Called to Doubt -or- Being a Steward of Mystery

Everybody wants answers.

It feels like life would be so much easier if we had the answers.

What are the questions?

Well, ask yourself: what do you want to know?

Why is there suffering?

Why am I suffering?

Is there a God?

Will you marry me?  Do you love me?

Does God love me?

What is the reason for this pain? This tragedy?

What do I do?

What am I going to do with my life?

Where am I going to find a job?

Who is Jesus?

What will the future bring?

What happens when we die?  What will happen when I die?

Who am I?

Who are you?

All these questions and more.

If they were answered, perhaps life would be easier (though I am not so sure).

I have a question for you.  Where do you turn when you don’t know the answer?

Some say that they turn to God.  Others, when in distress--the time we “need” answers most, turn to religion...to the church.

I know a lot of parents, not having been to church for some years, bring their children to Sunday School.  When asked why the response is often, “To learn morality and good ethics.”  In other words, “I want my child to be able to answer the question, ‘What is the difference between right and wrong.’”

Answers.

So many churches (and so many pastors) see themselves as Keepers of the Answers.  It is so easy for Christians, particularly those who are strong and sure about their own beliefs, to think themselves teachers.  And who wouldn’t want to provide answers for people who are blowing in the wind, looking for something to hold on to?

But, I daresay, there are no answers in the Church.

Only questions.  

And pastors are not stewards of answers, but rather stewards of the mysteries of God.

This coming Sunday, many Christians the world over will read the same Gospel reading from Mark, the 8th chapter.  In that episode, Jesus asks the disciples: “Who do people say that I am?”  The disciples respond, “Some say Elijah, others John the Baptist, etc.”  Then Jesus asks, “Who do you say that I am?”  And the Twelve answer something to the effect of: “The Holy One of God, the Son of Man, or the Son of God.”  Now why on earth would Jesus ask these questions?  Was he concerned about what was going around about him?  Was this an impromptu opinion poll?  If it was, Jesus never did any damage control, never turned around to do a PR campaign.  And I don’t know that Jesus would have lacked confidence enough to be affected by rumors about him.  So why?  Perhaps he just wanted to start a discussion with the disciples.  He wanted to make sure that the gossip of others was not adversely and unhealthily affecting their experience of who he was, who he is.  He wanted to make sure that they believed not even necessarily him, but that they believed their own impressions and opinions of him.  He wanted them to trust themselves--ultimately to trust in the relationship.  He didn’t want them to get the answers from anywhere but their own hearts--didn’t want them to search for answers outside of their own souls, their own inner lives...where God was meeting each one of them.

If I were one of the disciples there that day, when Jesus was asking all these questions, I would have expected Jesus to come up with some answer.  I would have been disappointed when Jesus didn’t come out and say who was right and who was wrong.  I would have felt a little anxiety at the end of the interview, not knowing whether I had answered correctly or not.  Because all Jesus said that day was, “Don’t tell anybody what you have just said.  Don’t tell anybody what you believe about me.”

What?  Does that mean I am wrong?  Isn’t that the message we are out here to proclaim?  Jesus, if you have the answers, why don’t you tell us?  At least tell us who you really are so that we get the story straight.

Moses had the same experience with God.  Standing before the burning bush, God had commanded Moses to go to Egypt and free the people of Israel.  Moses said, “But who shall I say has sent me?”  God responded: “I am who I am.  I will be who I will be.”  Hardly an answer.  Each person who comes before God and hears God’s name must answer that riddle him- or herself.  The name invites us to lay hold of our own experience of God.  For God is simply (simply!) God.  And in my life, God has done this....  Today, I saw God here....  

That is what the role of the Church is: to make everyone a theologian.  To empower everyone to search for--and find words for--who God is.  The Church is not there to give answers, but to point people toward the right questions: “Who do you say that I am?”

  

Accepting answers to the hard questions in life is a tricky thing.  When we are given answers, it doesn’t go so well--usually.  But when we come to the answers on our own, our belief is firm, unshakable.  When we experience Jesus Christ first-hand, then he is a rock.  That is not to say that the experience cannot be, or should not be (at least in part) communal.  The Israelites had a solid communal grasp on who God was.  God is the one who brought us from the land of Egypt and established us in the Promised Land.  But if you read the rest of the Bible, and the Psalms in particular, you see testimonies about how God did that same kind of thing over and over again in countless lives--on large scales and small scales.

For Christians, the communal experience is: Jesus Christ died, so that our sins might be forgiven, and was raised up again so that we all have victory over death.  And so, as we evangelize, we are to be little psalmists, sharing how God has forgiven us, how God has freed us from oppression and fear and bondage and death.

More than that, we are to be stewards of the mystery of God’s action in others’ lives.  Our stories should be shared in such a way that invite people to look at their own lives, to look at themselves and ask questions: “Is God involved in my life?  Is there anything that I have needed to be forgiven for?  What got me through to where I am today?  Who can I turn to in order to make it to tomorrow?”  And so on...

Jesus is not the answer.  Jesus is the Way.  Jesus is mystery incarnate--a walking question.  How can he be both fully God and fully human?  If he is God why did he die?  Why would God use such a ridiculous and inefficient way to work on behalf of his beloved people?

And so, as Christians, we are stewards of Question.

When we claim to have THE answer, I am afraid that we are--every time, without exception--forcing idols on people.

Instead, we should be inviting people into the mystery...“I can’t explain it...‘Come and see.’”

[Don’t stop looking for answers.  Just don’t be afraid if the answers don’t come quickly.  The point is to struggle with fear and trembling.  Learning is so much more than (and more fun than) being taught.  I pray that the Holy Spirit gives you strength in your inner being as you wrestle with the sacred mysteries, as you wrestle with the Hidden God.]