Embracing Foolishness

I have found a tendency in my heart to want to have all the answers. To have my bases covered. To chew up, swallow, and digest truth in a single sitting. To take a complex theological question like assurance of salvation and make verses like Hebrews 6:6 and 2 Timothy 2:12 lie down peacefully with John 10:29 and Romans 8:30. To be able to (as Blake puts it) "pull God out of heaven, and box Him up so we can predict and control Him."

Then this morning I read the brilliant statement from the apostle Paul: "For Christ did not send me to baptize, but to preach the gospel—not with words of human wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power." (1 Corinthians 1). I love the fact that this verse comes right after Paul finishes scolding the denominational factions of his day, but that's a topic for another day.

It doesn't make sense to us that there is so much tension in the Bible. Tension between Christ's humanity and divinity. Tension between our responsibility and God's sovereignty. Tension between Paul and James. But that's exactly the point. God doesn't follow our rules and He doesn't have a very high regard for human wisdom. He chose something as "foolish" as death on a cross to bring redemption. The Jews wanted miracles, glory, and conquest. The Greeks prized intellect and human philosophy. Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey. We know today that it was already prophesied, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't a part of the popular systematic theology of the day.

Not that I think God wants people to raise their hands and say: "God's just too complicated for humans to comprehend, so I won't even attempt to." He wants our minds to be in full pursuit of Him. To thirst for a deeper knowledge of the infinite and never be satisfied. But I think He also wants us to remember that the best of our wisdom still doesn't approach His "foolishness". And that's OK with me.