It’s good to have experts. Those tried and true stalwarts of a field. Those who established methods and products and even entire industries that have become the standards we trust and rely on. We need those kinds of “mothers and fathers” to look up to, to look back on, to emulate and draw inspiration from.

But we also need the innovators. Those people in a field who are looking not only to the past, but also to the horizon. Those who take what we have already collectively learned and practice and re-imagine them. We need those people who ask questions that are relevant to our times which the former generations of experts could not have imagined, those who keep things fresh and on par with new challenges in the world.

I don’t mean to say that experts and innovators are in competition. Rather, there is an expert-innovator loop that keeps things moving forward. At one time those who eventually became experts were innovators themselves. And any innovator worth their salt humbly and gratefully acknowledges the experts whose foundation they build upon.

“How can you believe since you accept glory from one another but do not seek the glory that comes from the only God?”

-Jesus (John 5:44)

The implied answer is: You can’t. Your belief—in the testimony of Jesus at least—is suspect. But you do believe in something, or in someone. Who you believe in is shown by who you seek and accept glory from. Of course, “glory” is a rather religious word. It’s all too easy to over-spiritualize our way out of this one. It’s harder to evade when we try on some under-spiritualized words:

How can you believe since you accept importance from one another but do not seek the honor that comes from the only God?

How can you believe since you accept celebrity from one another but do not seek the standing that comes from the only God?

How can you believe since you accept celebration from one another but do not seek the credit that comes from the only God?

How can you believe since you accept fame from one another but do not seek the dignity that comes from the only God?

How can you believe since you accept attention from one another but do not seek the esteem that comes from the only God?

How can you believe since you accept prestige from one another but do not seek the reputation that comes from the only God?

How can you believe since you accept prominence from one another but do not seek the greatness that comes from the only God?

You could be spiritual but not religious. And that could very well be a joyful and meaningful way of being in the world.

You could also be religious but not spiritual. And that could very well give your life a sense of belonging and purpose.

There is also, of course, a third option: You could be spiritual and religious, eschewing that false dichotomy forced upon us by postmodernism. And that could be the most fulfilling option.

Not by itself, anyways. Intellectual engagement with spiritual things is important, for sure, but it’s probably overemphasized in Western Christianity. Study alone is insufficient for cultivating a rich spiritual life, because the mind is only part of a human being. Jesus, when asked what might be the most important commandment, replied,

“Love the Lord Your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.”

-Mark 12:30

God wants to be loved, but not just in any measure. He longs to be loved by whole human beings.

You can write up a bio. Your self-branding can be slick. Other people can sing your praises. Your reputation can be on point.

But the truest evidence of your calling—of who you are and why you are here—is your contribution to the world.

That cannot be known in advance.

People just move on. They transition into different life stages. Needs change. Preferences evolve. Relationships grow closer and more distant. Social pressures cause friction. Jobs require relocation. Dreams lead people elsewhere. At some point you will have faithfully given all that someone needed you to give, and what they need now what someone else has to give.

And somehow, in the middle of all of that, God’s sovereignty is mysteriously at work.

Literally translated means, “He doesn’t need a grandma.” Why? Because he sings his own praises loudly enough. He already lets everyone know how talented he is, how smart he is, how good-looking he is, how successful he is, how everything he is.

This is the Spanish idiom that correlates to, “He toots his own horn.” That pompous braggart. He doesn’t even realize how quickly everyone sees through his charade.

Except that they’re not. My opinions are shaped by countless other influences: By my family. By my experiences. By the friends I hung out with in different life stages. By the books I’ve read. By the podcasts I’ve listened to. By the TV shows I’ve watched.

This is not by choice. It’s just the way it is for all of us. None of our opinions are purely our own, no matter how strongly we believe that we are independent thinkers. Our opinions are the products of other people’s influence.

Classical, orthodox Christianity says that life ultimately wins. Because life generates more life. Because existence trumps non-existence. Because the power of God is creative, not destructive.

Just as God’s voice spoke creation into existence at the beginning, so will he speak re-creation into being at the end.

Here’s an over-simplified timeline: First there is life. Then there is death. Then there is more life. Or, as N.T. Wright puts it, “life after ‘life after death.'”

Resurrection is everyone’s ultimate destiny. The great Christian hope is that just as we were each welcomed into the light of this world from our mother’s womb, so will we be welcomed into the light of the next world from the darkness of death.

“Do not be amazed at this,” Jesus said to his disciples. Because he knows how jaw-droppingly unbelievable real hope can be.

In crossing over from death to life. Which is why silence is a fundamental spiritual practice. In the non-stop noise that surrounds us, our souls lose touch with the Voice of Life. With the fire hose of input constantly wide open, it’s no wonder that we can feel like we’re drowning.

The great danger in the Information Age is the loss of inner peace. So perhaps the most countercultural act of resistance is to cultivate silence.