I don't claim to be knowledgeable about theology. Most of my

In the humble and heartfelt words of Jimmy Carter, a man whose life has bridged the worlds of power and faith, we hear the voice of quiet wisdom: “I don't claim to be knowledgeable about theology. Most of my knowledge comes out of my experience and the lessons in the Bible. Every Sunday I'm home I teach 45 minutes and we boiled them down to one page for the new book, 'Through the Year with Jimmy Carter.'” These words are simple, yet within them lies the nobility of a spirit that values not scholarship alone, but experience, service, and faith lived out through action. Carter does not speak as a preacher from the pulpit of authority, but as a pilgrim walking beside his fellow travelers, sharing what he has learned on the long road of life.

In his confession of unlearnedness—“I don't claim to be knowledgeable about theology”—there is no false modesty, but genuine humility. He reminds us that wisdom does not belong only to the theologian or the scholar, but to all who listen with sincerity to the call of conscience. For Carter, faith is not an argument to be won, but a light to be lived. Like the ancients who revered the wisdom of lived truth over the vanity of empty words, he draws his understanding not from debate, but from experience—from service to his people, his family, and his God. In this, he stands among the true philosophers of the heart, those who, like Socrates, declared that the highest wisdom is to know one’s own limits.

The origin of this quote lies in Carter’s lifelong devotion to faith and public service. Even as President of the United States, he never ceased teaching Sunday school at his small Baptist church in Plains, Georgia. He spoke not to the powerful, but to ordinary men and women, sharing the stories of Scripture as living lessons for the modern age. His book, Through the Year with Jimmy Carter, distilled decades of teaching into brief reflections—each a single page, yet filled with insight drawn from a life spent in compassion and humility. It is a testament to the belief that faith need not be complex to be profound; that truth, when lived with consistency, requires no ornament.

There is an ancient wisdom mirrored here. The sages of old—whether the Hebrew prophets, the desert monks, or the philosophers of Greece—taught that virtue is proven not by eloquence, but by deeds. King Solomon, in his proverbs, said that “understanding is a fountain of life to those who have it.” Yet he did not mean abstract knowledge; he meant the understanding that arises from living justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly. So too does Carter’s statement remind us that knowledge of the divine is not found in books alone, but in the living out of compassion, forgiveness, and service. The Bible’s lessons, to him, are not relics of doctrine—they are tools for action.

Consider the story of Saint Francis of Assisi, who, when asked to preach, said, “Preach the Gospel at all times; when necessary, use words.” Like Carter, Francis saw that true teaching is done by example. The world remembers Francis not for his eloquence, but for his humility—his care for the poor, his reverence for life, his simplicity of spirit. Carter, in his own time, followed a similar path. Long after leaving the White House, he built homes for the homeless, served as a peacemaker, and continued to teach the Gospel in a small classroom. He, too, preached without pride, showing that faith shines brightest when lived quietly.

From these reflections, we draw a powerful lesson: wisdom is not measured by how much we know, but by how deeply we live what we know. The truest theology is not the mastery of divine mysteries, but the practice of divine virtues—love, patience, justice, and humility. It is easy to speak of faith; it is harder to live it. Yet it is in the living that faith becomes real. Like Carter, we must learn to take the grand lessons of Scripture and “boil them down” into something we can apply each day—to speak less of righteousness, and to act more righteously.

So, my children of the future, take this teaching to heart. Do not chase greatness in knowledge alone; chase goodness in action. Read the sacred texts, but let their words find life in your hands and deeds. Teach not only with your tongue, but with your kindness. When you speak of faith, speak gently, and when you live it, live boldly. For the world does not need more scholars of holiness—it needs more practitioners of it. As Jimmy Carter has shown, the truest mark of wisdom is not what one knows of heaven, but how one serves upon the earth. And in that humble service, we come closest to the divine truth that unites us all.