A writer and friend, Christian Piatt, told me the story once of his disastrous end attending Sunday School as a youngster. Christian grew up in the Bible Belt. His dad, an unabashed atheist, and his mom, a member of a Southern Baptist church, encouraged him, despite their differences, to explore his faith, so he often attended church with his mother. Both parents valued education and encouraged their son to express himself. And so he did – every time he made it to Sunday School, he took every chance he could to ask questions of the teacher, probing with curiosity and cynicism the stories and perspectives of scripture, the church, and the adults leading the class.
Until one fateful Sunday, as the Sunday School teacher grew more and more frustrated at Christian’s persistent questions, that he shouted, “Would you shut up?” And picked up that big Bible in front of him and tossed it at Christian’s, head just missing.
That was the last time Christian attended Sunday School, at least until much later on he married a minister.
That moment communicated to Christian that some churches do not tolerate questions – or at least the wrong kinds of questions.
The good news for us, friends, is that we strive not to be that kind of church.
Rooted in our United Church of Christ and Disciples of Christ traditions, both which stand in a vibrant historical tradition of Christianity, value our personal responsibility to read scripture, listen to each other, disagree at times, and give permission to ask deep, probing questions.
- How can I believe what scripture says?
- Who is God, and what does God want of me?
- If God is good, why is there evil in this world?
- Who is our neighbor, and what does it mean to love them?
- Is God still speaking?
- Am I welcome at God’s table?
Of course, that doesn’t mean we are a perfect faith community and that there aren’t times when we too are frustrated by the probing and skepticism of others.
On my first day in the office here at Church of the Foothills, almost two years ago, in fact, I was met by two 40-something women who waited patiently to speak with me. Since they were so persistent, I took a pause from unpacking boxes and drove in, thinking perhaps they had a significant crisis that we could help with. But instead, they proceeded to open their bibles in front of me, explain that they had been praying for our church after passing by last summer and noticed a rainbow flag somewhere on our property, and went about interrogating me with questions and scripture passages in an attempt to change my belief in the radical welcome at God’s table. After 45 minutes, I almost threw a Bible at them. But I didn’t. Instead, I asked them if they give this treatment to pastors and churches who don’t preach about helping the poor.
Certainly, as a progressive faith community, people come through our doors or into our midst who are carrying baggage from churches where they have been taught to use their Bibles as weapons against their neighbors. Don’t get me wrong – I will always be open to a good faith conversation to learn and listen, especially from those I may disagree with, as long as it is a two way street. But too often, there are people who have been taught that there is only one interpretation, only one way – and making room for questions undermines that. Questions are seen as threats – rather than blessings – to their way of faith.
And all at a time when distrust in religious institutions and the decline of participation in faith communities increases, if anything, we need to create more space for honest and open dialogue, for questions of all kinds.
In our scripture this morning, we are reminded that Jesus loved questions. Yes, he had a habit of frustrating religious leaders in his day by answering a question with a question. But he was perceptive and insightful and hungry to learn.
The Gospel of Luke tells us this remarkably human story about parenting and about Jesus’ passion for debate, dialogue, and questions.
As was custom, Joseph and Mary, and perhaps an entourage of neighbors and family members, everyone pitching in some gas money, made their annual trek from Nazareth to Jerusalem to offer a sacrifice as a ritual of their faith. The sacrifice was an act of prayer and faithfulness, a reminder that they depended on God for sustenance and for life.
When the prayer was done, Mary and Joseph and the crew started making their way back on that long journey. After a day of walking, Mary and Joseph, assuming perhaps that Jesus had just been in that third row in the ol’ minivan, realize that their baby boy is nowhere to be seen. I feel the panic and anger and fear that had to have set in. They turn right around and rush back to Jerusalem.
There were no missing person reports or Amber Alerts in those days, so Mary and Joseph spent three days searching for their son, until finally, they find him, “sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions.”
Again, from the perspective of a parent, Mary and Joseph experienced relief – their son was alright – and burning rage. How dare their irresponsible twelve-year-old boy not at least pick up his cellphone and text his parents! It’s why they bought the phone for him! It’s the whole purpose they pay a monthly fee for it to have service!!! (Ummm… maybe a little too personal.)
Listen to the story again.
His mother said to him, “Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety.’ Jesus said to them, ‘Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?’
I don’t know if Mary and Joseph gave Jesus consequences – like a timeout or grounding – but Jesus deserved it if so. And yet, the story says, his parents understood something too – that this child was different, and even at the age of twelve, was revealing part of who he was called to be, a teacher of divine wisdom and love.
Jesus’ actions in this story should give us pause at anytime in our lives when we start to get irritated at questions coming from those around us who are hungry for truth and beauty. We are all on journeys of learning and growing. What a gift it is – how central it is – to make space for that deep hunger, whether from someone young who is trying to understand the world, or from someone who is coming to terms with a more expansive understanding of God’s love after a lifetime on this journey.
There is something about asking questions that is so core to our journey of faith – questions that may not be easily answered, questions that deserve to be pondered, questions that open us to the abiding love of our Creator. I think Jesus’ time in the temple affirm that.
Then here are two things we might recommit ourselves to in this uncertain New Year.
- Being a community that blesses questions takes time. We must create space and opportunity for those questions and wisdom to emerge. No drive thru spirituality. Jesus stayed for a long time in the temple – like four days. No doubt, he annoyed the leaders and priests in charge. The Torah in those days was written on huge long scrolls that had to be unrolled, so it wasn’t an option for those priests to pick it up and throw it at him. Unfortunately, we are a busy people, living in a busy time. Our coffee hour after worship might seem like a luxury we cannot afford, and yet it is so often in those moments when we sit together and have a chance to look each other in the eyes and ask the questions weighing us down, listening to each other, sharing our wisdom – those moments are when we grow. Some churches build small group ministries in this way to encourage that kind of “slow church”. Do we need more of those opportunities? Or does it sometime mean challenging each other – in committee meetings, before or after worship, on Thursdays at the Lost Bean, or over dinner – to slow ourselves down for the wonderings we carry with us and embracing those questions?
- Second, I want to remind you of this wisdom – embracing questions is often how we resist forces in our world that want to destroy and diminish us. Asking questions is how we push back against dictators, religious authoritarians, and systems of injustice. Why are you doing that? Who gave you permission? Where is the money coming from? Who is going to be hurt by those actions? Are there solutions other than violence? Does it have to be this way? Yes, there can be a cost to asking questions, as so many activists can attest. In this time of political transition then, our role may to be practice our faith through those questions – relentless, fearless – challenging all of our leaders to live up to the highest of ideals.
I want you to hear clearly – in this progressive church, your questions are embraced. Bring them on. Know they are a blessing. You may not find all the answers you seek – you may frustrate even the wisest in our midst from time to time – but you will never get a Bible thrown at you. For this is God’s house, and we are about God’s business here – a business of justice, healing, and hope. Thanks be to God.