In this episode of Shame & Certainty, I return to a moment from college that quietly changed everything — the first splinter that made it impossible to hold my faith the same way again. We talk about how post-Enlightenment Protestant Christianity came to define faith primarily as mental agreement: believing the right doctrines, affirming the right propositions, passing what sometimes feels like a cosmic “Jesus quiz.” In that system, belief becomes cognitive assent — something you think rather than something you live — and compassion, empathy, and transformation can become secondary or even optional. But that isn’t how Jesus used the word belief. In the Gospels, belief is closer to faithfulness, loyalty, devotion — the kind of trust that binds spouses, soldiers, and servants. It’s staking your life on a way of being, not just agreeing with a set of statements. Jesus describes it as treasure hidden in a field — something you stumble upon in ordinary life, something so compelling that joy, not coercion, reorients everything. From there, the episode explores the difference between reading scripture literally and reading it mythically. Not “myth” as fairy tale or falsehood, but myth as a story that breaks us open — one that speaks to the deepest layers of human experience. When scripture is reduced to literal problem-solving or cosmology, it becomes thin and forgettable. But when it’s allowed to function mythically, it connects to shame, longing, self-awareness, love, and the universal human experience of hiding and being seen. We reflect on creation, not as a scientific explanation, but as a story grounding humanity in goodness — a radically different starting point than the familiar narrative of not being enough. Adam is not just one man, but humanity itself, awakening to self-awareness, comparison, nakedness, and shame. The story mirrors our lived experience — in relationships, in intimacy, in the quiet loneliness we sometimes feel even beside the people we love most. The episode also names the discomfort this kind of reading creates. Mystery offers depth, but not control. Institutions want certainty, programs, and guardrails. Mystery resists being managed. And yet, the question remains: Are we becoming more loving, compassionate, merciful, and kind? That may be the truest measure of faith. Ultimately, this episode is about leaving behind a version of belief that no longer bears fruit — and choosing instead to swim in the mystery, even when others would rather pull us back to shore. May you find the questions that don’t close things down, but pull you deeper.