When I started college, I was a disgruntled 18 year-old who was unhappy that I wasn't in the US Army where I belonged. My mother was a college professor who had free tuition benefits for her kids. My dad, a former US Marine, said the only thing being a paratrooper would get me was 3 hots, a cot, and a broken ankle. My parents convinced me to go to college and then I could become an officer. So, there I was as a psychology major because the green berets were also a unit that employed psychological warfare.
My first philosophy class dealt with Plato, Socrates, and Aristotle. Wow! I loved philosophy. I loved history of the ancient world. Growing up in a Christian home, I also loved religious studies classes. I was a Protestant so it was almost culture shock to be taught by nuns and priests getting used to hearing, "the Blessed Mother," and other distinctly Catholic terminology. My father had been Roman Catholic, but we only attended my mother's Methodist then Presbyterian churches.
I developed very close relationships with my professors in English, philosophy, and religious studies. I changed my major to English then stayed from 1986 to 1993 earning degrees in all three disciplines. My mind was hungry and on fire to learn from professors and challenge them back in an exciting academic environment.
According to the Principle of Primacy, the things learned first are retained the most. I remember more about Plato's Apology than I do about Immanuel Kant. I remember more about Jesus from Sunday School than I do from a 400 level class in Jesus and the Early Church.
I enjoyed the wisdom and simplicity of the Greek philosophers. These were the elite of their time. Yet, they were not at a Kantian level. The Greeks were the ones to whom Paul brought Christ. Paul was the Ph.D. of his time. Jesus, on the other hand, spoke to the poorly educated. His own disciples were often confused by his teachings and parables which seem obvious to us today. Yet, God chose these fishermen, tax collectors, and others to teach the message of salvation instead of the most learned temple priests, judges, or rabbis. Their words were easily understood by shepherds, laborers, craftsmen, soldiers, mothers, and others who didn't study the Tanakh in a formal way.
The message of the "Good News" is meant for all -- even the little children, so that all who hear may choose to come to Jesus. Yet, 2000 years of Western civilization, Catholic political reign in Europe, Protestant reformers, pulpits of preachers, ratings of televangelists, and writings of scholars have found the great theological minds and the worst mega-church motivational speakers in disagreement. As the Bible is scoured and dissected to find a more truthful truth, modern intellectualism leaves Christians worried they may not be saved enough. Bible study is important, but so is the simplicity of salvation. How do we overcome our obfuscation of a message even a child can understand as we seek to grow in knowledge? Do we spend too much time looking for deeper meaning rather than reading simple stories in simple context? Christianity began as an oral tradition. Early Christians were unburdened by Bible study and rejoiced in a simple faith often learned by listening only once to Peter. A shepherd could return the fields or a soldier to his cohort forever changed and at peace in his heart.