Not long after I was saved, I attended a Lutheran Bible school. With typical new-believer zeal, I soon became convinced that I should pursue vocational ministry. With typical young-man impudence, I had my own ideas on how that should be done. I knew that, in order to be recognized and accepted, I would have to go to college and seminary (I called it “cemetery”); but that was just a formality, necessary to appease the establishment. All a man really needed, I thought, was his Bible and the Holy Spirit. If a man just knew his Bible inside and out, and was filled with the Holy Spirit, what more could he need?

Seminary was a place where men filled their heads with the philosophies of men. I definitely didn’t want that. Of course, it was alright if I chose some books to read on my own. That was different. What I certainly did not need, however, was Bible commentaries or systematic theologies. I didn’t need men to tell me what the Bible meant! That was the Holy Spirit’s job.

At some point in my journey, I heard of a guy named Charles Spurgeon. Spurgeon never went to college or seminary. I didn’t know anything about Spurgeon, except that he was a famous preacher, admired by many. What did he have that I didn’t have? [Let us now pause for a moment of hearty laughter.]

Well, Spurgeon had many things that I didn’t have, including unique gifting and a massive intellect. More importantly, he had the humility to know that he needed more than his Bible and the Holy Spirit. At a time when books were not the cheap commodity they are today, Spurgeon’s personal library contained some 12,000 books, including commentaries. He even wrote a book on commentaries! Spurgeon possessed no degrees, but he was far from uneducated. He clearly saw the need to learn from other men. As he put it,

I am amazed that those who think so much of what the Holy Spirit can teach them often think so little of what the Holy Spirit has taught others.*

The Lord was gracious to lead me away from that kind of thinking. One of the ways he did that was to put me in contact with other men who had the same attitude as I, and let me see the depth of their ministries. There was no depth. Their theology was immature and shallow. They tended to ride hobby-horses, and be easily taken in by the odd doctrines of other uneducated men. They often fashioned their own strange beliefs from small portions of Scripture isolated from the whole of God’s Word. They were completely ignorant of basic hermeneutics.

In contrast to those men, the teachers that I admired and hoped to emulate were well educated formally or at least, like Spurgeon, were voracious readers and diligent students.

I was not pleased to find myself in the first group. I saw the fruit of both philosophies, and knew which kind I wanted to produce.

This is really a matter of humility, isn’t it? “Just me and God” says “No man is my superior. I am equal to all those who have gone before me.” In fact, it says more than that. It says that I am their superior. They learned from others, but I can do it on my own. What audacity. How foolish. We all need teachers; it is few of us who will ever become their equals, and fewer still who will exceed their knowledge, skill, and wisdom.

The Lord never did lead me into any vocational ministry, and graciously prevented me from getting there my own way. Nevertheless, I am grateful for this lesson. I am so glad that I learned to learn from others.