Broken Knowledge

For years, I have suffered from something I will call anorexia nervosa anima, a compulsive starving of the soul. As I explain the symptoms, perhaps you’ll recognize something familiar.

I enjoy my homework. On occasion, my assignments require me to spend a few hours in the library. The quiet, the order, the peace of knowing I’m reaching my goal . . . I truly enjoy prolonged study sessions. Once finished, I feel the great satisfaction of knowing I’ve produced something worth my time and the time of the professor who will grade it. I feel satisfied, having fed my soul with beautiful academia.

I enjoy writing. It’s not hard to deduce that from reading this blog, I’m sure. It should be obvious that I take great pleasure in the crafting of words to communicate ideas not only accurately, but also beautifully. I’m coming to understand more deeply the art of poetic knowledge (a dissertation for another day!), and this has a lot to do with the way I write my prose.

Of no surprise to anyone who knows me, I enjoy studying languages. Whether French, German, Portuguese, Greek, Russian, or something I’ve never encountered before, I love to study how people communicate. Particular languages are tailored to communicate particular types of thoughts (which goes into a whole field of philosophy on the question of whether our thoughts shape our words or vice versa), und es freut mich, diesen wegen zu sehen (and it joys me, these ways to be seeing).

It practically goes without saying that I enjoy time spent in God’s Word. To study the Scriptures and catch glimpses of the Inscrutable Mind of God, thereby communing with Him and coming to love Him better . . . I can think of no greater joy. Is this not the very delight of Heaven: to be in glorious community with the Triune God?

And yet, I starve myself of these joys day after day.

My purpose here is a sort of public introspection. I have always thought myself too lazy to discipline myself in these fields of study day after day, but I’m starting to wonder if laziness is truly at the beginning. I perform this introspection in the public blogosphere in the hope that others will read and be struck, finding in their own souls the same sickness I find in mine. After all, is that not the title of my blog?

Every one of the joys I listed above is a form of exercise in epistemology (the study of knowledge and how a person comes to know anything). One of my classes this semester speaks beautifully to the psychological implications of having a skewed (or even broken) epistemology. This professor seems to see all of life through the grid of epistemology, and after two classes with her, I’m starting to get the hang of using that grid. I will write much more on this in the coming months, but suffice it to say now that each of the above joys is a way of coming to know God better, i.e. epistemology + worship.

I still haven’t come to the question of why I starve myself of this worship day after day. Perhaps you will empathize when I say that there are other, perhaps easier, forms of worship about which I make no hesitations. Fellowshipping with friends, for example, is worship for which I will sacrifice just about anything. I don’t use the word “fellowship” lightly; I mean time spent in the presence of the Lord with a close friend. This can be a time of accountability, of theological discussion, of walking through times of confusion or pain, or of prayer. The point is that, in this time of fellowship, my friends and I will strengthen each other in the Lord. We walk away from that time more in love with our Savior and more eager to serve Him.

So what about the worship that takes more effort than fellowship, or going to church, or singing songs of praise? That effort is precisely what sets apart those joys listed at the beginning (homework, languages, devotions). Does that mean I’m lazy? Does that mean that anyone unwilling to engage his mind in solitary pursuit of the knowledge of God is lazy? I don’t think so. Not quite.

I have further ideas on this point, but I’d rather leave what I’ve written thus far to stew on teh internetz for a little while. Before you run off calling me a lazy heretic, though, let me just say I am not satisfied here. I firmly believe that I need to grow in my capacity of will when it comes to actively pursuing the forms of worship outlined above. Won’t you pray with me? I hardly think I’m alone on this.