Written by Ryan Hicks
If this comes across as the disjointed stream of consciousness of an overly introspective college kid, it’s because it is. It at least started out that way.Being a Bible major, I have my various thoughts and theories about Christianity that I would love to shoot all over the place with my figurative righteous bazooka, but I try to keep my more abrasive theories to myself so as to not offend or disturb the unity of the body and all that jazz.I, however, cannot keep this theory to myself and maintain my own sanity any longer.
For a while, I didn’t think that I believed God could do much of anything. I had concentrated my concept of the omnipotent, omniscient, omni-present Creator of the universe to nothing more than pulp-free scholarly classes and a 30-minute devo, which I slept through every day.
I should clarify what I am talking about regarding this scholarly approach to God. I am not attacking the pursuit of understanding Greek and informed criticism of the Bible. I do not mean to attack the way in which Harding teaches the Bible. I do not mean to give another worn out speech against my required attendance of chapel.Every argument I have heard about these things is redundant, and I would not waste your time. I am speaking about an idea that had exploded on my mind and lodged its propaganda-laced shrapnel into my thoughts.
This terrible idea is that God is nothing more than an impotent old man. I wouldn’t have ever said that in so many words, but my total unreliance on God spoke volumes. Because I took a passive approach to my relationship with God, I was starting to believe that he didn’t really do anything anymore. I read about a God who laid the foundations of the earth, who parted a sea and who made a donkey speak.
But for some reason when it came to taking the everyday burdens and stresses in my life to God, I assumed that God does not work in these little details. I didn’t realize that I was limitingGod’s power to something that I could quantify and understand. I am not sure what crack in my theology Satan slipped this lie through, but it had found its way in nonetheless.
My Bible classes only made things worse. My thoughts about God were starting to be pushed into the mundane by all of my class work. I’m not saying that Bible classes are a bad thing. I am saying that there is something awkward about them.
They are a painfully academic study of something that exists on a supernatural plane. They are what they are, and becauseI did not inspect my attitude toward these classes, my ideas about God were lumped into the same category as my ideas about grammar or history.
So there I was, settled into my complacent way of thought, following a God that I didn’t believe did anything. I started thinking of alternatives to going into ministry. I think I landed on trucker/street performer. At this point I started to realize just how I had been stiff-arming God’s attempts to be involved in my life. I also began looking at how little prayer was involved in my life. Prayer has elevated my relationship with God to a level of trust that I never knew existed before. God will open up your world through prayer if you let him.
I’m not creative enough to come up with a story to synthesize my spiritual growth throughout that experience, but I’m sure it would take place on a beach and involve the appropriate amount of sand dollars and footprints in the sand.
