👉 Right, settle down now, let’s tackle this… frankly rather stuffy little mouthful:
theology, theological.
(Okay, I'm already preemptively regretting the sigh of exasperation that just ruffled my scholarly beard.)
Now, traditionally, theology is the systematic study of what humans believe about…stuff. Basically, it’s a head-scratcher dressed up in really pretty academic robes and filled with arguments that go round and round like a stubborn badger on a treadmill. Historically, theologians have spent their lives wrestling with the nature of God – his goodness, his omniscience, how exactly he fits into this whole messy existence. You know, all the usual questions you throw at the face of whatever’s "out there.” The word itself comes from the Greek, technically, it's δό ἐ þing-ský , which roughly translates to, well...the study of what is already decreed. It’s a very… official way to describe the whole concept of trying to figure out what we should probably just accept and then get on with our lives, frankly. The adjective, "theological," just adds that layer of weighty proneness—that insistence upon treating everything as a solemn, unyielding truth, even when, let’s be brutally honest, it's about as solid as a politician's handshake. Let me put it this way: theologians are the guys who spend the most amount of time debating how they already know something
