Getting closer
One of the prevailing anxieties of the evangelical world (of which I am a part) is wanting to be—or feel—close to God.
Never mind passages in Paul where the dude says things like Christ lives in me. Or Augustine, who says God is closer to us than we are to ourselves. Our working assumption is that “proximity to God” is not something we already possess, but something we must acquire.
The singer Jon Guerra captures our anxiety well in the title of his song “This is What I Do to Feel Close to You.” We think getting close to God is something we must do.
In our efforts to get closer, we adopt various models and techniques. And we idealize certain people as “close to God.” We draw concentric circles: God at the center, then people who are super close to God, pretty close to God, and so on.
But what kinds of persons do we idealize? Who, exactly, do we assume to be close to God?
People who think big thoughts about God
Often, it is those who can do the most with words. Those who consume the most words about God, rightly comprehend those same words about God, and finally, articulate words about God.
Behind this “words model” are passages like Romans 10:9: “if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” We must comprehend (or “believe in our hearts”) certain things, and then articulate (“confess”) those things.
To be clear, the problem is not words or doctrines themselves, but an overemphasis upon words that keeps certain people from God.
Bad Christians
After all, imagining our life with God as primarily a matter of words is only possible in modernity.
Consider “Daily Bible reading,” a hallmark of evangelical spirituality. The first printed Bible didn’t appear until 1455. And even then, having a Bible in your home meant you were v rich.
My friend Danny likes to say that from the year 400 to the year 1500, being a Christian meant basically this: “My king just became a Christian. I guess I’ll go into the city and get baptized. Now I go to Church on Sundays. I’ll probably die when I’m 35. But eternal life.” The point being: following God was not about consuming, comprehending, and articulating words.
I’m glad Johannes Gutenberg did his thing. And I’m all for some daily Bible reading. But if being a good Christian equals reading the Bible daily, or consuming as many words as possible, then every single layperson born before 1455 was a very bad Christian.
If being a good Christian equals reading the Bible daily, then every single layperson born before 1455 was a very bad Christian.
Hypercognition
The second problem with overemphasizing words is that only those with words get to be “real disciples” of Jesus. As John Swinton asks, what do you do with those who do not have words? Do the “non-verbal” get to be as close to Jesus as the verbal?
Oftentimes…no. For example, many traditions require a “verbal testimony” (and not just a human body) for baptism. That’s their conviction, based on a principled exegesis of Scripture. But as a result, they struggle to give a coherent answer as to what to do, say, when parents desire their autistic child to be baptized. One famous preacher calls such questions a “marginal issue”—but the non-verbal are not straw men. They are real men.
The problem isn’t just with Baptistic traditions, however. Every evangelical setting I’ve encountered has assumed the primary way we connect with God is through words—either the cognition that comes from hearing words, or through emotions which result from singing words.
It is the product of what scholars call hypercognition—the belief that the essence of a human person is their brain. Consider how we talk about people with dementia: they are no longer themselves.
Of all the people you know, imagine the person you consider “closest to God.” Now imagine that person with Alzheimer’s. They can no longer journal their thoughts and emotions towards God. They can no longer offer a “verbal testimony” about him. They can no longer articulate the ins and outs of Jesus’ work on the cross. Are they still a Christian? Are they still close to God?
“Blessed are…”
The third problem with the “words model” is that upon close reading of the Gospels…it doesn’t really hold up.
Take the passages where Jesus calls the disciples. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer points out, when Jesus meets Matthew at the tax booth and commands him to “follow him,” Matthew knows little to nothing about who Jesus is. Yet we would all agree that the instant Matthew follows Jesus, he is a disciple. Those who think big thoughts about God can’t necessarily be the ones closest to him.
Then who is close to God? Jesus seems to tell us in the Beatitudes. These are the ones who shall “see God” and be called “sons of God” and belong to God’s “kingdom”:
the poor in spirit
those who mourn
the meek
those who hunger and thirst for righteousness (or for God)
the merciful
the pure in heart
the peacemakers
the persecuted
This list doesn’t say a single thing about intellectual capacity. It should give us pause as we make decisions about who is or is not close to God. And it might force us to reimagine how to “get close” to God ourselves.
That is, if he isn’t close to us already.
I really enjoyed reading this., and your perspective is really refreshing. I've always enjoyed reading the bible, but at the same time have also often felt that faith can be found in many different ways too. So Words and knowledge are like two roads we can travel to deepening our spirituality - but, without a doubt, they are not the only roads! Sometimes, there is just as much beauty to be found in silence as there is in spoken words! P.s Love the artworks you have chosen here too. The perfect analogy for how gazing at a picture can bring just as much connection to faith as reading a particular book.