He just crooked his finger, beckoning Jesus to follow. Follow he did. They left the inner courtyard and came face to face with Mary, his mother.

The swirl of robes engulfed him with a mother’s relief of a lost child found. Then, she pushed him away and the anger flashed. Jesus didn’t often see his mother in such a state, but he was smart enough to know to let her speak first.

“Son, why have you treated us so? Your father and I have been looking for you anxiously.”

I suspect there was more to the conversation than Luke records in his gospel. Suffice it to say, Jesus got an earful.

I also suspect there was a more sympathetic and apologetic response from Jesus than scripture records. “I am sorry. I should have asked to stay. I have never felt anything like this. I should have asked to stay. Please don’t be mad. Don’t you know? I must be about my Father’s business.”

In the hugs that followed and the sincere sorrow at the distress he caused, Mary and Joseph both recalled all those things they treasured in their hearts since the angel first visited. With a heavy sigh of forgiveness, Mary embraced her son again, “Please, next time, just let us know what you’re doing.” I can see Jesus reaching out, touching his hand to her check, a gesture of love and affection, “I’m so sorry, Mother. I promise.”

As they began again their journey home, Jesus filled each moment with excited conversation about all he had learned about God’s love, God’s will and God’s purpose.

*

I think we live with the assumption that Jesus was born with the full knowledge of his God-ness. I’m not sure that’s true. The day may come when I understand the duality of Jesus Christ as he lived among us as God and man. That day is not today by any means. I reason it out as best I can, trying to rationalize the omniscient and omnipotent Father encased in human form.

We tend to see Jesus as a four-year-old boy, capable of miracles, knowing completely his purpose and role as God’s Messiah. Yet, scripture tells us Jesus grew in wisdom and stature in the eyes of men and God. Growing in stature comes easily enough. The child became a man. Growing in wisdom complicates things. If he were God in all complete power and knowledge from the moment of birth, how could he grow in wisdom?

I believe Jesus understood to whom he belong. He knew who is Father was. His response to Mary and Joseph was honest. “I must be about my Father’s business.” I just don’t think he had full knowledge of what that meant for him and how it would play out in his life…at least not when he was twelve.
Scholars far more learned than I speak to God imposing personal limits to his own power and knowledge when he took human form so he could be “like us.” Paul said as much in Philippians:

“Though he was in the form of God, he did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant.”

Perhaps Jesus emptied himself of the omniscience of the Father. There were some things he did not know. He admitted that some things were hidden from him when he told the disciples in Matthew that he did not know the day of his return:

“Of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only. “

If we can buy that idea, we see Jesus’ time in the temple in a new light. Not as God speaking from the mouth of a 12-year-old, enlightening the blindness of the rabbis. Rather, we see the inquisitive nature of a student of God. One who desires to know all there is to know about the nature and work of God. One craving righteousness.

That’s the point of the narrative in my eyes. Jesus preached to the multitude on the mountainside and tells them, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness…” He understood that nature of that blessing because he experienced it himself as an eager boy in the temple. He recalled that longing to know God that compelled him with passion to seek answers to questions to which he had no ready answers. The quest for righteousness drove him to study…to grow in spiritual wisdom…in preparation for the moment when God would release him for ministry.

If we are to live in the image of God we must also hunger and thirst for righteousness as if our lives depended upon its sustenance.

What does that mean for us?

Too many Christians are not eager to understand more about God than they already know. We grow complacent and comfortable in our knowledge. As Paul said, to the Corinthians, “I gave you milk not solid food for you were not ready for it. Indeed, you are still not ready for you are worldly.”

It is a message echoed by the writer of Hebrews. “Although by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God’s word all over again…Everyone who lives on milk is still an infant, inexperienced in the message of righteousness.”

When we ought to be hungering for righteousness, we often grow too comfortable sitting at the kid’s table, afraid of the conversations that take place in the other room. Hoping we will never be asked to sit at the big table.

Yet, Jesus, as a boy, understood that obedience to God required him to open God’s word. To probe and dig more deeply into its treasure. To be responsive to God’s call today requires us to sink our teeth into God’s scripture. Asking questions. Looking for answers. Reading scripture each day as if it were new. Praying that the Spirit might breathe new truth into an open heart and mind.

I am grateful for the pastors and mentors in my life. I’m grateful for parents and Sunday School teachers who challenged my thinking. Friends who encouraged me to ask questions and to keep asking until the pieces of life’s puzzle began to fit together. I’m grateful to God who shows me sometimes that the puzzle pieces can fit together in a new way, taking me more deeply down the path he needs me to travel.

I am grateful that God invites us daily to sit with him at the big table.

Pull up a chair.