Reflection Paper

Reflections

This course has provoked me to confront my hermeneutic of subjectivity and unmasked my hubristic tendencies in approaching God. The class did not fundamentally change my philosophy of ministry or theology; however, the material expressed in this class has transmogrified my thoughts and assumptions about the human desire to encounter the divine. The course’s vociferous polemicizing against Western rationalism triggered my exploration into the head versus heart dichotomy; unexpectedly, I found the peace that surpassed all mortal faculties through the consummation not only of the mind and heart but yielding my strength and soul as well.

I live and minister between cultural traditions with distinctive philosophies and theologies; they are conflicting, opposing, and sometimes perplexingly self-contradictory. Even within the same tradition, I was persuaded to be aware of varying views and perspectives. Each culture carries multiple dimensions within its respective tradition. Gospel contextualizing is an enormous and necessary undertaking in the growing diversified and multicultural Body of Christ. Theologizing from varying contextual paradigms requires humility to be self-critical and the generosity to listen to perspectives I disagree with. This course forced me to scrutinize my heart and dismantle its anesthetized assumptions. From the start, I approached this course from a purely academic supposition. However, the subjective stance of the material, coupled with the perspectivistic structure of students’ experiences, challenged my objective pursuit and exacerbated my divergency. As I struggled against the pervasive subjective individualistic tendencies, I noticed that the same egoistical propensity erupted within. My zeal for orthodoxy has caused me to become profoundly obstinate. If I had participated in the Lord’s company, would I indeed hear Jesus say, “Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of” (Luke 9:55)? Has the weathered ministry calcified my heart into an inconsequential relic of an obscured past? The Lord denounced my unwillingness to see the colossal beam obscuring my vision as I tried vainly to criticize the twig in another man’s ministry (Mat 7:1-5).

So Paul, standing in the midst of the Areopagus, said: “Men of Athens, I perceive that in every way you are very religious. For as I passed along and observed the objects of your worship, I found also an altar with this inscription: ‘To the unknown god.’ What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you.
— Acts 17:22-23 (ESV)

The human desire to meet the divine is a powerful instinct. On Mars’ hill, Paul explained this mortal impulse, saying the Athenians ignorantly desire to worship without knowing the subject of their devotion. My quest to peek into the supernatural was rooted in my upbringing. I grew up agnostic, straddling different faith traditions and learning to move fluidly in ambiguities between Confucianism, Buddhism, Catholicism, and Protestantism. When I arrived in the States, my pantheistic world collapsed into a quasireligious Christianity steeped in the moralistic Vietnamese American spirit. I was unconcerned that my church was antagonistic to hyper-spiritual expressivism until my encounter with God. After a basal shift in my metaphysical paradigm resulting from a confrontation with the Holy God, my essence and predilections were reconstituted.

Everything I once held in sincerity vaporized in a forgotten smoke. I prayed for everyone and shared my testimony, irrespective of time, space, or authority — my zeal led to the withdrawal of our membership at the local church. I quickly learned how to traverse the spiritual world in signs and wonders. I gravitated toward everything supernatural while scorning traditions and institutions. As I listened to students in the class anecdotally articulate their encounters with God, I was transported back to the early days of our house church. The nostalgia overtook me by surprise as I was mesmerized by the idiosyncratic nature of the various subjective divine interpretations. When God breathed life into man, the divine essence imprinted deep within the human soul becomes awakened as humanity turns again to seek his Creator. The knowledge of a transcendent God who loves us and “is touched with the feelings of our infirmities” (Heb 4:15) is painfully uncommon in this age of expediency. Seeing my fellow students yearn to encounter God was both endearing and disquieting. The spiritual dryness in this generation is exacerbated by living vicariously through social media postings; with the rise and eventual triumph of artificial intelligence, curated fantasies become limitless.

His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence, by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire.
— 2 Peter 1:3-4 (ESV)

God has promised to grant us the knowledge of Him and partake in His divine nature. As our hearts yearn to encounter God in incomprehensible ways, the natural finds consolation in the supernatural. However, the inescapable subjectivity of experiences without the ability to discern the spirit of truth from error (1 John 4:6) can lead to spiritual presumptuousness that may lead some into heterodoxy or away from biblical teachings.

Driving a hard wedge between rationalism and emotionalism tends to create superficial schismatic tendencies that exacerbate extremism. Jesus is our Mediator between the Holy God and ungodly sinners, reconciling the world unto Himself (Heb 8:6). The Church is called to bring men to Christ through the same conciliatory ministry, which requires the use of all faculties, including the mind, heart, soul, and strength (2 Cor 5:18; Luke 10:27). The Holy Trinity is infinite and incomprehensible, it is contemptuous for any mortal to approach God presumptuously without the blood of Jesus, whether through reasons or emotions (Rom 11:33). In the Lord’s presence, our wisdom is utter foolishness (1 Cor 3:19). After the presumptuous king died, Isaiah stood in the splendor of God’s majestic presence, he wanted to speak, but he realized his facility for language is defiled:

Then said I, Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips: for mine eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts.
— Isaiah 6:5 (KJV)

In the Western philosophical tradition starting from Pythagoras, epistemological rationalism has formed the basis for how we perceive the ultimate nature of reality. However, the undeniable perception of life’s evanescent nature clashes with the static view of Pythagoras’ “all is number” logic; when these powerful forces collide, the results are polarizing beliefs, either in rationalism or empiricism. I vacillated between these polarities with every assignment. To use my emotions in experiencing God requires rationalizing esotericism — I gave up and ping-ponged down the paradoxical abyss.

But that is not the way you learned Christ.
— Ephesians 4:20 (ESV)

I cannot exegete my way into God’s presence, nor is the Lord impressed with man’s erudition. Deciphering epistemological heuristics, while intellectually provocative, was unhelpful in encountering God. The Apostle’s admonition silenced these clamorous rhetorics for me, “I will pray with the spirit, and I will pray with the understanding also: I will sing with the spirit, and I will sing with the understanding also” (1 Cor 14:15). I am left with two things: I will pray, and I will sing — Soli Deo gloria!