
In second grade, my art and science teacher had a poster of Albert Einstein in her classroom that always caught my attention. Einstein was making a face as if someone had goosed him on the head or perhaps had an epiphany over something he had been thinking about. It always fascinated me, and whenever I would pause to look up from whatever a second-grade art or science project was, I would find my gaze going to him.
Einstein is renowned for his proposal and research on the theory of relativity, which explains the flexibility of space-time. Basically, he posits that we do not live in a static universe. However, the “relativity” is associated with more than science; in fact, it has become embedded in our Western framework of individualism.
Everything is relative. What is true for one person may not be true for another. Ironically, while so common, this attitude and posture deeply unsettle us as human beings.
The Idol of Certainty
We crave certainty and security. We want to know how things work, why things work, how people should act, and what is right for society as a whole. We want to be certain about our finances, our friendships, our future and, in the realm of the church, our faith.
Because of social media and modern technology, we are now in the most connected age in human history. Through clips, sound bites, podcasts, blogs, Substack posts, Reddit threads, YouTube videos, the place formerly known as Twitter, and other social media avenues, we can curate and collect diverse voices and opinions while filtering out the ones we don’t like.
We seek to create, control, and ensure our biases. We become experts overnight, all with the goal to be certain about our lives and reality.
It has been observed and argued that this is a natural outcome of the Enlightenment and the influence of thinkers such as Descartes and Nietzsche, but I am more inclined to believe this is simply the nature we share as humanity. At our core, we want to be certain about our lives and directions. We want to feel secure.
We are so desperate to be right and hold the truth, like it is a scarce possession that we find ourselves severing from one another over the slightest nuance and difference. We see this play out in so many areas of life, and of course, we have seen this sharpened to extremes in the realms of politics and religion. It becomes all or nothing.
The Absolute Church
I grew up in a Baptist church, and I have had the privilege of serving as a vocational minister for over thirteen years. If there is one recurring theme within the church, it is the certainty of salvation. From questions of “do you know where you will go when you die?” to recent public speeches about “knowing the power of salvation,” it is hard to miss how much knowing is emphasized in one’s faith.
This emphasis tends to spill over into all facets of congregational and individual life. As of this writing, in just a few weeks, a proposed motion in the Southern Baptist Convention will address the certainty and clarity of what the Bible says about women’s roles in the church. The key argument used is that “the Bible is certain” or that “the Bible is clear” about this issue.
I acknowledge there are passages in scripture that seem to indicate an interpretation of hierarchy and subordination within church structure. However, there are also passages throughout the Bible’s overarching narrative that point to a more egalitarian model, led by the liberating power of the Holy Spirit. Yet, because of our desire for control and certainty, we cling to our interpretation of scripture and disqualify others who do not hold to the same.
We do this in many aspects of our faith, whether in church polity, spiritual practices, or daily ethics. We seek to have the right answers, the correct model, the absolute foundation. Certainty is not a bad thing, and I do believe there are areas of life where we can be certain. However, we have made an idol of certainty and taken it to its extremes.
The Curious Christians
Our drive for certainty and clarity has left a deep wound in society that reverberates from public spaces to online spaces to intrapersonal relationships. When you look at social media, you see a plethora of spiteful comments and outraged arguments because someone has posted, shared, or argued something that the other sees as certainly wrong. But there can be healing, and we can have hope if we want to put in the work of letting go.
When Jesus called his disciples to follow him, he asked them to leave all they knew and were certain about and follow him. He asked people from different backgrounds and even opposing sides, like a tax collector and a zealot, to be part of his witness to the kingdom of heaven. Yes, Jesus makes the absolute claim to be the only way we can know and understand God the Father, but everything else is not a hill to die on.
Perhaps our posture is to be less certain and more curious. Certainty has led us to villainize one another and to dig into extremes. But curiosity, when rooted in the love of Christ, can open the door and invite others to see the good news.
Instead of seeing people as enemies to be conquered, we can see them as fellow pilgrims stumbling on this life. Christ did not call us to follow a principle, method, or policy. He called us to follow him, which means we will not have all the answers, but we can have good faith in the one who called us to keep leading in His love.
