A few people have asked me what I’m trying to get at with the whole notion of theological puberty.  It is okay for people to teach theology if they aren’t well studied?  How much study is enough?  etc., etc.  This isn’t really what I was driving at, but I guess I did imply these things.

I think for a long time I have, when in theological debate, used my own knowledge derived from formal study to beat people up instead of help them in the faith.  I appreciate it when my son starts explaining to me about how we ought to build a car that can go super fast.  I enjoy listening to his ideas about what it might look like and how it should be designed.  That doesn’t mean that I take him seriously, though.  Why should I expect to be taken seriously (from an academic standpoint) by those who have studied deep, academic theology far longer, harder, and deeper than I have, especially since I’m just beginning my education?
My own pursuit of academic theology has often led me to think more highly of myself than I ought, largely because I have been comparing myself with those around me and seeing myself as well educated.  Having taken a step back, it seems wise to compare myself against the all-knowing God, and thus see myself as quite small and, to be frank, quite foolish, uneducated, and stupid.  The theology that He has gifted me with even such a limited scope of understanding should not be used to win debates, but for the encouragement of those who hold to the Faith, and, in some cases, to defend the Faith once delivered (to refute heretics).  My own theological puberty has been rather tumultuous.  It has taken me awhile to learn that those who don’t know the truth as well as others do not, therefore, deserve to be battered by the truth.  To be sure, I don’t regret many of the times that I’ve stood against false teachings such as universalism, non-Lordship theology, open theism, etc.  But, I do regret the way that I’ve done so - acting like an expert when, in reality, I was an equal, or perhaps only slightly better educated that those I was debating with.  Furthermore, even when I have been in positions where I was far better educated than my detractors, I have not always done a good job exhorting in such a way as to bring repentance as much as I’ve used the truth to win arguments and make myself (in my own eyes, at least) look smarter and better educated than everyone else around me.

Part of what has happened in me is realizing that the very highest levels of academic theology really matter.  I can no longer reject such scholarship as a waste of time and not to be of any interest to the Church, much less “really mature Christians who are on fire and so busy trying to reach the world for Christ that we don’t have time to obey that part of the greatest commandment which says that we should love the Lord our God will ALL our minds.”  I have rejected the postmodern, falsely pietistic, unChristian, and even demonic and satanic notion that we don’t need theology, we just need Jesus.  (a brief aside: which Jesus?  oh, wait…to answer that question would be theology, and we don’t need that.  So, I guess the jesus of the Mormons or the Jehovah’s Witnesses is just as good as the orthodox Christ).  To say that we don’t need theology is a theology - its just a bad one.  So, I’m no longer intimidated by those who are far more well-read than I am, or better educated.  Instead of my Neitzschean messaih complex kicking in to discredit the others in order to maintain my own superiority, I’ve learned that the hand can never say to the foot, “I don’t need you…”

So, part of theological puberty is recognizing that you’re in it, and that there are people who are ahead, and people who are behind, and how to relate to each of those groups.

Now that I’ve thoroughly bashed myself, a few quick points:

There is nothing more annoying that listening to some adolescent punk with a know-it-all attitude.  When considering theology, this doesn’t change.  Just because I may have read a book, an article, or even a monograph or Ph.D dissertation on a subject does not make one an expert.  It’s okay to be small and listen to those who have been privileged to learn from the teachers that God has given to the church.  If you consider the internet, John MacArthur, or your pastor to be a legitimate authority on any theological subject, please don’t expect others to take you seriously.  You end up sounding like my 3 year old son talking about building super-fast cars.  If the academy doesn’t take something seriously, there is a reason for it.

Part of what makes theology done in simple faith (read before education and theological puberty) beautiful is that it doesn’t parade itself as learned, but acknowledges the limitedness of itself without decrying those more learned.  If this is you, celebrate innocence by learning and appreciating those who are better educated than you are.  Don’t reject them in order to make sure that you are seen as important, or for fear that you may lose influence, etc.

Lastly, not many of us should aspire to be teachers, for we know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness (James 3:1).  I truly fear the judgment seat for many of the things that I have taught.  God, who is rich in mercy, will forgive us all, who will repent and seek such forgiveness.  For me, much of that repentance has involved a change of attitude over the things I’ve taught, how I view myself (my “position,” if you will, especially in relation to those around me), and how I relate to those both more learned and less learned than I perceive myself to be.