If you were to decide that you wanted to be a carpenter, you
would, hopefully, go find an experienced carpenter, and ask to be apprenticed
under them. We can assume that carpenter
would teach you the basics of carpentry i.e. hammer, nails, saws, measuring
tapes and so on. At some point you would
become proficient enough for that carpenter to send you to build a house. Suppose he does just that and gives you
squares and levels to go do so. If those
tools are misaligned, it is easy to see how the house you would build wouldn't
be plumb, square, or level. Who would be
to blame for this situation? It would be
easy to blame either the apprentice or the master, or even the tools themselves. As any good carpenter knows though, it is
best to pin it on the electrician. Aside
from that, it is often said that it is the poor carpenter that blames his
tools. This is very true. It is easy to check the accuracy of any
layout tool, and possible, in most cases to correct or at least account for
these discrepancies.
But one of the key aspects of being a carpenter is to learn
to sense when something is wrong. “That
wall just looks out of plumb, let’s check it.”
“Something’s not right here, grab a different square.” For the true carpenter, there is not only an
ability to build things, but an appreciation for a thing done well. There is, in essence, a love of the
build. I have seen this in all aspects
of carpentry, not just in finish carpentry.
In industrial scaffolding, for example, there is great pride in the building
of a structure a hundred feet tall that will support and protect the work and
lives of countless other crafts. There
is even greater pride in doing it cleanly, quickly, and safely. There is beauty in a well-framed soffit, or a
perfectly curved wall. These things are
not easy, but they are worth doing, and worth doing well.
And so, if the house is not built properly, the fault really
goes back to both carpenters—in the master for not instilling the value of good
carpentry in the apprentice, and in the apprentice for not cultivating his
craft.
Our lives of faith are much the same. There are many out there who, through no
fault of their own, have grown up with very bad theology and bad understandings
of God and the Bible. Their situation is
much to be lamented. Those that taught
them poorly are very much at fault for not teaching a better, more holistic
understanding of faith. But the blame
does not stop there. The carpenter
cannot blame the tools he was given if he has failed to cultivate a love for
the craft which would enable him to sense when something is wrong. Like the carpenter who investigates a situation
which doesn't feel right, we need to cultivate a love for God that enables us
to sense when something we have been taught isn't quite right or is often just
plain wrong. Unfortunately what often
happens is that people find their spiritual house out of square, and rather
than investigating it and determining where it went wrong, and how to make it
right, they assume that the whole of faith is wrong and chuck it
altogether.
We are often faced with questions that challenge or
contradict our faith. When we find those
questions, it is worth asking, “Is my understanding of the Christian faith to
blame for this—is there some place where I have really misunderstood what
Christianity is all (or partially) about?”
But rather than checking our tools, that is, our theology, we assume
that our theology is in order, continue to build the house out of square, out
of plumb, and out of level, and then are surprised when it comes crashing down
around us.
Even mediocre theology can answer a lot of questions that
arise in our faith journey. Good
theology can answer a lot of questions.
Bad theology can answer all questions, until it stops, at which point we
find that it never really answered any.
A good theology is one that listens to the voice of the Bible along with
the voices of the saints throughout history, and what we find is that it
answers our questions in such a way that our world grows larger, not smaller,
and yet allows for the continued questioning and searching that we were in fact
designed for.
