Then Papa called the cubs in for a talking-to . . . “Do you understand?” “Oh yes, Papa. We understand,” they said . . . “Does that make sense to you?” he asked. “Oh yes, Papa,” they said. “It makes a lot of sense.” That’s when the cubs heard the sound of a familiar car door. It was Grizzly Gramps and Gran come to call . . . “Whaja-bring me?” they screamed. “Whaja-bringme? Whaja-bring me?”
The Berenstain Bears Get the Gimmies by Stan and Jan Berenstain

In our virtual dog training class, we would sometimes be watching a video that looked to me like a dog doing a behavior perfectly, when our instructor would say, “Hm. I wonder if there is true understanding?” Apparently it is quite possible for a dog to happen to do a desired behavior, without actually responding to the appropriate cue or being aware of what the behavior involves. For example, when I first attempted to teach Sky “paws up” by luring her up onto a stool, she happened to step up, but her lack of true understanding became clear when the next time she just walked around it. She thought “paws up” meant “come closer,” whether it involved happening to step on the stool in her way or not. 

Now that phrase echoes in my head everywhere: is there true understanding? The other day, I was watching our youngest add two-digit integers using the algorithm of carrying over. She got the correct answers, but when I asked her to explain what was going on, it became obvious she didn’t entirely grasp the concept of regrouping ten ones into one ten, so we stopped and pulled out some math manipulatives instead.

The point is, there is a difference between true understanding and the mere appearance of it, and this applies to our faith as well. In fact, I think cultural Christianity inoculates us in some ways to true understanding. If we’re not careful, we can get just a small enough dose of the truth to render us immune to the real thing. We may check off the box for doing our devotions while missing the true kind of communion and listening to the word that God longs for us to have. We may sing songs in a church service once a week while missing what it means to live a life of worship. We think we are doing fine—we appear to be doing fine—but in fact we have missed the concept altogether.

How do we ferret this out? We look for the functional truths in our lives. Our functional truths are the ones that shape our will, desires, and emotions. So that’s what we look at: 

1. our will (what decisions am I making?)

2. our desires (what do I want?)

3. our emotions (what do I feel?)

If we know that God works for our eternal good, but still feel angry when He doesn’t give us what we want, then that truth is not a functional truth. If we know that God is in control, but we still make decisions to maximize our own control and feel anxious, then that truth is not a functional truth. Functional truths are the ones that have penetrated from our minds to our hearts and wills. Whatever we may say we believe, they are the ones we are living by.

How do we gain true understanding? How do the truths we believe become more functional in our lives? Just like training a dog or teaching math to a child, functional truths take time to learn. They take testing out in different situations. They take perseverance and making mistakes. They take being flexible and thoughtful in delivery. They happen in the context of relationship. They are clarified in stress or suffering. And in the case of the Christian life, they happen through the activity of the Holy Spirit, who, together with our own awareness and willingness, can work these truths down into our lives through His power. In many ways, that is the journey of the Christian life. I am constantly awakening to various truths and how they have or have not been functionally at play in various areas of life. I am constantly asking myself, do I have true understanding?