“If only he understood, he would see how beautiful it is,” my dad said about the man who had just verbally, and publicly, ripped him to shreds.
While I was in high school, my dad ran a mid-week course for the young adults at church called B.B.B., a silly but effective acronym that stood for “Basic Bible Beliefs.” We covered huge topics like Jesus’ Divinity, the Reliability of Scripture, and Spiritual Gifts. Under his tutelage, I got a head start wrestling with the concept of the Trinity by age 15. I still have a lot to learn, but I feel very privileged.
On this particular evening, we dove into a complex theological topic with a variety of different perspectives. Without getting into the weeds, my father presented a straightforward explanation of the concept, stated his own opinion, and invited us to come to our own conclusions. I don’t remember the details of his presentation, but I do remember that a simple misunderstanding led to an older gentleman in the church vehemently berating him in front of a group of high schoolers. Boy, was I angry. Somehow, though, my dad remained cool and calm. How bizarre.
During the ride home, I asked Dad to explain why that guy got so worked up, and he did. He clarified the communication breakdown and was able to trace the angry man’s line of thinking to the idea that set him off. But remarkably, my father didn’t stop at the intellectual disagreement; he looked deeper. He explained that the man’s hostility, the rage and rampage, was just a deep, simmering insecurity that had finally erupted. That guy blew up when faced with a different perspective, but my dad expressed compassion for him. “If only he understood...”
I remember the strobe of yellow street lights passing overhead while I tried to comprehend this. True wisdom is more than having good answers, important as they are. But wisdom always looks deeper. My father explained, “There’s always more going on beneath the surface. Sometimes people get angry when their ideas are challenged, but Jesus never got stuck in a pointless argument; he looked for the deeper things.” That night I learned, and saw, how true wisdom leads to deeper love.
Though he was hurt and frustrated, my dad couldn’t hide his Christlikeness. Impressively, he’d fused wisdom with compassion so that knowing and loving were inseparable, even toward the quarrelsome guy who just ripped him to shreds. And it was beautiful.
“And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing” (1 Corinthians 13:2).