In the book of Genesis, we read the story of Joseph, son of Jacob, who, though sold as a slave into Egypt, became the second most powerful man in that country, second only to Pharaoh. As we recall, the land of Egypt enjoyed a seven year period of bountiful harvest during which Joseph collected the excess harvest and stored it because God had revealed to Pharaoh that bountiful period would be followed by a seven year period of famine. Joseph was able to keep the people of Egypt alive by selling them the food that he had stored over the seven years of bounty. In Genesis 47 we read that the people first bought grain with their money, and when the money ran out, they gave Pharaoh their livestock in exchange for food, and when the livestock were all sold, they sold their land and themselves to Pharaoh. The Egyptians became landless slaves, reduced to servitude to Pharaoh.

In verses 22 and 25 we are told that the only exception was that the priests of Egypt, because they received an allotment from Pharaoh, were able to keep their land and their freedom. By the end of the famine, only the priests of Egypt were free people who owned their own land. Pharaoh owned all the rest.

We might pass this mention of the special treatment of the priests by because it seems like an irrelevant point, but when we consider it more carefully, we understand how important the priests were considered to be for the welfare of Egypt. The Egyptians, along with nearly every other nation, attributed their wellbeing to the intervention and provision of their gods. Priests were employed to ensure that the gods were properly appeased and respected so that the nation would prosper.

The role of the priests, the religious sector of society, for most of history, has been considered to be essential for the wellbeing of most of the nations and peoples of the world. This was because the gods were considered to be relevant for the daily wellbeing of the people. If the gods were happy, the people were happy. If the gods were unhappy, the people suffered, so it was best to keep the gods happy. So essential was the presence of the priests that they were given special privilege, for the priests, after all, were the ones who kept the gods happy.

The point is this: religion and life were closely tied together. Religion was not a separate, private and individual choice, but, rather, an essential part of life. Every part of life was affected by religion, and religion was considered to hold life together, for God was the foundation of religion.

In the western world, which became predominantly Christian in the 4^th and 5^th centuries, the presence of God was seen to be essential. Prior to the upsurge in Christianity, the Roman gods held sway, and the Roman gods had the role of being sustainers and providers. When the Christian God was recognized and worshipped, he simply replaced the Roman gods, the true God replacing false gods. It was a transition, but the idea that the Lord God was as essential to daily life as the Roman gods had been did not change.

The western world, like ancient Egypt, gave special privilege to their religious sector, in particular, the church. Churches did not pay taxes on their land, and with the advent of income tax, donations to the religious sector resulted in the return of some of that income tax. Because God was considered important for all of life, it was important that the church (the replacement for the priests of pagan religions) was given the opportunity to thrive.

As many of us are aware, our current federal government is considering removing the charitable status of faith based organizations, including but not limited to the church. There are some cries of outrage voiced by those who practice their faith, but, surprisingly, there is very little of this proposal in the news. The change, it seems, is going largely unnoticed.

Many of us are outraged by this proposal, but we should not be surprised by it. If it is true that religious institutions were given special privilege because they maintained the connection between God and the world, we must also recognize that in Canada as in much of the West, God has become unimportant and the church has become irrelevant, at least as far as maintaining the health and stability of society. The vast majority of Canadians don’t acknowledge the importance of God, and, as a consequence, they don’t see much advantage in helping faith-based organizations to thrive. While many people say that they believe in God, they live as if God doesn’t exist (practical atheism), making the necessity of continuing to be connected to God irrelevant.

Our federal government may not be doing anything groundbreaking in proposing to eliminate the charitable status of faith-based organizations; all it might be doing is following the practices and beliefs of the people.

So, what has replaced God as the stabilizing force in society? Quite simply put, it is the economy. Economic numbers have taken the place of the proclamation of God’s Word as being the driving force of change. Those who control interest rates are the new priests and economic forecasters are the new prophets. Economic growth is seen to be the stabilizing force for our world, replacing God as the Provider. And the ones receiving the tax breaks? Rich business people and their corporations, at least in some countries.

It should not surprise us that this is happening, for in a democracy the government does not lead but, rather, it follows the will and desires of the people. If the economy provides us with stability and prosperity, then it can be expected that the government will move its support from churches and give it to the economic movers and shakers. Thus, it is not surprising that money be withheld from faith-based organizations and be given to those who “can truly make our lives better.”

Jesus would disagree with the trends we see. He would strongly argue against the belief that a growing economy is the most important thing. He would lament the privatization of religion and the growing idea that God has no relevance.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus taught that the church is the salt of the earth and the light of the world. Salt preserves food and gives it flavour. Salt provides electrolytes to our bodies so that they thrive. Light enables us to see the way, and it enables people to do their work and so fulfill God’s calling. The economy and its economists are not salt and light. But the church is, for it is the church that keeps this world connected to God, and God is the source of our lives, our provisions, and our stability.

Perhaps the best response, then, to the proposed changes in charitable receipts is not that we protest with outrage that our government is doing wrong, although protesting may be one way to make our voices heard. Again, our government seems merely seems to be following the leading of the people. Perhaps the best response by the church is to show how God is relevant, how it is to our Creator God that we owe our existence and our lives, and it is in his grace that we find security (salvation) both now and for eternity. Our witness to the stabilizing, blessed presence of God in our lives and society may be the best way to respond to current trends. If the status of the church is minimized, it is because God has become insignificant. The way to change that trend is to witness to the grace of God in Jesus Christ. The church, as the mediator between God and humanity, is relevant, for God is relevant. But to prove that point, the church needs to be faithful in making God known in the gospel message of Jesus Christ so that the world can again know that God is there and that we need him.

A number of years ago, I was approached by someone visiting our church for a Sunday morning service, and this individual told me that he was angry because he had come to church to visit friends from long ago but had ended up feeling accused by what I had said in my sermon. He was a son of the congregation but had moved away years earlier and was not living for the Lord. His purpose in attending church was to reconnect with some of the people he had not seen in years. He did not expect to be castigated for his sin, he told me. His hour at church had not met his expectations.

Recently someone shared a post on-line which talked about the value of a sermon. In that post, there was a lament that we rarely remember sermons and with that lament came the question of whether or not attending the worship service was really all that crucial. Someone reminded the author that while we do not remember most of the meals we have eaten, we benefitted from them all even though we could not recollect what we ate three days ago. We are often encouraged to go to church because we need to be fed.

Which of the above two examples is correct? Certainly there is an aspect of fellowship that we experience on a Sunday morning when we attend a worship service. And, of course, we do expect to grow in our knowledge of God and the salvation he has given us in Jesus. But what if we find the sermon boring and none of our friends are at church that Sunday? Is there any point in going?

Perhaps the reason for attending communal worship is not primarily to fellowship with other believers or to be fed spiritually. Perhaps the reason is simpler: it is to worship God. Someone has said that in a worship service, especially when we are singing, there is only one person in the audience, and that is God. (Since we are Trinitarians, we would argue that that is incorrect, for it is three Persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit!) Worshipping God is the reason we attend communal worship services, for that is the point of the worship service.

If (since) that is the case, that does leave remarkable little room to excuse ourselves from the worship service. We can worship God even if we don’t know anyone else in the room, and we can worship God even if the sermon is a little boring or somewhat irrelevant. If we don’t like the music genre or the prayers are too long, we can still worship God. Even if the entire service is in a different language, one that we don’t understand, we can worship God. In fact, the only reason for not accomplishing the main goal of the worship service, worshipping God, is because we didn’t worship God. Only we can make that happen, and our worship of God is not dependent on who else might there or what happens during the service. Worshipping God is something we decide to do, and it is something that we must do intentionally. It doesn’t just happen.

But one might argue, do we really need to attend a worship service to worship God? No, we don’t. Not really. Some say that they worship God better by going for a walk in creation. I do not doubt that they are telling the truth. We do have to ask ourselves if that it is equally beneficial to worship God alone in a beautiful place in creation in comparison to engaging in communal worship with others. Or, what about the opportunity now afforded us through technology, the opportunity to join the worship service remotely. Is that not beneficial. Again, I do not doubt that those who chose to worship remotely are blessed, and for that we can be glad. We do recognize that the opportunity to worship remotely was created so that those who cannot attend can at least participate instead of giving an opportunity for those who can but choose not to.

A few decades ago, I was living in a part of Mexico where few people spoke English. I regularly attended church, and early on in my stay in Mexico, I spoke almost no Spanish and understood less. Mostly I attended a fairly large church named Nuevo Jerusalem (New Jerusalem), a Presbyterian church, and I rarely understood anything of the sermon. I did take my English Bible so I could at least understand what was read. I also participated in the singing, although, I confess, while I sang the words, I did not know what they meant. At the end of the service I had not learned much from the sermon and I did not really fellowship with others, mostly because I couldn’t understand what they were saying. But I was blessed.

Without a doubt I could have gone for a walk in the beautiful parks and countryside surrounding the city where I was living, and that would have been beneficial. But I would have missed out on gathering with God’s people for worship. There was something about being with other believers who believed that Jesus had died for their sins and who sought to make him Lord of every part of their lives that strengthened me. It was beneficial to be among them.

I think that what was happening was that their worship was carrying me into the presence of God. I was worshipping God with them as I was borne along by their praises and prayers. Being part of a worshipping community encouraged me in my worship as well.

I do believe that if the sermons were always boring and irrelevant (or in another language) and if I didn’t know anyone else in the building, that it would be more difficult to be motivated to attend communal worship. These things are not unimportant. But they are not the most important thing that we do when we gather as believers. The most important thing that we do is worship the God who made us and saved us, and when we do with others, their worship enhances our worship.

Our expectations regarding the worship service do determine if we will be fulfilled. If we are looking for a good sermon, we will sometimes be disappointed. If we are looking for fellowship, we may not always find someone to talk to. If we are seeking to worship God, however, we always will, and if the communal worship service does not meet that expectation, chances are that is more our own problem than anything else. God will be worshipped if we worship him, and if that is our expectation, we will never be disappointed.

A generation is often defined as the period of time from when a child is born until they have their first child. The length of a generation varies a little from culture to culture, but, on average, we can define a generation as being about 25 years (Note that English translations of the Bible sometimes use the word, “generation,” but it may not be the best translation of the original language. For example, in Genesis 15:16, “generation” seems to refer to a period of 100 years. This is a mistranslation, not a problem with the original text). It is approximately 2025 years since Jesus was born (give or take a few years because the original calculations were not quite correct), which means that 81 generations have passed since the incarnation of Jesus. That may seem like a lot, but if we had the records of those generations, it would not be an impossible task to memorize the names of our ancestors. Sadly, records do not exist for most of us before the 1600s, so we can’t do that memory work, but it would be fascinating if we could.

As I reflect on it, it would not have been hard for my ancestors to have taught their children the names of those who had gone before, and if they had been diligent in passing that information along, I would have had access to that list and maybe I would have been able to list my ancestors back to the time of Jesus. I’m not sure what benefit that would have, and perhaps that is why the lists have not been passed from one generation to the next. Still, it is fascinating to know that my grandparents from 80 generations ago lived at the same time as Jesus. And my ancestors from 160 generations ago lived at the same time as Abraham. Saying that Abraham lived 160 generations ago makes him seem a lot closer than if we say he lived 4000 years ago.

In the Bible we have a number of genealogies. The first nine chapters of 1 Chronicles are mostly genealogies, and we find many more scattered throughout the Bible. In the New Testament, there are only two genealogies, both of them of Jesus, one found in Matthew 1 and the other in Luke 3. These genealogies serve several purposes, but the primary purpose is connect people from different periods of history. Thus, Abraham, by means of genealogy, is connected to Noah. Jesus, in Matthew’s gospel is connected to Abraham and in Luke’s gospel, to Adam who is connected to God his Creator. Although genealogies played an important role in the Bible, Jews today do not keep the same genealogical records, for there is no significant reason for them to do so. As long as a Jewish person can trace their lineage back a generation or two to someone who is also Jewish, that is sufficient to guarantee them an identity as an ethnic Jew. They do not need to go back all the way to Abraham to prove that they are part of the people of Israel. Further, not all people who identify as Jewish can trace their ancestry back to Abraham because some of them are descendants of those who converted to Judaism and were accepted into the Jewish community. While for some Judaism is a mere ethnic attribute, true Judaism is a religious one, and someone who is truly a Jew by faith is considered part of Abraham’s family by other Jews.

For a Christian our biological ancestry does not determine our faith. I do not know when my ancestors first became followers of Jesus Christ, but from what I can tell, for generations my ancestors have been Christians. I am part of a long Christian heritage. I suppose I could go back to the church records and find dates of baptisms and professions of faith, and I could determine the depth of my Christian background, but that would not serve any real purpose. What includes me in the Christian community is not my ancestral heritage but my relationship with God through Jesus Christ. In other words, while I am grateful to belong to a long Christian heritage, I am even more grateful that by God’s grace, I am included in God’s family.

I am included in God’s family through adoption. My sister and her husband are in the process of adopting their foster child, and the paperwork should be finalized in a few weeks. Their son will gain a new family name, and his ancestry will become my sister’s ancestry, and, by extension my ancestry as well. In Christian-speak we would consider his adoption to be his conversion, for he is becoming part of a new family just as we become part of God’s family through faith in Jesus Christ.

I am an adopted child of God through Jesus Christ, and my genealogy has become the genealogy of God’s family. In other words, because I am Jesus’ adopted brother, his ancestry becomes my ancestry. While my biological genealogy might be unknown, my faith genealogy is found in the Bible. The genealogy of Jesus becomes my genealogy because of my adoption.

I suppose it would be nice had my ancestors passed down the list of names of my ancestors for the past 2000 years. It would not have been hard to memorize those 80 or so names. But for what point? What would I gain by knowing the names of people I have never met and will never meet this side of heaven? Probably very little. But God, in his grace, has adopted me as his child, and he has given me an ancestry which leads right back to him through Jesus Christ. Jesus’ ancestry becomes my ancestry, and, for that reason, I know to whom I am connected. I am connected to God and am his child. I may meet many of the people from those 80 generations when I get to heaven, but, more importantly, by God’s grace, I will meet the rest of my family, beginning with Jesus who I will see face to face.

Seventeen hundred years ago, in the year 325 AD, leaders of the church met in the small city of Nicea (near what is known as Istanbul) to talk about Jesus. Christianity had just been made legal and had become the preferred religion in the Roman Empire, and a lot of people had questions about what the Bible teaches. Among them was the question of the exact nature of Jesus. Is Jesus divine? Is he human? Is he both?

Let’s consider ourselves first. All human beings alive today are the result of the combination of genetics from both a man and a woman. (There is no evidence that says there are cloned human beings today, contrary to the claims of some.) Every single person alive has attributes of both their biological father and mother, but they have only one nature, the human nature which is ours since we were conceived. We are all fully human and we are only human.

Jesus is different from us. He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, we learn in both Matthew and Luke, and the Holy Spirit is God. Jesus has no biological earthly father. His conception was a miracle, and it makes Jesus quite different from us. Somehow in Jesus there is both a divine nature and a human nature, but how those two interact had to be defined. Christians wanted to know who Jesus is.

As people considered Jesus’ conception, they began to ask, “How do his two natures, his human nature and his divine nature interact?” Some suggested that perhaps Jesus’ body was a lot like a costume which he put on for the duration of his time on this earth. He never really became human, they say. Others suggested that Jesus was more human than divine, perhaps more like a superhero who has had something happen to him that gives him extra powers. Neither answer to the question of the nature of Jesus is entirely satisfactory in that neither answer can be fully supported by Scripture.

The church of the early 4^th century decided that it needed to study Scripture to find a definitive answer, and after years of research, conversation, and writing, the basis for the Nicean Creed was developed. The Nicean Creed says that Jesus is both fully human and fully divine, meaning that he is fully God and he is fully human. He has two different natures while the rest of the people who walked this earth have only one. While this is difficult to wrap our minds around (it is outside of normal experience), we have to accept the teaching of Scripture as being true.

This whole discussion might seem a little “ivory tower,” meaning that it is of interest only to those who want to write doctoral dissertations, but there happen to be some very practical implications.

The first implication has to do with God the Son. God the Son always existed and is as eternal as God the Father. It wasn’t until just over 2000 years ago that God the Son was conceived and born of Mary. It was at that moment in time that God the Son took a human nature even while maintaining his divine nature. God the Son became one of us even while he remained fully God. Although the Bible does not state this explicitly, all the evidence points to the fact that Jesus will remain fully human for the rest of eternity. We know, for example, that Jesus will return in bodily form, returning as he left on Ascencion Day.

When we consider that God the Son, for the remainder of eternity, will remain fully human, we should be astounded. Why would the eternal Son of God bind himself to humanity in such a way? We know the answer, of course: he did it so that we can be saved. And this leads to the implications of the natures of Jesus for us.

The most important one is that Jesus can offer himself as a fitting sacrifice for our sins. Up to the point of Jesus’ death on the cross, the sacrifices that were offered didn’t have lasting value. Those sacrifices had to repeated because, as beneficial as the sacrifices were, the death of a lamb or young goat is not sufficient to fully pay the price for our sins. The only appropriate sacrifice for human sin is the life of a human. Jesus gave his life for us, and his life was sufficient to earn for us our salvation. Jesus had to be fully human to do this or else we would not be saved.

But there is another important aspect for us today. As we know, Jesus serves are our mediator in heaven. When we pray, we do so in the name of Jesus, and our prayers are mediated to the throne of God the Father through Jesus Christ. To put it another way, we know with absolute assurance that God the Father hears our prayers because of Jesus Christ, his Son who is also God. He is our great High Priest, a task and role reserved for a human being, something that we would not have if Jesus did not stand in God’s throne room and speak on our behalf, and he can speak with confidence because he is the eternal Son of God.

We might say, in a sense, that in becoming human, the eternal Son of God sacrificed himself, and he did it for us. There was no benefit for him in so doing. But the benefit for us is without equal: we are saved for eternity, and we always have someone interceding for us before the throne of God the Father. We may not have access to the office of the Prime Minister or the Premier of Alberta, but we have access to the most powerful seat of government that is, God’s throne room. And our voices may never be heard by our Prime Minister or Premier, but they will always be heard by God because of Jesus Christ.

What is so amazing, to repeat something that was said earlier, is that the eternal Son of God, took on human flesh, knowing that this would be a permanent thing. When we join him in eternal life, we will see him as a human being, even while he remains fully God. One would wonder why Jesus would give up so much, and the only answer we can give is this: because he loves us and invites us to enjoy his gracious presence for all of eternity.

The church gathered to talk about Jesus, and their discussion can seem esoteric. Let us be assured, however, that the theology they found in Scripture has significant and life-changing implications for us and our salvation. What Jesus did has life-changing significance for him as well, but he did it for us, and that was enough.

Calculus is the language that God talks. This quote is attributed to Richard Feynman in a conversation with Herman Wouk, the author of Winds of War and War and Remembrance, books that tell the story of WWII. Feynman, although an atheist himself, proposed to Wouk that if he did not understand calculus, he could not understand God fully.

For those who did not have the privilege of studying it in high school, calculus is the branch of mathematics that measures change. The physical world is constantly changing, and mathematicians and scientists are discovering that those changes are very orderly and follow predictable mathematical sequences.

Let me give one example: the cadets in our cadet club build cub cars that they race down a track. We know that it is gravity that pulls those cars down the track and they accelerate all the way down the track. The winning car, we all understand, is the one which is the best built and which creates the least friction when it is moving. We know from laws of motion that it doesn’t matter how heavy the car is, it will accelerate down the track at a set rate, dependent entirely on the angle of the track. If all the cadets built cars that generated no friction as they ran down the track, they would all finish at exactly the same time regardless of how heavy they were. Again, it is friction that causes the cars to run at different rates, not the weight of the car.

Let’s say that the cadets did build a car that generated no friction against the track and which did not succumb to wind resistance. As the car moves down the track, it will accelerate as long as the track is at an incline, for gravity will continue to pull on it. Acceleration is the rate of change of speed, as we well know if we drive a car. Speed is easy to measure because all we have to do is take the distance we travel and divide it by the time we travelled. Thus, if we drive 100 km for one hour, we would say that our speed was 100 km/h. We talk about speed all the time, and it is easy enough to measure.

Acceleration is more difficult to measure because the speed changes. So, if we return to the cub cars on the track, can we predict how far a car will go in a given period of time? It turns out that although the rate of speed varies, the distance it travels at any point in time is predictable. Let me illustrate:

• The track is angled so that the car travels exactly 1 metre in the first second.
• In the second second, it will travel 3 metres. (Those who have built tracks such as these have done the measuring for us.)
• In the third second, it will travel 5 metres.
• In the fourth second it will travel 7 metres.

Here is the amazing thing:

• After 1 second, the car has travelled 1 metre.
• After 2 seconds, the car has travelled 4 metres (1+3) which is 2².
• After 3 seconds, it has travelled 9 metres (1+3+5) which is 3².
• After 4 seconds, it has travelled 16 metres (1+3+5+7) which is 4².

This means that we can predict how far the car will have travelled in 10 seconds.

It will have travelled 100 metres (10²), for if we add together the first 10 odd numbers (1+3+5+7+9+11+13+15+17+19), we also get 100. Further, without measuring, we can also say that in the 11^th second, the car will travel 21 metres, and it will be going at an average speed of 21 m/s for that second which is 75.6 km/h.

If you don’t like math, your eyes may be crossing and your brain spinning, so let me just say this: normal, simple math enables us to measure speed, something that is constant, and something that we all use. But if we want to measure the change in speed (acceleration), something that varies, we need calculus. When we engage in this study, we begin to understand that even change is governed by laws of constancy.

So, who wants to measure the rate of change in anything? It turns out that nearly every single modern discovery depends on knowing the rate of change. Our cell phones, computers, animated Disney movies, GPS systems, rifle scopes, satellites, and just about any flying object require calculus (the measure of the rate of change) in their design. We don’t have to understand calculus in order to use these inventions, but their existence depends on mathematical field of calculus.

In Psalm 19 the psalmist says that the heavens declare the glory of God, that they reveal to us what kind of God we have. The Belgic Confession says that creation is a book which reveals who God is, illustrating his majesty and power. Neither the one who wrote the psalms, nor the author of the Belgic Confession had studied calculus, and they could not have known that the whole universe follows very defined laws that govern the rate of change so that we, as human beings, can use what is in creation and develop it further to meet our needs.

So, why did Richard Feynman tell Herman Wouk that calculus is the language God speaks? In a world where everything is changing, we might feel that things are out of control. Until the last few centuries, most mathematicians and scientists were somewhat afraid of studying change because it seemed so variable or random. But calculus has taught us that even the changes in this world are governed by the laws that have been set into this universe. To put it another way, God is not only the God of that which is constant and unchanging, he is the God of that which changes. Understanding calculus and being able to use it helps us understand the book of God’s creation a lot better, and when we read that book, we know God more, for we can hear him speaking. Thus, not only does God speak in the beauty of a sunset or the power of a volcano; he also speaks to us in the symbols, numbers, and geometric shapes of the field of mathematics known as calculus. The implication of all of this: we need not fear change, for God governs even that.

About 400 years before Jesus was born, a man named Socrates was put on trial in the city of Athens. Socrates had been charged with corrupting the youth of his city by putting ideas into their heads which were contrary to the accepted way of thinking. He was found guilty, and he was given the choice of one of two punishments: he could be exiled to a distant place for the rest of his life, or he could choose the death sentence. Socrates chose to die, and he was given a poison which killed him. Either punishment, exile or death, was considered to be justified because his accusers believed that Socrates, in filling the minds of the young people of his city with “unacceptable” ideas, was endangering the fabric of society. Removing him from the city prevented him from spreading his “unhealthy” ideas.

Socrates was a philosopher, literally, a “lover of wisdom.” He sought to understand himself and the world around him. As a philosopher he wanted to know more because he wanted to live as best he could in this world. Gaining wisdom would enable him to do that, and he used this desire as his defense at his trial. Plato, one of Socrates’ students, records for us that at his trial, to defend himself, Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” What he meant by that is that if we go through life never asking questions, our lives will be meaningless and empty. In asking questions (and Socrates is famous for asking questions), we gain a deeper understanding of life. If we don’t ask questions and seek the answers, according to Socrates, we will miss out on a lot of life.

Scripture would agree with Socrates, in some aspects. The Bible contains a significant amount of wisdom literature: Proverbs, Song of Songs, Ecclesiastes, and numerous “wise” sayings throughout the other books. The wisdom that Solomon imparts in the book of Proverbs, for example, was gained not only through a special blessing from God but from years of studying the world around him. Scripture teaches us that wisdom is “more precious than rubies, and nothing you desire can compare with her” (Proverbs 8:11). Wisdom is more than just knowing facts; it is about how to apply those facts so that we can live well. According to both Socrates and Scripture, there is nothing more important than obtaining wisdom. If we spend money on anything, it should be wisdom.

Wisdom is gained by asking questions about life. Knowledge is also gained by asking questions, and those questions have to do with “what” and “how.” What is that? How does this work? Wisdom is gained by asking the question, “Why?” Why are things the way they are? Without knowledge, of course, there cannot be wisdom, for knowledge is the basis of wisdom. But mere knowledge does not result in wisdom until we ask the question, “Why?” Perhaps Socrates was accused of misleading the youth because he encouraged them to ask the question “Why?” and when they did, the authorities of the city of Athens felt challenged. When asked the question, “Why?” it can seem as if the one who is asking is asking us to adopt new ideas. The truth, however, is that we are being challenged to examine if what we currently are doing is truly wise or if it is something that might actually be unproductive or harmful.

Cattle don’t ask, “Why?” something that those who feed cattle can be thankful for. If a cow asked, “Why is the farmer feeding me such good food and in such generous quantities?” she might lose her appetite. The farmer is not feeding the cow because he loves her or wants what is ultimately the best for the cow; he is feeding the cow because he wants what is best for himself. We can be thankful that cows live unexamined lives, to use the words of Socrates or else feedlot owners might have a rebellion on their hands.

It is not hard to imagine how others may use us for their purposes if we do not think about that important question, “Why?” We do not want to be like cows who blindly live life without a real understanding of our purpose. We may feel happy, but we might not like the consequences.

In asking “Why?” Solomon gained wisdom about life. He discovered that “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.” The phrase “fear of the Lord,” does not mean that we are terrified of him but, rather, that we have a healthy respect shown toward a powerful God who holds our lives in his hands. Asking, “Why?” of things should lead us to understand that there a God who is sovereign over this world and to whom we owe our lives and futures. Simply asking the question, “Why do I exist?” must lead us to conclude that we exist because an outside force of some sort has acted in such a way to give us existence. We are not self-creating, and, if we ask enough questions, we will discover that we are not self-sustaining either. Asking “Why?” enough times will lead us to conclude that there must be someone outside of us who is bigger than us. It could be that the reason that so many people don’t acknowledge the existence and rightful authority of God is that they didn’t ask “Why?” enough times. Solomon, it appears, did, and he concluded that if we go back far enough with our “Why’s?” we will find that the beginning is God.

We can say quite confidently that God has given us an inquisitive nature that leads us to ask, “What?” and “How?” We like to acquire knowledge. But we need to take that another step and ask, “Why?” trusting that when we do, we will also discover wisdom, and in discovering wisdom, we will be confronted with God.

The unexamined life, then, might not be worth living, but it can also be said that the unexamined life will be devoid of the understanding that there is a God who has made us and who sustains us. When we ask enough questions, we will arrive at the certainty that God exists. We are often told that creation is a book which reveals to us some of the attributes of God. It should not surprise us, then, that if we keep asking questions, we will eventually come to see God. God seems to have built that very thing into creation.

Socrates was right: the unexamined life is not worth living. It got him into trouble with the city, and he lost his life because he kept asking questions. It is true that if we ask “Why?” enough times, we may threaten the beliefs and practices of others, and they may find that threatening. It is also true, we can be sure, that if we continue to ask, “Why?” we will eventually end up arriving at the one answer, “Because God. . .” We should not be surprised because, as Scripture teaches, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” Asking us why gets us back to the beginning.

Some time ago I had a conversation with someone who is nearing retirement. He runs a business and he is good at what he does, but he pondered this: “How would my life have been different had I continued beyond high school and became an engineer or an architect?” He has the intellect for further studies, and I suspect he would have done well. It is impossible, of course, to know how different life would have been if we had made different choices.

If we become too focused on the question of “What if?”, we can be filled with regret, especially if our lives aren’t quite what they think they could have been. Someone who has a difficult marriage might well believe that her life would have been so much better had she not broken off that relationship with her first boyfriend. Or someone might question whether the decision to sell the farm and begin working out was the best option. If we focus on what might have been, we might well idealize it and find ourselves living a life of regret.

There are those who would say that God has laid out a path for us, and it is our job to discover what that path should be. This understanding of how God works is called determinism wherein God determines all that should happen beforehand, and we are obligated to discover what he has already determined. Those who hold this view tend to live in a bit of fear, afraid to make the wrong decision, believing that in every choice that we must make there is a right and a wrong. Making the wrong choice moves us out of God’s will and into a world of hurt. Or so they believe.

But is life full of right and wrong choices? A student finishing high school might well have to make a decision between becoming an auto mechanic or a HVAC technician. He might be adept with his hands, and both options might be equally good. Does God have a path marked out for him that if he does not take it, he has made a wrong decision? Does God will that he become a mechanic, and if he doesn’t, does that mean that he is outside of God’s will? Does he automatically remove himself from God’s blessings if he makes the wrong choice? Or what about the young woman who finds herself having to choose between two suitors, both of whom are entirely appropriate and both of whom could become wonderful husbands? Is it possible that she could make the wrong decision and choose the wrong man? Would her life have been so much better if she had chosen differently?

The reality is we will never know. It would be interesting if there were parallel universes, and we could see how things turned out if we had made different choices, but that is not the way it is. We make choices, and we must live with those choices. And often times there is neither a right nor wrong choice, for both are equally good. We may not be able to discern that one option is preferable over the other, and we have to choose.

Robert Frost, in his poem, The Road Not Taken, says that as he travelled, he came to a fork in the road, and he had to choose one of two paths. He knew that he would not be able to come back to the fork and make a different choice, for, as he says we know “how one way leads to another” he doubted he would ever return to this point. In the end, he chose the road that was less travelled and, as he put it, “that has made all the difference.” He doesn’t say if the difference was positive or negative, only that in choosing as he did, his life was different from what it could have been. Neither choice was the wrong choice, but the choice he made changed his entire life.

The truth be told, we will never know if God does have one specific path marked out for us, obligating us to discover that path. We can’t even be sure that we are on the path that he has chosen for us, for we don’t know if we have made all the right decisions. If we believe that God has only one way for us to go, then if we make the wrong decision, we will never be able to return back to his will, not because we are unwilling but because we are incapable. If that were true, life could become a misery rather than a blessing.

Some would say that because God is sovereign, he has marked out a way for us and we are obligated to follow it. They say that is evidence of God’s sovereignty. But that belief might be a misunderstanding of God’s sovereignty. Whether or not God has a preference for what choices I make, I do not know. (I am not talking about making immoral, unethical or ungodly choices, but rather making choices that are equally appropriate.) God may have a preference, I do not know, but this I do know: no matter what choice we make, we can be assured that God remains sovereign in our lives. In other words, as long as we are living faithfully before the Lord, there may not be a wrong or right decision. Regardless of what direction we take, no decision that we make will confound God or thwart his purposes for us and the world. Rather, we can be confident that he is so wonderfully sovereign that he can accomplish his purposes through us regardless of whether we become a mechanic or HVAC technician. Maybe the spouse we end up marrying is not the “perfect” match. And maybe choosing to work out rather than farming might not be the best suited for our gifts. God is not hindered by our decisions, and he will accomplish his goals, and he will do so through us, for that is how he often works in this world. We can be assured that God, who is our loving and faithful Father through Jesus Christ is always big enough to carry us through.

We often come to forks in the road, but we need not agonize over whether we can make a wrong decision and find ourselves travelling away from God. God is on both roads, and when we choose one or the other, we can be sure that he is there with us, and he is there for us. This is what is means to have a God who is sovereign: it means that we can live without worry or fear and without regret, for God is always with us.