In the timeless wisdom of that great culinary maven Julia Childs, “With enough butter, anything is good.” This magical ingredient emerges from thin milk as a virtuous solid full of flavor and substance. Flaked cold into a pie crust or melting over fresh bread, butter has earned its place in the pantheon of staple ingredients in nearly all cultures around the world.

Butter doesn’t magically form itself, however. In fact, without a great deal of effort, the buttery potential of milk will never be realized. Only determined churning can result in this choice delicacy. Allow me to spread this idea from the kitchen to the study.

I inherited a book from my great-grandfather this year entitled, somewhat provocatively, The Church’s Debt to Heretics. It’s an unassuming volume, cheaply bound about 100 years ago, in a faded yellow cover and rough cut pages of uneven size. It is a fascinating read, despite its humble appearance, and lays out the intrigue and passion behind many of the church’s most significant investigations of biblical truth.

If necessity is the mother of invention, heresy is the mother of precision. Truth is rarely studied, purified, tested, distilled as it is in the context of swirling errors. The rod of rebellion churns the placid comfort of orthodoxy in upsetting and even violent ways. But invariably in the end it is that very turbulence that causes the cream to rise and the butter to form.

I read the Chalcedonian Definition during our service last Sunday, and to it could be added many more statements previous (e.g. the Nicene Creed), or subsequent (e.g. the Chicago Statement on Inerrancy) that demonstrate the level of biblical focus ardent opposition occasions. This is a phenomenon that does not only affect academics either! Going all the way back to the fourth century, we see that questions of doctrine were matters of popular discussion. In The Church’s Debt to Heretics, a funny quote is given dating from the 4^th century. Gregory of Nyssa, one of the fathers of the early church, commented on the debates around town concerning the nature of Christ:

“Every corner and nook of the city is full of men who discuss incomprehensible subjects; the streets, the markets; the people who sell old clothes; those who sit at the tables of money-changers; those who deal in provisions. Ask a man how many oboli [unity of currency] a thing comes to, he gives you a specimen of dogmatizing on generated or unregenerated being. Inquire the price of bread, you are answered, ‘The Father is greater than the Son, and the Son is subordinate to the Father.’ Ask if your bath is ready, and you are answered, ‘The Son of God was created out of nothing!’”(p. 83-84).

A double encouragement suggests itself in this reflection. First, we should not be dismayed at the daily attacks on truth the Church endures. Historically, this does not threaten the life of God’s people but is in fact an opportunity for even greater understanding of God’s revelation. Second, don’t let the egg-heads have all the fun. God is too interesting and the Gospel is too majestic and the urgencies of our generation are too pressing to abide theological minimalism in any saint. Read, meditate, delight, and refine. Then share with another before repeating the process. Do you need a jump-start to get going? You could do a lot worse than signing up for a NICS class, but you cannot do any better than studying, really studying, the Word of God – in the flesh and on the page. What joy is to be found as wishing becomes knowing, questions become answers, the abstract becomes tangible, and our faith solidifies and becomes that much better, like butter.

Embrace the churn, and remember, with enough theology, everything points to Good.