The Sacred Stretch

Faith is often seen as an anchor—steady, unchanging, grounding us in life’s storms. But faith is also a living, breathing journey, one that deepens when we allow ourselves to be stretched beyond familiar shores. Just as our brains thrive on new challenges, our souls flourish when we engage with questions that push us beyond easy answers. Whether you’re a progressive Christian wrestling with ancient texts in fresh ways, a traditional believer navigating shifting cultural tides, or someone simply seeking a more expansive understanding of God, theological stretching isn’t a threat—it’s an invitation to grow. Science, Scripture, and the call to justice all affirm this truth: a faith that remains open is a faith that remains alive.

Neuroscience tells us that learning new ideas—especially as we age—rewires our brains for resilience. Studies on neuroplasticity reveal that engaging with complex concepts, like theology, strengthens cognitive function and emotional well-being. In fact, intellectual curiosity has been linked to longer, healthier lives:

• Challenging beliefs creates new neural pathways, delaying cognitive decline (Park & Bischof, 2013).

• Engaging with complex ideas (like theology) boosts memory and emotional regulation (Harvard Medical School, 2020).

• People who remain intellectually curious live longer, healthier lives (Psychology and Aging, 2019).

This isn’t just about mental fitness; it’s a sacred echo of what Scripture has always taught. The Bible is filled with stories of people whose faith grew through struggle—Jacob wrestling with God, the Ethiopian eunuch seeking understanding, Jesus himself reinterpreting tradition in ways that unsettled the religious establishment. Faith isn’t meant to be static. Like the Israelites gathering manna each morning, we’re called to seek fresh nourishment for our spirits, trusting that God’s truth is always unfolding.

Yet stretching isn’t just about personal growth—it’s a moral necessity. History shows us the danger of a faith that refuses to evolve. The same Bible once used to justify slavery and segregation was later reclaimed as a manifesto for liberation. The same Scriptures wielded against interracial marriage are now being reexamined in light of justice for LGBTQ+ people. The arc of God’s story bends toward love, and when we dig in our heels against that movement, we risk confusing tradition with truth. Comfort is not the goal of faith; faithfulness is. And faithfulness requires the courage to ask hard questions, to listen to voices we’ve ignored, and to recognize that the Spirit often speaks through the margins. The moral arc of Scripture bends toward justice (Micah 6:8, Luke 4:18-19). When we resist theological growth, we don’t preserve truth—we preserve our own comfort.

We are called to see that God's Justice isn’t a compromise of faith; it’s the fruit of it.

So how do we embrace this sacred stretch? We start by naming our fears—what scares us about rethinking old assumptions? We study with humility, not just to defend our views but to truly understand. We pray for wisdom, not just confirmation. And we seek out perspectives that challenge us, knowing that truth is rarely found in echo chambers. The journey won’t always be easy, but it will always be worth it. Because a faith that’s never tested is a faith that’s never fully trusted.

In the end, faith isn’t a fortress to hide in—it’s a path to walk, a conversation to join, a mystery to explore. Whether you’re 25 or 85, your mind and spirit are capable of holy expansion. The alternative isn’t faithfulness—it’s stagnation.

So let’s stretch. Let’s question. Let’s allow God to surprise us.

Because a faith that’s never challenged is a faith that’s never truly alive.

"See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?" (Isaiah 43:19)