I began writing this article under the title “An Ode to MO,” alternatively titled “Be Thou My Mr. Blonde” or “There Is Beyond the Basic Brew.” One day I hope to finish that affirmation of affection for my favorite coffeehouse, but it is not this day. As I pondered the more popular locales on campus, I realized that certain places deserve far more attention than they currently receive. My goal is not to profile an already inhabited hot-spot; I prefer to introduce you to an underrated and undiscovered treasure. I realize I may sound hypocritically saint-like in a few sentences, so let me issue a short disclaimer: I have never claimed and cannot claim now to be a perfect Harding student devoid of sin and free from vice. But if you were to ask me where my faith has been nourished the most during these past two plus years of intensive growth, I would point you towards Harding Park and a grassy field beneath the night sky.

At the start of every semester, a student will inevitably ask the question, “Why do we need to pursue personal Bible study? We’re attending classes and chapel five days a week.” A fair point. And if the sole purpose of Bible study were to increase our knowledge of theology, I would agree with our befuddled student. So often we view personal devotions as a task — just another checkmark on our daily to-do sheet. Perhaps this attitude is carried over from a childhood filled with required readings, scheduled family prayers, whatever. However, if you are at college, you are no longer that child who needs the structure of organized prayer; embrace the relationship of Christianity for what it is — a relationship.

In a recent conversation, I was discussing the nature of responsibility within the church. You must understand how detailed I am when it comes to planning; everything in my life has been entered into an agenda and cleared past a five-step “is this socially acceptable?” checklist. My friend was defending the position of not feeling obligated to attend church. I was somewhat shocked; this person had earned my respect over the past couple years. She continued by saying “I don’t want to schedule church into my life; I want to have a desire to come to church.” That moment fueled a minor revelation of my view of Christianity. A certain Bible professor was fond of reminding his students that Jesus is a being with all the complicated passions of any emotional character; in the words of Lucy Pevensie, “He’s not a tame lion.” Christ wants more than just a standard number of hours per week. He is your soul’s lover, not your employer.

Nothing further cemented this relationship view of Christ than a recent visit to Harding Park (see? I tied it back in). The film “Amazing Grace” has a scene where William Wilberforce is lying down on the grass, mesmerized by the intricacy of spiders’ webs. Something about viewing nature has always driven the believer back towards his maker, and that was my experience one night. With a million galaxies in sight and an intricate weave of foliage supporting my head, I remember thinking, “God, I simply want to feel you.” Now, emotional connections aren’t everything; proper theology is also important. But for Harding students who have the advantage of hours of theological training, perhaps we need to rediscover this emotional dynamic. I’m not suggesting we hold a massive prayer-walk through Harding Park, but maybe we can all find a few extra minutes in the day to talk with our father. After which, let us promptly parade over to MO and share the experience while enjoying a Black Bear.