"Come now, let us reason together,"says the Lord. (Isaiah 1:18 NIV).
"Daddy, why is the sky blue? What is glass made of? Why do the clouds move? How much longer before we get there?"
I remember asking these questions of my father as we traveled along the highway in his big Buick. My seven year old mind was filled with questions. It burned with an insatiable curiosity. Traveling along at 60 MPH, my mind raced as I scanned the images passing by. My father never disappointed with his answers.
"Sunlight bouncing off of air molecules, sand, wind, and five minutes less than when you asked before." He answered patiently, his eyes making contact with mine via the rearview mirror.
Of course, his answers only provoked more questions and sometimes doubts. After all, my dad sometimes liked to joke with me. So, I had to make sure.
"Sand? Come on Daddy. Glass is made of sand? Are you trying to trick me?"
"No, son. It's made from lots of sand that's been heated at great temperature and poured into a mold."
"OK, Daddy." I said, as I thought of a dozen more questions to ask.
A couple of years later I was chosen to represent my school on a TV game show for third graders called "Kiddie Kollege." Our school team was in a close match when we were given an extra hard question during the "huddle round," a round that we could get advice from our team members. The question was asked of a little blond on our team named Becky. The question: "What is glass made of?"
As we huddled together I whispered to my teammates "Sand, glass is made of sand."
The looks that my fellow third graders gave me were incredulous. "Are you kidding?" Their faces shouted.
Becky was so perturbed that she looked at me and asked aloud "Glass???"
To which the game show host immediately shouted, "You're right! Sand is the main material used in glass making. That's for 50 points and you win the game!"
We won that game and appeared on TV for three straight weeks. That night when I got home from the WCYB studio, I called my Dad on the phone. He wasn't able to attend in person because he was in the hospital.
"Hey Daddy, did you see me on TV?" I asked.
"I sure did, Son!" He answered with pride in his voice.
"Did you hear the question about glass?" I wondered.
"Absolutely, and I'm glad you were there to help that little girl get it right. Son, I'm so proud of you." He said.
"Thanks Daddy. But if it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have even known the answer." I said.
It was only a few weeks later that my dad went to be with the Lord. He died of cancer at the age of 39. I was eight.
I still miss my Dad sometimes. He was never afraid of my questions. He seemed to genuinely enjoy talking to me. Even though he was a grown up and much wiser, he always made me feel smart. He never made me feel as though my thoughts or questions were beneath him. That was such a gift.
I think God is like that. He isn't afraid of our questions. He genuinely enjoys talking with us. He doesn't make us feel unworthy of His fellowship. He is patient and wise. He really desires to have a meeting of the minds with us.
I don't believe that following Christ is intellectual suicide. Quite the contrary, I think God lifts our minds up and increases our wisdom. I understand Kierkegaard's idea that we can't discover God through reason, that we must take a "leap of faith." But I prefer C. S. Lewis' view that Christianity is more than a " blind leap of faith," that it is a reasonable response to the revelation of God through His Word and supremely through His Son, Jesus Christ.
Jesus said that the greatest commandment is to love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. He says that we are to love God with our minds.
I'm glad that my father taught me that it was fun to think and ask questions. I loved talking to my Dad.
I'm even more pleased that my Heavenly Father invites me to come reason with Him. He invites me to think aloud with Him and to express my love for Him with my thoughts.
The more I think aloud with Him, the more I have His mind on things.
"For... we have the mind of Christ." (1 Corinthians 2:16 NIV) .
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