I just moved from the same parlor chair in the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island that I sat in last September. I’m in the Audubon Wine Bar now. It’s a classic library-style lounge a few paces from the parlor. I’m not in here because the doors were open. I’m here because I saw an early morning passerby in a security hat on his way to fetch coffee. I asked if he wouldn’t mind granting me similar benefits, and he was kind enough to oblige. I only stepped into the Audubon room to wait. Coffee in hand, I decided to stay. It’s more my style, anyway. And now that I have coffee, I can begin.

No matter the space I’m occupying, this early morning eNews is often only as sensible as it is because of coffee.

Some of you may recall that I was invited to speak at the GOP Policy Conference held at the Grand Hotel last fall. I agreed and took along my family. Well, most of them. Jennifer, Madeline, and Evelyn went along. My daughters fell in love with the place. It’s hard not to. Unfortunately, and candidly, the only way the Thoma family would be able to afford time at the Grand Hotel is if Dad was invited to speak and the accommodations were the reward. That said, as we were leaving the hotel last fall, the girls commented sadly, “We’ll probably never come back here.”

That stung a little. On the other hand, my kids know not to use the word “never” around me. Remember: there were snails on the ark. It took some time, but they made it.

Last December, I sold three antique whisky bottles I’d been keeping for a special occasion. That, combined with the graciousness of congregation members who care, we had everything we needed to enjoy three days and two all-inclusive nights at the Grand Hotel for its opening weekend. I went online and secured the dates. I made copies of the reservation, put them into envelopes under the Christmas tree, and surprised the family on Christmas Day. 

Again, don’t tell me it can’t be done. Instead, let’s talk about how it can. And besides, God has a way of opening doors for me to find a way. 

Speaking of “never,” while looking around the room at all the books, I’m reminded that I’m very near the end of my doctoral studies—something I never thought I’d ever get the chance to do. God willing, I’ll defend my dissertation sometime this summer. It’s been a challenging experience. For one, I didn’t want to drag it out, and so, in my typically self-torturing way, I doubled up on coursework and study at almost every turn. As a result, a five-to-seven-year journey was accomplished in a little more than two.

Apart from content digestion, in a human sense, the one thing I have going for me in such circumstances is that I can write a lot in a very short time. For example, I wrote my book Ten Ways to Kill a Pastor in five days. I’m not looking for praise by saying this. I’m just saying that the time I need for tippity-tapping away at things gives me a unique advantage while schooling. This is especially helpful since my life is already a cosmos of full-time obligations. Before enrolling, just the thought of adding one more twirling solar system of responsibility made me sweat. Still, there’s something I knew about myself. When it comes to the paper writing, give me three hours, and I’ll give you twenty double-spaced pages. Whether or not they’re good pages, as with anything else I’ve ever scribbled, I would leave that determination to the reader.

As I said, it’s been a challenging experience. All of it has been beneficial, with only a few parts here and there that I didn’t necessarily enjoy. In one sense, it reminds me of the saying, “A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can’t learn any other way.” I shared the same quotation in last Sunday’s adult Bible study. I mentioned Mark Twain as its author, but I don’t know that for sure. What I do know is the accuracy of its implied practicality. Doctoral work provides opportunities for learning that no other avenue provides. That said, I’m glad I’ve done it. But I’m also happy it’s concluding.

Jennifer has asked me more than once what’s next, not as in what other self-tortures she should expect to endure with me, but how I intend to use what I’ve done. That remains to be seen. However, I’d say in a broad sense that pre-seminary and seminary curricula could be improved by adding my efforts as stand-alone courses. At a minimum, additional modules could be added to existing systematic and pastoral care courses. In a narrower sense, I certainly intend to use what I’ve learned to my congregation’s benefit and maybe even a few other organizations with which I associate. Either way, we’ll see, and therein lies the tension in Jennifer’s original question. Relative to my daughters’ Mackinac Island concerns, what’s the use of having a few valuable whiskies on the shelf if I’m not going to put the value to work when and where it’s needed? Similarly, what’s the point of acquiring knowledge if the acquirer fails to use it? Knowledge is weaponry, and I intend to open-carry.

Regardless of its broader applications, I’ll use what I know wherever I am. At a bare minimum, it’ll be at the ready in every instance in the ever-unfolding war against truth.

This is an essential thing for Christians to keep in mind.

Christians bear knowledge. We know something of Christ and His immeasurable love for a world steeped in sin. We know how the Devil and the world are active powers laboring to smother truth, most especially the Gospel of salvation through faith in Christ. That said, we have access to the greatest reservoir of wisdom the world has ever known: God’s Word. And so, we are encouraged to dig deeply into it, to digest it (2 Timothy 3:14-17). 

And then we are called to put the wisdom to work (James 1:22).

Now, don’t misunderstand me. This is not an encouragement to see the Bible as a moral handbook for living. Even as the norma normans (the standard for all other standards) and the sole source for faith, life, and practice, the Bible’s epicentral purpose is the divine revelation of God’s work to save mankind from sin, culminating in the person and work of Jesus Christ. This is the molecular substance of the Bible’s wisdom, and its goal is faith. But here’s the thing: the wisdom the Bible brings and instills cannot sit idly by. It engages. It acts. It shines outwardly in ways that others can observe (Matthew 5:13-16; James 2:14-26), thereby allowing others to light their torches from your faith’s flame.

In other words, Solomon was right when he wrote, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight” (Proverbs 9:10). Therefore, be wise. Believe. Therein is knowledge. Knowledge produces insight. Insight isn’t for the knowledge bearer alone. Insight is for others. It is meant to be shared. So, again, put your wisdom to work. Do so in faithfulness to Christ and for the benefit of others.

Be someone who openly carries the knowledge that saves.