When popped collars were in style, I searched for something greater. I felt I flew above the glamour the upward collar had to offer. I did not need spot lights emphasizing my neck or head anymore than normal. The same happened with Survivor years back. I’m sure it was a great show (maybe still is?), but I’ll never know. And I’m okay with that. Like the zoned out, mesmerized eyes of a child watching an acrobatic feat, I never fell for anything the popular masses succumbed to. I was fairly bias toward originality and cynical of trendy haircuts and naval piercings. I’m not “that guy” and I’m certainly stiff enough to refrain from the uncoordinated limb juggling our society calls dancing. Okay except for an occasional blog. Maybe a Xanga post or 50 (he goin’ way back!). And I only use Facebook to communicate important information. I have to have my Kindle because my eyes get really tired reading on computer screens. So aside from health related issues, I’ve stayed clear of most popular fads (If you don’t follow me on twitter, @benvanscyoc is where the action is. I update very regularly from my iPhone). Oh the judgemental pride I carried with me.
Skepticism seeps and multiplies into an uncontrollable organism with the instinctive nature of lone survival. It cries out for truth but falls short of any practical lifestyle transformation making it like a moody teen traversing the mountains and valley’s of puberty. Imagine the unsatisfying nature of seeking yet never savoring, like a cook who has all the right ingredients to win the competition, and forgets the salt. No matter the fresh combination of juices and seasonings, the lack of salt is like the construction of a home without a foundation.
Often I possess a lack of confidence along with the truth I obtain which allows the blossoming of inhibitions and cynicism toward those overtly passionate about the truth within them. But what good is truth if it’s suppressed by the lies of timidity? If truth is only for me to look at and not enjoy, then it is much like baking a cake, cleaning away the leftover traces of flour and batter droplets, and placing the final product in the freezer to be preserved and untouched by the taste buds of the hungry. Is the cake a waste? Not necessarily. It still exists with the potential of satisfying a belly or five, but remains imprisoned by a coward, one who is ironically afraid of criticism, skepticism and cynicism. A very self-conscious Baker. One who in fact, just might be worried about the amateur quality of their own culinary creation. After all, who wants to offer a box cake at a party where everyone has been formally introduced to Mama’s, “It Came from Scratch Carmel Cake?” It’s easy for the lack of self assurance to form around the confidence Christ desires to burst from our lives.
There exists a tremendous fear to ask questions which challenge the foundation of what we believe to be true. But what is untested truth? Does it have value? Can it withstand storms, a raging sea, broken relationships, or loneliness? Untested truth is a foolish facade of a heart that is stubborn and unwilling to rest and trust in the power of God and His craftsmanship with our character. And those who fear the questions of the disenchanted will find themselves far from a faith that overflows into a lifestyle of serving and sacrifice.
For some time I’ve fueled an inner desire to find answers to tough questions regarding Christianity. Call it a search or an expedition. I’m certain there are experts who are further along than me, but I’m still gathering and learning. I’m not a library of thoughts or a genius that has all the answers to the unknown compiled in a card catalog (whoa that’s dated). I’m still building on foundation after foundation, and at times, I’m hit with questions or doubts that send me to my knees weeping with uncertainty. And other times, I’m surrounded by such a deep, sincere community seeking the humility of Christ that I can’t help but give myself, my time, my hands, and my feet to the will of God. I find the latter always profitable regardless of my doubting spirit. Like Thomas’ willingness to die in spite of his uncertain moments (John 11:1-16).
I love how the familiar story of Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well ends with her leaving her jar of water to go and tell others of the self-severing truth she encountered. And how Jesus’ disciples kept urging Him to eat something, but instead he said, “I have food to eat that you don’t know about.”[1] He further explains that his food was to do the will of his Father—to finish His work. And he shows them with a sense of urgency that the fields are ready to harvest. The story ends with the Samaritans not merely believing because of what the woman had said, but because they had heard for themselves. They knew this really was the Savior of the world. And in this great encounter, we find a woman in an endless pursuit of satisfaction who finds truth in the most simple form of living water.
May we all thirst and hunger for the Way, the Truth, and the Life who finds us on our weariest of journeys, feeds our hungry hearts with truth, and gives us the way to eternal life. May we be diligent, never seeking knowledge for the sake of knowing, but seeking the wisdom of Christ for the sake of sharing.
5Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” 6 Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”[2]
[1]The Holy Bible : Holman Christian standard version. 2003 (Jn 4:32). Nashville: Holman Bible Publishers.
[2]The Holy Bible : English standard version. 2001 (Jn 14:5–6). Wheaton: Standard Bible Society.
