Everyday Theologian: Finding the Science of God in Ordinary Life

When you hear the word “theology,” you might think of dusty books, old historians with thick glasses halfway down their nose, or debates that feel too big to touch. But theology simply means:

“the study of God”

“the science of God”

Somehow that simple definition became intimidating—a fancy word reserved for pastors or academics. But theology isn’t just for seminary students or scholars with Latin dictionaries. The truth is: real theology isn’t about knowing about God. Real theology is about knowing Him.

Sometimes it looks like a quiet moment with a cup of coffee.

Or whispering a prayer before you clock into work.

Or catching yourself thanking God mid-drive because the sunset is just so dang beautiful tonight.

In those moments, you aren’t preaching, leading a study, or breaking down Greek verbs. But without even realizing it, you were practicing theology. Every time you pray, seek, wonder, wrestle, question, trust, or surrender, you are doing theology. It’s not something you master. It’s something you enter.

A relationship. A revelation. A lifelong journey of discovering more.

It’s for believers who carry God into their everyday world, because every one of us is living out what we believe about Him, every single day. Jesus Himself describes eternal life this way:

“Now this is eternal life: that they know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom You have sent.” — John 17:3 (emphasis mine)

Knowing God—deeply, personally, consistently—is what theology is all about. Not collecting facts but cultivating intimacy.

We are all theologians. The question is: What kind are you becoming?

If theology is “the science of God,” then life is the laboratory. Not the sanctuary. Not the theological textbook. Life. Your life. It’s the place where what you say meets what you actually live. It can be way too easy of a trap to reserve your faith for Sunday mornings. But the real testing ground of what we believe about God happens in the ordinary, unfiltered, unpolished spaces of everyday life.

How do you handle the guy who cuts you off in traffic on Monday?

Or the coworker that comes to gossip on Wednesday?

What do you decide to fill your soul with on Friday night?

What do you reach for when you’re feeling stressed?

Who do you run to when you’re lonely?

What do you prioritize when you’re busy?

It happens in conflict, in quiet moments, and in conversations no one else hears. It happens when you’re tired and tempted. It happens when you’re disappointed and when you’re delighted. It happens in every choice, every reaction, every “small” decision that no one but God sees. Your ordinary life is preaching a daily sermon about what you believe about Him.

Do you know what that says to me? If you’re a scientist and your life is the lab, your heart is the microscope through which you see God.

If the lens is dirty or cracked, the image will look distorted. If your heart is cluttered or hardened, God will feel a lot farther away than He is. Every twist and turn in the messy, beautiful movement of life is a chance to adjust your lens—to examine what’s going on beneath the surface and to let God show you more of who He is.

So what does the everyday theologian look like?

A mother kneeling down beside her child, explaining grace in the simplest way she knows.

An employee who chooses integrity when no one else will ever know the difference.

A sister who forgives even though the hurt is deep.

A teenager resisting peer pressure because they believe God’s way is best.

A believer who lends a friend some of their faith when they run out of words to say.

The most powerful theological statement you’ll ever make isn’t something you write in a journal, but something you live in your character. Our theology isn’t proven by how many verses we can quote, but by how deeply we live out the ones we know.

Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly. — Colossians 3:16

When His Word dwells richly in you, it flows naturally out of you.

Here’s the part that should bring a lot of relief:

YOU DON’T HAVE TO UNDERSTAND EVERYTHING ABOUT GOD TO BE A THEOLOGIAN. NO ONE DOES. (If you think you do, go on ahead and polish your halo, angel.)

The goal isn’t perfect understanding. It’s faithful curiosity. God’s Kingdom is built by seekers, not experts. Look at Jesus’s invitation:

“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you.” — Matthew 7:7

Sometimes the deepest theology is found in the asking. Sometimes it’s in the knocking. And sometimes it’s in the silence while you wait for the door to open. But real theology is born out of wonder, not certainty.

The world doesn’t need more professional theologians! We need more everyday ones: people whose theology shows up in kindness, forgiveness, humility, truth, and compassion. We need more people who have a soul-deep hunger for God, like Paul wrote in Philippians, “I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of His resurrection” (3:10).

The “science of God” is a lifelong experiment in love. Our lab work is learning His character, observing His hand at work, testing His promises and finding them true, and marveling at His faithfulness. So throw on your lab coat, strap on your goggles, and say this prayer with me:

God, make me an everyday theologian—not one who knows everything about You, but one who seeks You in everything I do.

This week, slow down long enough to notice your own theology. Where is it showing up?

In your patience?

In your anxiety?

In your generosity?

In your conversations?

Ask yourself: What does what I believe about God look like today?

Theology isn’t a subject to master, but a mystery to enter. It’s less like solving an equation and more like stepping into a story, where you discover that God has woven you into every chapter He writes. You were never meant to stand outside of God, studying Him from a safe distance like a specimen under glass. You were meant to walk with Him, learn from Him, ask questions, notice His patterns, receive His corrections, celebrate His goodness, and let Him reshape the way you move through the world. You were meant to be the kind of person that grabs onto the presence of God with both hands.

You don’t need a fancy-pants degree to do that. You just need a willing heart.

Can you hear His call?

Come and know Me. Come and walk with Me. Come and learn My ways.

Step into your true identity. Not as someone trying to “keep up” spiritually or have the right Christian vocabulary, but as someone with a learner’s heart.

Own it. Embrace it. Your faith is the ongoing experiment of grace. And as you keep seeking Him, you will find Him over and over again. Because He loves to reveal Himself to everyday theologians just like you.

Father, thank You that knowing You isn’t limited to scholars or pastors—it’s open to anyone with a heart that seeks You. Clean the lens of my heart so I can see You clearly. Teach me to study You not just with my mind, but with my moments. Help me live out what I believe, see You in the ordinary, and trust You in the unknown. Make me an everyday theologian—not one who knows every answer, but one who keeps asking, seeking, and finding You. Amen.