When President Hummel asked me to write a blog on “the importance of reading the Bible in a scholarly way as we navigate people misusing the Bible for their own gain,” I was excited. I have made valuable progress on this topic personally, and I believe it can help unlock many of the barriers we, as Christians, face today.
Growing up, my faith was largely inherited—almost like one’s nationality. My parents grew up in the church, as did their parents. Christianity has a long history in my family. In my youth, it was rare that we missed a Sunday morning or, for that matter, a Wednesday evening church service. My parents served, sang, led, gave, and at times, worked in the church. For me, Christianity, Jesus, and church were all just a part of life—never questioned, always accepted. This isn’t meant to dismiss my faith or theirs. I simply want to contrast how I viewed my faith then versus how I view it now, after gaining the tools to properly study and better understand the Bible.
I know that to many—especially those who did not grow up with a relationship to Christ—my upbringing may sound ideal, and in many ways, I consider myself fortunate. However, it led to a passive acceptance and a lukewarm faith. Since my relationship with God had always existed and wasn’t actively sought out, it was easy to take it for granted. This resulted in a sort of unintended indoctrination. My conclusions were predetermined, not discovered. When your upbringing presupposes God’s intervention in both the big and small things, and stories of David and Noah are presented as similes to American folk heroes, it seems obvious that one’s understanding of the Bible could be distorted. Furthermore, it can blur the lines between what is God and what is nature—or worse, what is Christianity and what is America. This is a unique challenge for Christians in the West, and if left unchecked, in my opinion it can lead to dangerous ideologies, such as Christian Nationalism.
Intermission…
If you’ve read this far, I’ll assume that you’re either nodding agreeably or raising an eyebrow while searching for the unsubscribe button. I can confidently say that at various points in my life, I’ve had both reactions to such a diatribe.
To the former, the content is likely palatable enough that you won’t let the self-indulgent prose deter you and will continue reading.
To the latter, I want to offer an assurance and a question. I assure you that I write this in good faith, and I have shared the sentiment you may be feeling. I ask you to consider the last time you changed your mind regarding your worldview. More importantly, are you open to possibly having it changed now? If not, please accept the gift of time I offer by suggesting you abandon this yawning blog and go about your day.
I commend those of you who have continued. I will try to avoid further rambling and get to the point. My faith had previously existed simply because I lived in and around Christianity. It wasn’t truly my own.
In 2017, at the age of 37, I took a course taught by Seapointe’s own Professor Barbee. I took this class—simply titled “Bible Study Methods”—at the urging of then-Academic Dean Hummel. Little did I know it would radically change how I viewed nearly every aspect of Christianity and my place in it as a Christian.
Understanding how to approach the Word sparked a curiosity about my faith that hadn’t existed before. I began to question—dare I say, deconstruct—my established beliefs, my personal dogmas, and find my own conclusions. As a result, my worldview shifted. I became more empathetic, more self-aware, more teachable, and more critical. That last one was difficult to wrestle with. It is the one that many of our religious leaders today would prefer to keep locked away. When you grow up taking something at face value to later learn it might not be what it seems, that can have a lasting impact. I started to question things I read or heard from pulpits. Hypocrisies were becoming exposed. Deep flaws in the church as I knew it were being revealed. These flaws would only be exaggerated by the radical divides that we, as a nation, would soon reckon with.
I do not aim to be political, but it would be disingenuous of me to ignore a major catalyst at play during this time. The year I sought a better understanding of His word is the same year that brought forth the unequaled yoking of a certain politician and the vast majority of evangelicals in this country.
Caveat…
Before I go any further, I’d like to add that prior to my first theological class, much of my understanding of the world came from authors, commentators, and pundits like O’Reilly, Beck, Goldberg (Bernard & Jonah), and others. I was pro-border walls and deportations before they were en vogue. I was the ideal demographic (white, male, and Christian) for those looking to radicalize a large population of scaly-eyed, morally entitled ignoramuses. (If you’re offended by this, remember, I’m describing myself.)
Please believe me when I say that I am moved to write on this topic from a place of humility and grace, not from a place of condemnation or judgment. As a reformed addict, I want nothing but freedom for my brothers and sisters in Christ—freedom from whatever worldly ideology clenches your heart, whether it be conservative, progressive, cynical, or complacent. I truly believe that what God worked in me during that first class and the ones that followed would serve as my “road to Damascus.” When the scales of this world fell from my eyes, I could approach His Word without pretext or bias.
We owe it to ourselves—and we owe it to Him—to approach our faith with more than just presumptions or devious influences. If we are willing to approach our careers or hobbies with a desire to learn what is good and true in order to improve the outcome of those endeavors, how much more consideration does our belief in Christ deserve?
2 Peter 1:5 “For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge;”
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