When Love Matters Most of All.
A few short weeks ago I walked across the stage to receive a diploma. Well, to receive the thing that my diploma goes in (I still haven't received my real one, though I just checked and the internet says I graduated, so I assume I'll get it one of these days). Anyway, a three year ride through seminary has landed me with the lofty sounding degree of a Master of Arts in Christian Thought. And while I had high hopes of mastering the art of Christian thought, the old adage has proven true: the more you know, the more you know you don't know. It stinks, really. All the philosophical and theological jargon packed somewhere into the back of my brain hasn't made me smarter. If anything, it's made me less certain of every last peripheral thing. It's not that my faith has been shaken. That's not it at all. It's that the plethora of debated arguments about God don't rile me up like they once did. Everyone has reasons for believing the slight variations...