I profess that I tend to be an adolescent minded Christian . It’s true. By and large, I live my Christian life like a middle school kid playing Cowboys and Indians. Cops and Robbers. Good Guys v. Bad Guys.
I study theology. But not so I can attain intimacy with Christ. I study so that I can feel right about myself. It’s a way of loading my gun. I pride myself on knowing the right things about God, on being Orthodox. I want to be Orthodox so that I can hide myself inside an iron clad fortress of Theology, the way a Sheriff might barricade himself inside the jail when the bad guys come to town. I surround my Orthodoxy with a plethora of hired guns – Jonathan Edwards, John Calvin, Spurgeon, Piper, and Keller. I recruit all the deputies I can, just in case a fight breaks out. I pin the tin star of my pastoral position right above my heart as proof of my Legitimacy. The star sparkles and shines and says “Sheriff” in bold letters and it gleams bright in the high noon sun.