Can I ask a Question?
Last weekend I sat down with two pastors to discuss theology. I asked question after question, they answered and also asked my thoughts. It was both educational and refreshing.
One was the pastor that discipled me nearly 20 years ago, and the other one was my husband. So while to me it was great conversation and fellowship, it also wasn’t unusual. But after talking to some other Christians I’m discovering just what a privilege it was.
Because it would seem many churches and pastors really don’t like questions. Or perhaps more accurately: questions are permitted as long as you then agree with the answer.
THE LESSON
I love questions. I love asking questions and I love answering questions. It has been one of my favourite teaching methods for years.
I was a 20 year old scripture teacher when I first discovered just how many questions people have about God and the Bible. My grade 6 class would patiently sit with raised hands to ask questions. And they were good questions: Where did the world come from? What happens when we die?
So one day I skipped the lesson and got everyone to write down all their questions, I spent the rest of the year answering them, one by one.
I’ve never looked back.
THE TEACHABLE
The point of questions in general varies greatly, but if we think about questions in a theological context, questions mean you are actively seeking information or alternative points of views. You are seeking input and data points different to the ones you already possess, you want greater understanding and clarification; or they may be used to gauge someone else’s understanding or to challenge a viewpoint.
People who like questions are usually teachable. And I’ve never met a new Christian who didn’t have lots of questions, just like Jesus’ own disciples (eg. Mark 4:10, 7:17, 9:11, 9:28, 10:10, 13:1-6).
On the other hand, if you view all questions as criticism, or don’t like to be questioned about your theology, it means you are likely closed to any alternatives other than your own. It means you aren’t very teachable.
But as Christians, our sanctification relies on us being teachable.
THE SANCTIFICATION
These days, sanctification is understood as the ongoing process of becoming holy or more like Christ. That means we should be growing, changing, and being taught by the Spirit and the word. But to be transformed I first to have a teachable heart posture (Romans 12:2).
However, sanctification isn’t just about sinning less. Paul links coming to the “measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ” directly to doctrine (Ephesians 4:13-14). Becoming like Christ is also about growing in the truth (John 14:6, 17:17, Ephesians 5:9, 2 Thessalonians 2:13).
We are to continue to grow in Christ so we are no longer children able to be tricked by the sleight of men and cunning (Ephesians 4:13-14). But that also means having the humility to accept that maybe you have already been tricked. After all there is no guarantee that the version of Christianity you were saved into or are currently in, is right on every point.
Because let’s face it, there are lots of topics within Christianity. It isn’t a one dimensional belief system. And lots of those topics have people firmly on opposite sides of the fence. To throw out just a few:
A Literal vs Allegorical reading of prophesy,
Cessationism vs Continuationism,
Two baptisms vs One,
Female church leaders vs Men only,
Calvinism vs Arminianism,
Plurality vs One Pastor.
There is no situation in which both sides of these debates are right. But that means someone must be wrong. (Or maybe sometimes everyone is?)
What if you are actually on the wrong side of history?
THE QUESTIONS
Paul instructs us to work out our own salvation with fear and trembling (Philippians 2:12). Jesus warns us that some will hear “I never knew you, depart from me” (Matthew 7:21-23). John tells us we can know we abide in Him because we have the Spirit, followed directly by a warning to try the spirits (1 John 3:24 - 4:1). And James tells us to pray for wisdom in faith (James 1:5-6)
God wants us to be saved and know the truth, but we are also warned very clearly about deceptions.
So, can I ask you a question?
Are you open to God leading you into the truth?
Are you willing to read the Bible to find doctrine?
Or are you perhaps too busy using your doctrine to read the Bible?
THE ILLUSTRATION
Towards the end of the C.S Lewis’ The Last Battle the protagonists all find themselves in the true Narnia, meant to represent heaven or eternity. While some have died on earth, some have been thrown through a stable door in Narnia to be killed. But rather than dying they find that inside the stable it is a beautiful, perfect, never ending world.
Alongside them is a group of dwarves who are still convinced they are inside the small wooden stable. They complain about the dark, the smell, treat good food as scraps and stay huddled together. Nothing and no-one could change their mind. Not Lucy, Edmund, or Tirian. Not even Aslan. After everyone has tried, Aslan concludes of them,
“Their prison is only in their own minds, yet they are in that prison; and so afraid of being taken in that they cannot be taken out.” (C.S Lewis, 1956, The Last Battle, Harper Collins Publishers, p140)
THE TENSION
So, while on the one hand, we need to know the truth, live the truth and even be willing to die for it, on the other hand we can’t be so dogmatic of our version of parts it, that nothing will change our minds.
What if like the dwarves, it’s Aslan trying to show you the truth?
What if it’s God trying to transform your mind?
I have to hold two conflicting points in tension. While yes, I believe in one Creator who left us His word in the Bible, I am also a sinful person incapable of understanding completely. So, maybe I’m wrong about some things and someone else is right.
If nothing would ever change my mind, how do I let the Spirit sanctify me and lead me into all truth? (John 16:13)
THE TESTIMONY
Almost two years ago we left our church.
[Ultimately we left a toxic situation in defence of the gospel, but that is another article entirely.]
And for now, most Sunday mornings my husband and I go for a walk, a swim or sit by the lake. And every Sunday morning I say the same phrase, “You’d have a hard time convincing me…”
As I sit in absolute peace, listening to the birds, watching the water, feeling the sun and breeze, partaking in a spiritual conversation, you’d have a hard time convincing me that sitting in a church building in a state of anxiety and hyper-vigilance is a better place for me to be.
Last Sunday morning, I got to sit with those two trained pastors and ask questions for four hours. You’d have a hard time convincing me that listening passively for 45 minutes was more beneficial to my spiritual well-being.
But that phrase has got me thinking: What would convince me?
Because if the answer is, “Nothing.”
I’ve got a serious problem.
Made for His Glory,
