Been thinking more about "questions"

I have written on many occasions about having "questions". Not doubts, just things I don't understand. As I look back through my posts I find a common thread. Bear with me, because I'm going somewhere with this.

Most of my own quotes are edited for brevity.

In Answers and Humility, I said

I used to think questions of church and the bible and faith were "fact" questions, i.e. there was little debatable about the right answer. I have, of course, migrated to the position that MOST of the church/bible/faith questions are "feeling" questions, i.e. there are a variety of available answers, and most cannot be proven. I don't want to subscribe to so many "facts" that I am inflexible about my faith. I want answers that lead me to more questions. I want my questions to be part of a journey, always moving towards something more intimate with God. In other words, I don't want answers about my present faith journey. I want suggestions and movements and ideas that lead me along, one step at a time.

In The Bible Shame and Questions

I am led to believe that in each encounter with God in the Bible...that all my questions should be answered. The truth is, the more I read the Bible, the less I understand God. I will read one verse, and spend an hour asking God questions about it, and sometimes He will answer which will lead to more questions. And so on and so forth. I rarely get definitive answers. What I do get is increased intimacy and relationship. The more Bible I read, the more profound God seems and the more awed I am by His love. Why must we use the Bible as a tool to explain every facet of Christianity, and of life itself? Why can't we ever say that we "just don't know", or we "just don't understand"?

In More God and Science...and Jesus

He teases us, saying "You can't HAVE all the answers. Only I have all the answers. Any Questions?"Maybe the bottom line for me is this: Do I have to have all the answers in order to believe? No.

In my post titled Questions

I find that I am usually short on answers, and when I do have them, my answers only lead to more questions that I don't have answers to. What kind of Christian does that make me? I hope it would make me an inquisitive one, like a child, for not having an answer. An honest one, for telling it like it is. A faithful one for still believing even if I can't say why. And a human one, for being so weak as to use foul language in the delivery. And a prayerful one, for hoping the Spirit would see fit to rescue me with some timely and appropriate wisdom.

In Clarification of Questions

Because everything I know of Him is filtered through my human-colored glasses, I consider all my beliefs subject to reevaluation at any given time, as He reveals more of Himself and His ways to me each day. There are very few aspects of my faith that I dare to say will not EVER change. That's not to say that I hold NO aspects to be non-negotiable or that I have NO answers, just that I am careful how many. The rest is subject to interpretation through my daily and increasing intimacy with God. That's a good thing, I think. Don't you? It's not about becoming "adjusted" to the vision I have and accepting it. It's about always wanting to see more clearly, even if it's disorienting for a time. And I think it's perfectly OK for me to be questioning, and I hope that I will always continue to question.

And recently in What Next?

I no longer see Him as the "answer machine" I once did. I no longer expect to put in my two quarters (or tithe, be it as it may) and push a button and expect an answer to pop out. It's not that I don't expect Him to answer me, I just don't necessarily think it will be in the way I expect. I look for Him in the secret places, in the quiet and simple things, and in the wild and unusual aspects of life. Maybe He's letting me find the answers myself; even though I will end up finding His answers, I will own them more if I find them for myself.

So I have been reading The Secret Message of Jesus by Brian McLaren and came across some interesting thoughts in Chapter 5: The Hidden Message of Jesus. Brian is talking about how Jesus so often spoke in parables, and he refers to Luke 18:18-25 where the "rich young ruler" asks Jesus how to have eternal life.

"Jesus spars with him for a few minutes, questioning the way he phrased the question. Then Jesus answers his question with a question: "What do you think?"

In conversation after conversation, then, Jesus resists being clear or direct. There's hardly ever a question that he simply answers; instead, his answer comes in the form of a question, or it turns into a story, or it is full of metaphors that invite more questions. What's going on?

What could possibly be the benefit of Jesus' hiddenness, intrigue, lack of clarity, metaphor, and answering questions with questions? Why risk being misunderstood-or not understood at all? If the message is so important, why hide it in evocative rather than technical language?"

In the next chapter Brian begins to answer this question [emphasis mine]:

"Why did Jesus speak in parables? Why was he subtle, indirect, and secretive? Because his message wasn't merely aimed at conveying information. It sought to precipitate something more important: the spiritual transformation of the hearers. The form of a parable helps to shape a heart that is willing to enter an ongoing, interactive, persistent relationship of trust in the teacher. It beckons the hearer to explore new territory. It helps form a heart that is humble enough to admit it doesn't already understand and is thirsty enough to ask questions."

And today as I was going through my bookmarks of "things to read", I came across this on Prodigal Kiwi [emphasis belongs to the author]:

"Malcolm Chamberlain has the following quote from Richard Rohr on his blogsite - read the whole post here.

"Jesus is asked 183 questions directly in the four Gospels. He only answered three of them forthrightly. The others he either ignored, kept silent about, asked a question in return, changed the subject, told a story or gave an audio/visual aid to make his point, told them it was the wrong question, revealed their insincerity or hypocrisy, made the exactly opposite point, or redirected the question elsewhere!

Check it out for yourself. He himself asks 307 questions, which would seem to set a pattern for imitation. Considering this, it is really rather amazing that the church became an official answering machine and a very self-assured program for 'sin management'.

Many, if not most, of Jesus' teaching would never pass contemporary orthodoxy tests in either the Roman Office or the Southern Baptist Convention. Most of his statements are so open to misinterpretation that should he teach today, he would probably be called a 'relativist' in almost all areas except one: his insistence upon the goodness and reliability of God. That was his only consistent absolute."

We underestimate the importance of questions co-existing with faithfulness; so often we want, or think, that what is most healthy for us is certainty -– living without questions. The spaciousness that uncertainty and doubt opens up is unsettling. Having to sit with questions and listen to our inner responses can be scary.

But the reality is that good questions (and our responding to them as they are asked of them) are one significant way by which our lives, our faith, our relationships, our being church, is actually deepened. Questions, rather than certainty, help us grow, help us remain open to the activity of the Spirit, help us remain open to new possibilities, to new directions, to new ways of responding to following Jesus - a Jesus who questions and invites us to become more than we currently are; to do more than we currently do! Questions are stepping stones; they invite us on a journey."

I have in the past felt like a "lesser" Christian for admitting that I don't know everything, that there are points of faith I'm not sure of, that I have questions. Sometimes this feeling is instigated by someone, more often it's a result of my own insecurities. But more recently I have found that maybe it's not a bad thing to have questions. After all, Jesus never said He'd give us clear, concise answers, only that He was The Way. Maybe it's in seeing Jesus as The Way, not just as the "way to heaven", but as the Way of Life, where we begin to get answers. Not definitive answers, but a direction, an indication of the intention of our activity, guidance in every step. I don't think Jesus is concerned with us having all the answers for every possible aspect of faith, I think He wants us to trust that He will tell us What we Need to Know at any given moment. No more, no less.

So maybe I'm not so crazy for saying I don't have the answers and I don't want the answers. I just want relationshiphip with Jesus that continues to invite me to ask questions. I don't think He'll be offended when I say I don't know everything about Him.

Rather, I think He would be offended if I said I did.