My husband and I planned this weekend away four months ago. We’d travel six hours to Nashville, stay at an immaculate Airbnb, and see a heartwarming theater production. And that’s exactly what happened. Except my life was also radically changed. In an instant, it was like I was seeing with new eyes. My heart grew twice its size. Something within me was different.
In Hebrews 5-6, we learn that Christians need more than spiritual milk to grow and mature.
“We have much to say about this, but it is hard to make it clear to you because you no longer try to understand. In fact, though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God’s word all over again. You need milk, not solid food! Anyone who lives on milk, being still an infant, is not acquainted with the teaching about righteousness. But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil." Hebrews 5:11-14 (NIV)
Having spiritual milk is a good start, but it should never be the final destination of our faith. Obtaining solid food isn't just an analogy of growing and maturing in our faith; it's a challenge we should all pursue.
Hebrews 6:1-3 describes learning more this way: "Therefore let us move beyond the elementary teachings about Christ and be taken forward to maturity, not laying again the foundation of repentance from acts that lead to death, and of faith in God, instruction about cleansing rites, the laying on of hands, the resurrection of the dead, and eternal judgment. And God permitting, we will do so" (NIV).
Sadly, the church I grew up in didn’t always get this right. And neither did I. I don’t blame them, and no church is perfect. I realize now that I must be willing to ask myself one life-changing question: Is my faith too simplistic? Too basic? Too immature, naïve, rudimentary, elementary, or superficial? Is it unexamined or underdeveloped? And for many of us (myself included), could the answer be yes? An answer that sends us back to the drawing board of our faith. Sends us back to our knees?
I wasn’t taught to ask questions about my faith. And though people would ask me if I only believed because my family did, I knew I believed in Jesus for myself. This much I know is true. I’ve never questioned if Jesus is the Son of God. I’ve never questioned His identity or His sacrifice given to me. I’ve never even questioned my need for Him. I know I’m a sinner and only He can save me. But somewhere along the lines of the basics, I internalized that you believe because you do. No in-depth study needed. No questions asked.
Over the years, I’ve experienced much trauma. This, at times, has caused me to hole up, hold back tears, and avoid processing my emotions. It’s taken years of counseling to try and undo this response. I knew it affected me physically and mentally, but what about my soul?
The night Ben and I saw The Thorn in Nashville, I was tired from the one-hour time difference (yes, I’m a wimp and go to bed at 10 pm like an old lady). But the longer I watched the production and saw the life and death of Jesus come to life, the more I felt my heart twist and turn inside.
Tears fell down my cheeks as I moved my head from side to side. I saw Jesus mocked. I saw Jesus being spat on. I saw him flogged and beaten with iron and pieces of shattered glass, like in the Passion of the Christ—a movie I haven’t dared to watch because I can’t stand the overwhelming emotion. But you know what? Maybe that’s the problem. I’ve been too afraid to feel. To let it out. To witness what was actually done for me. To see the price my sins truly deserved. And to think, even these depictions are poor reflections of what Jesus accurately experienced on the cross.
The play got me thinking. Asking questions—lots of them. No longer afraid to feel, or research, or know. And I think that’s good. It’s something that leads to a mature, deeper faith.
It’s a bit embarrassing to admit that I have a college degree in Biblical Studies, went to a Christian college, and yet I’ve barely skimmed the surface of my faith. I think I was so concerned with maintaining a 4.0 GPA that I forgot to internalize half the knowledge I learned. I forgot to let it sink deep and penetrate my heart.
Yes, the gospel is simplistic in the fact that an innocent man died for my sins so I could be set free. Romans 10:9-10 explains this free and undeserved gift of mercy and grace this way: "If you declare with your mouth, 'Jesus is Lord,' and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved" (NIV). But the gospel is also vastly complex. And as much as we may learn to ask questions, there are some things only God will know (Deuteronomy 29:29).
I don't want my faith, my beliefs as a Christian, or my relationship with Jesus to be shallow. I want to know and experience the heights and depths of His love. His presence. His character. His heartwarming embrace when I'm questioning, and His hand of comfort in my sorrow and tears. I don't want to settle for a simplistic faith on this side of heaven. I want to feel His power at work within me. I want to be transformed by a scandalous grace that could only be completed by the One I call my Savior and Lord. I want to experience the fullness of what it means to live in light of Jesus' birth, death, and resurrection every single day.
Friends, I must ask you this same question today: Is your faith too simplistic? Or maybe a better question is: Are you willing to move beyond it?
If we know the truth of the gospel, we know that it has the power to set us free. But we must be willing to embrace it to its full extent. Faith begins with a simple yet profound truth—John 3:16 is the focal point of this love. God sent His only Son to die for our sins so that we might have a relationship with Him. Jesus loves us and saves us. But the story doesn't end there.
Faith isn't just having confidence in what we hope for and cannot see (Hebrews 11:1); it grows, wrestles, questions, and is alive. True biblical faith isn't stagnant or surface-level but ever explores the mystery and majesty of who God is. It may mess up, cause doubt, face confusion, or raise questions, but it's real.
I'm no longer afraid to ask God hard questions or feel deeply. He invites me to ask, sit, ponder, and experience Him. I'm no longer content to drink milk from a cup when He's inviting me to partake in a feast of solid food.
By His grace, I will keep growing, learning, and seeking Him. I will ask until it's given, seek until I find, and knock until the door is opened. Until the day I see Him face to face, and then, my faith becomes sight.
Agape, Amber
Photo Credit: ©Getty Images/Deagreez