Thought Hunter

Over the last number of chapels the president of the Bible college I teach at has done a series of sermons on thinking biblically. They have been insightful and thought-provoking, and have challenged me to engage my mind around various topics, including thinking biblically about thinking itself. I have deeply appreciated his clear and thoughtful messages. (You can listen to them here.)

His messages have reminded me of the day that I first thought about thinking biblically. That day changed my life.

On that day, I read the words of Paul in 2 Corinthians 10:5: "We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." Those words revolutionised my life.

I don't know if I have a particularly busy mind, or if maybe I'm half a step away from barking mad, but my mind is generally populated by many thoughts -- so many thoughts that when someone asks me what I'm thinking, I mentally freeze, because trying to explain my thoughts out loud would take far too long than most people have patience for. Or maybe I really am half a step away from barking mad, because I have had more than a fair share of folks who say to me, "You really think about stuff like that?" Haha, no, not really. (But ... yes ....) But at the time that I read Paul's words, all those busy and crazy thoughts felt like weapons that battered and assaulted my heart and soul.

I had no idea that I could do anything about it.

I had this idea that a thought thunk (how's that for good grammar?) was a thought that had to be entertained. Entertained doesn't seem the right word because it was anything but entertaining. But I lived by the notion that if a thought had entered my head it must somehow be real, or have power, or it meant that I really believed it. I couldn't help what I thought. Basically, if the thought was in my head, I felt powerless to do anything about it, and it was free to run around in there and wreak havoc on my heart and soul.

Because an awful lot of the thoughts that were in my head were pure junk. Garbage. Trash. Graffiti that coated the inside of my skull. Thoughts about who I was. Who God was. Thoughts about terrible things that could happen to me, to my loved ones. Thoughts about terrible things I could do. Might do. Probably was already doing. I have a vivid imagination, and I was a prisoner to my imagination. I was afraid of what was inside my own head.

And then I read Paul's wonderful, wonderful words in 2 Corinthians 10:5. It was like cool balm on a sunburn.

"Take every thought captive" -- I read those words and I realised that was living my life backwards. My thoughts were taking me captive. But Paul said that I could take my thoughts captive. A thought thunk was not a thought to be taken seriously, but a thought to be captured. Just because a thought was running around in my head did not mean that I had to entertain it for a single second. I was in control, not my imagination.

And then the rest of the verse: Paul talked about demolishing arguments and retentions that set themselves up against God, making my thoughts obedient to Christ. That meant that my thoughts were weaklings, or at most, blustering bullies with little backbone. I could stand up to them. In Christ, I could demolish my thoughts and I could change my thoughts. I could make them obedient to Christ. Sometimes, a thought thunk had to be given the boot.

So that day, I started to go on a thought hunt. I started to think about my thinking. The moment I became aware of a thought running around in my head, I captured it. (Ok, maybe I am barking mad, but I actually imagined the thought as a wild animal and I would imagine myself hunting it down and trapping it.) Then I would examine it. Sometimes the thoughts I had captured had to be made obedient to Christ. That thought about something horrible happening to myself or one of my loved ones? I captured it. I examined it. Could something horrible happen? Sure. But how do I make that thought obedient to Christ? I bring it to him. I pray. Lord, you know me and my loved ones. You hold us in your hands. I'm taking this thought and making it obedient to you. Take care of us. Sometimes the thoughts needed to be given the boot. That sin that just crossed my mind? Uh-uh. Nope. Not happening. This thought is not obedient to Christ. Out it goes. And every once in while, a thought that was running around in my head was obedient to Christ and brought about conviction and repentance and a renewed commitment to Jesus. That niggling sense of guilt for snapping at that friend? That continued prodding that I should get in touch with the person who has been going through a hard time? Those are true and right thoughts that spur me to true and right action.

It took time. It took loads of time. Not days, not months, but years. There was a lot of graffiti. There were years of letting my thoughts run riot. They were not easily caught. And it is an ongoing process. Like I said, I have a busy mind and an overactive imagination. It would be easy to slide back, to think, I've got this now. I'm good. But that thought, too, needs to be taken captive and made obedient to Christ. So it's not a finished project, nor, I'm sure, shall it ever be. I won't be done till I'm dead.

But it has made living inside my head less discordant. There is less cacophony and more harmony. And I am no longer afraid of what is inside my head. Just because I think a thought does not mean I need to think about it. Much of what I think can be immediately discarded. It is junk mail, and I do not need to open it, look at it, or let it pile up. It goes straight to the shredder. I don't fear it anymore. I just do what Paul says, and demolish any argument or pretension that sets itself up against God, and take the thought captive and make it obedient to Christ. I cannot stop a thought from entering my head, but I can certainly help what I think. A thought thunk can be thrown out.

I've become a thought hunter, and Christ has set me free.