I've been visiting Hapax Legomena. Can't remember how I found the blog, but I did. I found this post and thought I should post it here, too. Most of us have had these thoughts, I'm guessing. This sounds like me about two years ago, except for the blogging comments. I've offered my encouragement.
The Futility of Theology
There’s a long personal story behind this post, but I’m not going to tell it.
I write about Christianity a lot here. And I often sound very sure and confident, but that’s because I’m a good liar, at least in print. The reality is that I have no idea which way I’m really supposed to be going, and I’m sure that I’m screwing it up royally pretty consistently. All of my sound and fury here on the blog is just the frantic scribblings of someone desperately trying to find out Who is this Jesus and how on earth can I get to him? I don’t even know what’s wrong with me half of the time, but I’m hoping somehow that this man can fix me and make sense of this mess I live in. And so I chase him across commentary, blog, and footnote, thinking that if I trace his steps well enough, I’ll find out where he went to.
And that’s why theology is futile. When I’ve done everything I can and still screwed myself over, I realize that everything I’m doing here is pointless. I’m not going to save myself by studying and reading and arguing until I know the way. The only way I can be saved is if Jesus, this same man that I spend so much of my time discussing and dissecting, gets down off the cross that I’ve put him on and comes and picks me up. I can’t save myself through my belief, through my theology. I can only hope that Jesus comes and saves me.
My answer is the Bible answer: Jesus already did come to earth and save you. It's done. Finished. Now be thankful.