If you have to study religion in the same manner one would study philosophy, if you need to be cerebral in order to fully grasp a religion’s tenets, if you have to study religious faith the way one studies calculus and trigonometry, then seminaries have their work cut out for them. They need extensive outreach programming; they need to get the word out that religious faith is not for the faint of heart or those who have no use for putting their thinking caps on.
For those who prefer feeling to thinking, religion can feel like being left high and dry, because you have to study history, you need to learn a new language. And if you don’t know the lingo, it’s difficult to be part of the conversation.
There must be some middle ground, or at least a starting point.
There’s a true story about Karl Barth, a learned Reformed theologian and prolific writer of some dense volumes of systematic theology who, late in life at a symposium in Chicago, was fielding questions from the audience. The final question was something like “What is the most important thing you’ve learned in your illustrious career?”
Instead of blowing it off as ridiculous and too difficult to answer, Barth closed his eyes and thought for a few moments. Then he looked up and smiled, and said, “The most important thing I’ve learned is this: Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”
Religious faith feeds introspection, contemplation, and expresson. So it’s no surprise that, among other things, we’ve turned it into a linguistic exercise that can intimidate and even short circuit any desire to explore.
Enter Dr. Barth, who has done us the favor of distilling copious amounts of verbiage, and given anyone who is interested a door through which to enter. As good a place as any to start, and to return to as often as needed.
3 Cents' 