As a kid, I loved model airplanes. There was something fun about saving up enough coins and one-dollar bills to be able to buy the model of a Grumman F-14 Tomcat, a Lockheed F-117 Stealth Fighter, or a Boeing 737 (occasionally, there was even a model car or two.). I enjoyed the super glue, way-too-expensive paints and decals that took quite the finesse to get just right.
Imagine if all I had done with my model kits was taken them home and oohed-and-aahed over the plastic parts. “What amazing parts,” I might have thought. “Look at the wing half on this one!”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you say? You might even argue that the purpose of buying a kit was to put it together, that in putting it together, I’d learn the way things worked and went together. And you’d be right.
I think that, oftentimes, we theologians do the same thing with God. We can get some sort of knowledge—a new Bible study, a lecture, a book on this or that—and learn plenty about God, but can miss really knowing Him, miss the interaction He longs to have with us as people He created, miss the intimate relationship He desires to have with us. I know my own hang-up in “unwrapping the box” and going deep with God is because there are parts of my soul that don’t believe that Jesus is who He says He is. And that is true for each one of us. And so, where we are aloof in our walk with Jesus, may we cast off this hesitancy and shout the cry of the father of the demon-possessed boy, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24). And may all our pursuits of knowledge, theological and otherwise, help us dive more deeply into knowing Him more fully.