:: in.a.mirror.dimly ::

Guest post by Derek Cooper

The book of Proverbs tells us repeatedly to seek wisdom above all things, but it has been experience that this is easier said than done. It has been my experience, in fact, that wisdom is elusive; wisdom is like a leaf that blows in the wind and is always out of my reach or out of my sight. Where can I find wisdom? And how can I get it once I find it?

I had a funny experience happen to me this weekend. To make a long story short, my wife and I are waiting for God to provide for our fifth and final “miracle” this year. God has already completed the first four miracles. But this final miracle has proven feisty. The fifth miracle—that God would provide a new home for us within our budget that would accommodate our growing family—has come close to being fulfilled on several occasions in the past couple of years. But this weekend it was as close to being fulfilled as it could be. I was literally standing in the kitchen of our dream (rental) home, which God had miraculously opened up for us out of the blue. All I had to do was sign the contract there before me. But I would not. I could not. Why? To make an even longer story short, there was a proviso in the contract that necessitated keen judgment on my part or, to state it plainly, wisdom. I had to walk that fine line between faith and reason, trust and responsibility.

And this is when the funny experience I mentioned above occurred. I am in desperate need of a theologian’s wisdom, I said to myself. My thoughts were running quickly in succession before it occurred to me: I am a trained theologian. I spent the last decade of my life earning multiple graduate degrees in theology. I teach theology for a living. I should be asking myself the question—and then promptly providing a variety of adequate and inspiring answers. And yet, despite my degrees and my specialized training, I was unwilling, indeed, incapable of finding a solution to my very basic, thoroughly messy, wholly theological dilemma.

And that’s when I realized that my immediate difficulty was simply indicative of a much more subtle and sinister problem. We’re failing as theology teachers. In fact, maybe I’m failing as a theology teacher. The way we teach theology has to change. It has to enable individuals to address the basic questions of life, for life really is a series of basic questions that we have to answer.

What is Lady Wisdom saying to me these days? “Seek wisdom,” certainly. But she’s added clarity—which of course entails complexity—to her vague statement: “Seek wisdom in the center of the classroom. Teach your students how to think wisely. Your teaching should develop men and women into thoughtful individuals who can navigate the complexities of life with all wisdom, sensibility, sensitivity, and resolve.”

How do I do this? I’m not sure yet, but I will never teach the same way again.