A Quest for Questions

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Today’s readings:
Psalms 36; 147:12-20, Isaiah 45:5-17, Ephesians 5:15-33, Mark 4:21-34


Human beings like answers. It was true thousands of years ago in the time of the prophet Isaiah, it’s true today, and (if we are still around) it will be true thousands of years from now. Uncertainty vexes us. Sometimes we are more content to grasp at false answers than to have no answers at all. Yet sometimes the answer is simply … there is no answer.

When the exiled nation of Israel cried out because it seemed God had abandoned them, Isaiah challenged their right to take God to task. He compared them to lumps of clay questioning the choices of the potter. The God of Israel declared he “made weal and created woe” as he saw fit, and human beings should not strive to comprehend why.

Like the ancient Israelites, we often want to know why God has allowed bad things to happen to us (and isn’t it funny how we are less likely to wonder why we are deserving of the good things?). Some people’s faith evaporates when it does not protect them from the bad things and the world stops making sense to them. “How can a loving God let evil things happen?” they wonder. That question can feel threatening to people of faith. An entire industry of apologetics, creationist “proofs,” and theological musings has evolved to address that question. In the end, most of them are overly pat and largely unsatisfying. But “we’ll never know” doesn’t exactly sell books and videos.

Questioning is healthy, but some questions will remain unanswerable. Isaiah, Job, Proverbs: these scriptures and others advise us energy spent on unanswerable questions could be put to better use. If we can accept the paradox that God is good and bad things still happen, we can move on to address questions of a faith lived in the world as it really is: Whom shall we serve? How shall we love? Where is God leading us?

Folk wisdom tells us the journey matters more than the destination. If an answer is a destination, perhaps finding the right questions to ask matters more than getting there.

Comfort: Asking the right questions makes all the difference.

Challenge: We must learn to live with the reality that we’ll never have all the answers.

Prayer: God of mystery, may your love be answer enough. Amen.

Discussion: Do any unanswered questions really bug you?

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Puzzling It Out

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Today’s readings:
Psalms 18:1-20; 147:12-20, Isaiah 2:5-22, 1 Thessalonians 3:1-13, Luke 20:27-40


Under ancient Jewish marriage laws, a widow was instructed to marry her late husband’s unwed brother. Theoretically, if that brother died, and there was another brother, she would marry him. And if he died … on down the line.

The Sadducees, who did not even believe in resurrection, tried to trip up Jesus with a hypothetical question about who in the resurrection would be the husband of a woman who’d married seven brothers. Jesus told them nothing as we understood it – including marriage – would be the same.

On one level he was specifically addressing the Sadducees, but on another (and when is anything Jesus says not multi-layered?) he was pointing out the futility of trying to cram God and God’s kingdom into the tiny fragments of human understanding that describe and limit our faith. If we treat them like pieces of a puzzle and try to force them into a single picture, we soon learn that not only are we missing countless pieces, the ones we have may be from different boxes. The only way to fit them inside our desired frame of reference is to tear off the inconvenient bits and pound them flat.

No wonder the picture of Christianity can often make so little sense, especially to outsiders. Not knowing is uncomfortable and scary, so we can waste time rearranging the pieces. This obsession disengages us from the “God of the living” – from life and all its blessed messiness.

An insistence on theological tidiness, especially about unknowable things, doesn’t make us better believers. Mystics of all faiths describe the moment of divine revelation as a surrender to mystery. The wisest people admit to knowing nothing.

Getting stuck in “head” religion ultimately leads to frustration. Thinking you lack spiritual wisdom because you don’t know the right terms or scripture quotes is just not true. God is found in living hearts, not dead paper. Christ is the Living Word not because he appears on Bible pages, but because he rewrites the world.

Rather than “bow down to the work of [our] own hands” by stuffing God into ideas we’ve created, let’s trust that God is present with us in the glorious chaos of life.

Comfort: You don’t have to understand everything – as a matter of fact no one does!

Challenge: Try to give up finding the answer to one question you wish you knew.

Prayer: Infinite God, Lord of all Creation, I am open to your mystery and majesty. Amen.

Discussion: What’s the longest you’ve ever worked on a puzzle before giving up?

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Fish Story

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 65; 147:1-11, Ezra 10:1-17, Revelation 21:9-21, Matthew 17:22-27


When Jesus and the disciples stopped in Capernaum, one of the temple tax collectors asked Peter whether Jesus paid the temple tax. Peter said he did, but when he got home Jesus posed the following question before Peter could speak:

“What do you think, Simon? From whom do kings of the earth take toll or tribute? From their children or from others?”

This question cut right the heart of who Jesus was. If, as he claimed, he was the son of God, he was no more obligated to pay taxes for the temple than a prince was to pay taxes for the king’s castle. Peter replied “From others” so Jesus continued:

“Then the children are free. However, so that we do not give offense to them, go to the sea and cast a hook; take the first fish that comes up; and when you open its mouth, you will find a coin; take that and give it to them for you and me.”

The passage establishes Jesus’s identity and authority while promoting the model of servant leadership.

But what’s up with that fish?

Several commentaries refer to this incident as the Miracle of the Coin in the Fish, but there’s no actual miracle recounted. There’s talk of a miracle, but unlike most of the other ones (walking on water, water into wine, multiplication of loaves, curing diseases) it happens off-screen. It’s notable this story appears right after one where Jesus told the disciples their lack of faith was the reason they couldn’t cure a demon-possessed boy.

So did Peter find the fish and the coin or not?

The gospel is silent on the outcome, but Jesus said it was going to happen. Peter, very likely still stinging from having the size of his faith compared unfavorably to a mustard seed, didn’t question it. Apart from a few scholars who think this may have been Jesus making a joke or speaking symbolically, most Christians speak and write about it as if it did.

Before becoming Christ’s disciple, Peter made his coin as a fisherman. Suddenly that mundane act was imparted with meaning beyond the ordinary. That’s a big part of faith: trusting that the Lord can transform the ordinary acts we perform into something greater than we can understand. We don’t always see or know the outcome. It may seem a little weird. It can be physical or metaphysical, literal or symbolic, convoluted or simple … or any and all of these things and more. The seed of faith, without a little mystery mixed in to nurture it, doesn’t grow. Faith is not trusting what we know, but trusting when we know not.

Comfort: Faith doesn’t mean you have to have the answers.

Challenge: Look for Gospel stories about fish and meditate on what they have to say.

Prayer: By awesome deeds you answer us with deliverance, O God of our salvation;
you are the hope of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest seas. (Psalm 65:5)

Discussion: What unanswered questions have you learned to live with?

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Unlimited

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 47; 147:12-20, Jeremiah 33:1-13, Romans 14:1-12, Luke 8:26-39


Today in Luke we read about Jesus healing a man long possessed by demons. A few verses earlier, he had calmed a raging storm. One element these stories have in common is how some people reacted to the events: fearfully. Even though Jesus saves them from physical and spiritual danger, their fear eclipses their gratitude.

What exactly did the people fear? They feared an unpredictable God, or more specifically a Jesus who served an unpredictable God. We might consider them in a patronizing fashion, but we shouldn’t be too hasty to decide we are somehow wiser. What kind of messiah—what kind of God—do we think we serve? We like the Jesus who eats with sinners and raises the dead, but what do we think of the Jesus who drives evil spirits out of a person and into a herd of swine who respond by killing themselves? However we interpret this story, we must grapple with a Jesus—with a God—who operates beyond our understanding. Even when we accept that discipleship has its demands, we like to think we know what those demands will be. We are more comfortable with a God we can define, even subconsciously, than a God we can’t tame to stay within the bounds of human expectations. For if we can’t set expectations on God, we can’t anticipate what expectations God might have of us!

Like the Gerasenes, we may retreat when we realize the “easy” parts of relationship with Christ belong within a larger package, a package we can’t wrap our arms or brains around. When we think of holy or righteous lives, we tend to think of them as peaceful and orderly. An exception may be the missionary who finds herself in dangerous and unknown territory, but we think of her as just that—an exception. The truth is, when we enter fully into relationship with Christ and God, our experience of God is mysterious and wild. Our hearts are at peace, but our lives are one surprise and risk after another. This may seem contradictory, but that’s part of the mystery.

Comfort: Releasing ourselves from the need to limit God frees God to remove the limits from our lives.

Challenge: Each day for a week, write down one thing (news item, scripture passage, etc.) that confuses you about the nature of God. Afterward, thank God for being present and loving even when you don’t understand how.

Prayer: God of Mystery, thank you for not meeting my expectations. Amen.

Discussion: Have you ever felt like God was inviting you to do something unexpected?

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Grass Fed

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 98; 146, Daniel 4:28-37, 1 John 4:7-21, Luke 4:31-37


The second time Daniel interpreted a dream for Nebuchadnezzar, he warned the king that his pride would be his undoing. A year later he was on the rooftop of the palace, boasting of how the kingdom existed to glorify him him, when things took a bizarre turn:

Immediately the sentence was fulfilled against Nebuchadnezzar. He was driven away from human society, ate grass like oxen, and his body was bathed with the dew of heaven, until his hair grew as long as eagles’ feathers and his nails became like birds’ claws.

This lasted for seven years. Nebuchadnezzar recovered his senses after accepting that the Lord was sovereign over all, including the king himself. When it was over, he went back to business as usual, but with a new humility.

One popular interpretation of this story is that putting our own will and pride above the will of God is a madness that results in our own degradation. We think of Nebuchadnezzar’s time in the wilderness as punishment – how pleasant could it have been? – but in the grand scheme was he worse off than when he believed in God but ignored him?

Is this story a little hard to swallow (no grass-munching pun intended)?

If so, it’s okay not to know what to make of it. We like to understand and classify the stories we hear, whether they come from the Bible, the news, or our own experiences, so we can drop them in the appropriate mental file, reinforce our preferred worldview, and move on. Sometimes, though, it’s preferable to ponder something without arriving at a tidy resolution.

Do we relate to the chaos, the tragic flaw of pride, the eventual humility, or even the dark humor of a king reduced to living like a wild animal? Nebuchadnezzar liked quick answers – he was willing to execute hundreds to get a dream interpreted! – but it took him seven years to work out what God was saying to him and turn his eyes heavenward. Live with the chaos, ridiculousness, and mystery for a bit, and you might be surprised at what you learn.

Comfort: You don’t always have to force an answer.

Challenge: Seriously. Stop doing that.

Prayer: God of mystery and truth, teach me to appreciate both in equal measure. Amen.

Discussion: What unanswered questions are you living with, and are you at peace with that?

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That’s it?

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 123; 146, Job 40:1, 41:1-11, Acts 16:6-15, John 12:9-19


It’s here! The climactic chapter of the book of Job, wherein God will conclude his explanation of all Job’s suffering – and maybe the explanation of all our suffering. He’s told us about the majesty and wonder of creation that he alone is capable of. He’s made it clear we as mortals can never be righteous or wise enough to comprehend all he has seen and done. His final words of wisdom to Job and those present …

… are thirty-four verses about what may or may not be a super-hippo. Huh?

That’s it, folks. That’s all the author(s) of Job had to offer. Perhaps, in the end, the subject matter was beyond anyone’s ability to address. Maybe there simply is no good justification for a God who allows the slaughter of a man’s family to win a wager. Maybe God is an all-powerful jerk who couldn’t just say “Sorry, that was a rotten but necessary thing to do to you.” No matter what the explanation, we can’t help feeling God just sidestepped the whole issue.

And some of us may be asking, “Did I just waste my time? Why is this book in the Bible anyway?” Well, we haven’t wasted anything. We’ve spent weeks pondering the human condition. We’ve been appropriately outraged about injustice, and equally outraged by inadequate – even unloving – efforts to explain it away. We have inquired into the nature of God, and found the conveniently packaged answers lacking. In other words, we’ve done what serious Old Testament scholars have done for centuries: wrestled with our faith. With its lack of a satisfying resolution, Job may seem like the world’s earliest piece of post-modern literature, but – intentionally or not – it does its job (no pun intended) by leaving us with more questions than answers.

We will always seek meaning in our lives. Eliphaz, Bildad, Zophar, Elihu, Job, and even God represent points of view we work through in our search. Like Job, the best answer we get in life may be: “It’s a God thing – you wouldn’t understand.” And we’ll keep searching, because the search alone holds meaning.

Comfort: The mystery of God is worth exploring our whole lives.

Challenge: Write your own response to Job’s questions.

Prayer: Compassionate God, thank you for your comfort when I suffer. Amen.

Discussion: What questions do you really wish you had answers to?

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The Unknown God

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Today’s readings (click below to open in new tab/window):
Psalms 67; 150, Numbers 21:4-9, 21-35, Acts (17:12-21) 17:23-24, Luke 13:10-17


While Paul was stranded in Athens after being driven out of Berea, he didn’t waste any time. Paul noticed the Athenians were always looking for something new to believe in, and he took advantage of their nature to spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The Greek pantheon included a dozen Olympian gods and many more besides, so the city was full of idols to all of them. In one temple he noticed an shrine dedicated to “an unknown god” just in case the worshipers had missed a deity. Paul told the Athenians this unknown god was the god of Israel, who had made the world and everything in it.

Constructing an idol to an unknown God may seem opportunistic or pragmatic, but there is a certain element of humility in it. Allowing for an unknown God was admitting “there is more to the nature of divinity than we know.” Despite all our talk about the mystery of God, many Christians are content to behave as if God is completely known to us. Our idols are creeds and books, doctrine and dogma. How often have we used them to justify the worship of a false god – a god who condones inequality and injustice, corruption and bigotry; a god who values what and who we value, and hates what and who we hate? A god we have created in our own image.

Jesus remains a constant source of surprise about the nature of God. Over and over he taught us that defining and limiting God – even with the most righteous intentions – reduces us to worshiping a cold, dead idol with no spark of love or mercy. By using parables rather than directives, he showed us God is more knowable through question and mystery than through rigid rule books. We aren’t free to define God however we want, but we are free from having God defined for us by people pretending to have all the answers. Admitting ignorance is sometimes a giant leap toward wisdom. Genesis tells us God spoke the world into existence; Christ’s incarnation transformed that monologue into an ongoing conversation.

Comfort: You don’t have to have all the answers.

Challenge: Nobody has all the answers.

Prayer: God of creation, I seek to follow Jesus Christ to truth and love. Correct my path when I am in error, and keep my heart humble. Amen.

Discussion: What is the difference between seeking truth, and simple rebelliousness?

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