Which shelf are the cookies on?

A big God doesn’t always mean that we need to use big words. (Although sometimes we do).

“I wish they’d put some of the cookies on the bottom shelf,” my seminary friend lamented. We were taking a class on the doctrine of the Trinity, struggling through some thick theological stuff. He was exhausted, working an overnight shift to pay for school; and reading German trinitarian theology wasn’t helping his energy levels. Couldn’t the authors and professors simplify some things? His request has been ringing in my ears for years now, though I often struggle myself to do what he asked. I like words, big theology words, words that sound smart and highfalutin. I battle constantly in my teaching, preaching, and writing against not being too academic or heady.

Case in point. Today at our church, we re-started our Fall session of classes I teach before we gather the congregation for worship. The classes journey through some basics of Christian doctrine. Initially, I wanted to call the studies “Sunday Seminars.” The first one was on hermeneutics, the art and science of biblical interpretation. So we could have been dangerously close to calling this discipleship opportunity, “Sunday Seminar: Hermeneutics.” Thankfully, I got some good counsel about that possibility from my wife. “You’re probably the only person in our church who thinks a ‘seminar’ sounds exciting,” she said. She was right (per usual). What could’ve been “Sunday Seminar: Hermeneutics” became “Learning for Life: How to Read and Study the Bible.” This Fall we’re starting a study of our statement of faith, which is basically systematic theology, a survey of the Bible’s teaching on the most important things. But “Sunday Seminar: Systematic Theology” is instead “Learning for Life: What We Believe.”

Don’t get me wrong: I believe the people of God can handle big thoughts about a big God. Sometimes that means big words. The Bible does use words like “justification,” “propitiation,” and “predestination,” after all. Those cookies sit up on a shelf where you might need a step-ladder. On the other hand, often putting the cookies where God’s people can reach them is little more than taking time to define your terms. For example, “theology” just means the study or word about God (from the Greek words theos, “God,” and logos, “word/study”). Telling the truth about God and his word, though, also means telling stories and singing songs. Think about it this way: for every time God has used the word “propitiation,” he has probably also told us three stories, two proverbs, and sung us multiple songs and psalms. Those are cookies closer to the floor. They’re not less delicious. They’re just easier to get to.

What’s all this amount to? As teachers and communicators, we need to be able and willing to put the cookies within reach. We must be able to explain things in a way that a five year old might begin to understand. At the same time, as learners, we need to be able and willing to stretch up for the higher shelves, at times to get a step stool and reach for the deep things of God.

What about you? Do you struggle with making things too complicated? Or do you struggle with stretching yourself to learn more difficult things? Either way, keep growing, stretching, and learning. God’s cookies are good, no matter what shelf they’re on.